‘Don’t encourage her!’ says Mum. ‘You should take some Alka-Seltzer, Annie, or you’ll be in no fit state to enjoy Christmas. And pancakes won’t help. You’d better have a full English breakfast.’
I laugh. ‘You can make one if you like. Better still, I’ll make you one. Come and sit down.’
‘I am a little tired,’ she says, allowing me to lead her to an armchair next to the fire. ‘But nothing like you. Do as I tell you next time and line your stomach first.’
‘I will,’ I promise.
‘I’ll cook the breakfast,’ says Dad. ‘You stay and watch the children open their presents, Liz.’
‘Good idea,’ says Jamie. ‘Otherwise, Mum will have no idea at all what’s in our stockings.’
Mum darts a shocked look at me and makes a frantic gesture to Jamie.
He rolls his eyes. ‘I think she has it figured out by now. She’s twenty-one and, as she never tires of telling us, an adult.’
He gives me a sideways glance. ‘Which is probably a good thing if the reports of what you got up to last night are true.’
‘What are you talking about?’ says Mum. ‘What did she get up to last night?’
‘Absolutely nothing!’ I say. ‘Jamie’s being an idiot, as usual.’
She isn’t satisfied. ‘What did she get up to last night?’
‘I thought we were going to open our presents,’ I say.
She ignores me. ‘You’d better tell me at once, Jamie. And don’t look at me like that, Annie. Judging by the state of you this morning, you won’t remember a thing about it.’
‘I drank nothing but orange juice last night,’ I say.
‘Then someone must have spiked your drink. I hear that happens at parties nowadays. You aren’t supposed to leave your drink unattended. I should have warned you.’
‘I didn’t leave my drink unattended,’ I say. ‘It was in my hand at all times.’
‘Well, something obviously happened or your brother wouldn’t be so concerned.’
‘Not concerned,’ I say, giving him a filthy look. ‘He’s just trying to make trouble.’
‘She’s right,’ says Jamie. ‘Nothing happened last night at the party. I didn’t stop Sara Matthews choking on a sausage roll, and Mira didn’t see Annie kissing Alex Fielding.’
Mum looks stunned. ‘Is that true, Annie?’
‘No!’ I say, glaring at Jamie.
‘I suppose Mira could have been wrong,’ he says. ‘She was pretty far gone by the end of the night. Maybe it was someone else Annie was kissing.’
‘Alex Fielding,’ says Mum thoughtfully. ‘You could do a lot worse, Annie. Elaine tells me he has a very good job in Scotland. Engineering, apparently.’
I can’t resist. ‘He told me last night that he lives on deep-fried Mars bars.’
She gives an indulgent smile. ‘All young men live like that when they first leave home. He needs someone to look after him.’
‘And it sounds as though Annie is volunteering,’ says Jamie, dodging the slap I aim at him.
‘I don’t plan to look after anyone,’ I say. ‘And certainly not Alex Fielding.’
‘If that’s your attitude, you’ll never meet someone,’ says Mum, but thankfully she drops the subject.
It isn’t until we’re finishing our Christmas pudding that Alex’s name comes up again.