Chapter NineteenWill was bent over, gazing through the oven door, when Hema sashayed in, her arms full of Christmas dinner table accessories.
“Is it done yet?” She asked, placing the crackers and serviettes carefully around the plates.
“It looks brown on top, the legs are a bit pale though. How long has it been in?”
“Almost three hours,” Hema held up her fingers, “maybe give it another half an hour?”
“I'm starving,” Will grumbled.
“You always are!”
She hurried over to the cooker to take the bubbling bread sauce off the hob, “has your Mum texted?”
“Yep,” Will chuckled, “apparently she and Dad are going on a camel ride, followed by an authentic massage and then having Christmas lunch in a posh tent in the desert.”
“Sounds fun. Your poor Mum could do with some pampering. She works so
