By lunchtime, the house had gone into hectic mode.
Rosie had been parked with Uncle Andy—her favourite, largely because he was so terrified of dropping her or making her cry (children frightened Jayden’s perpetual bachelor of an uncle) that he let her get away with murder—in front of the Christmas film, and Darren had retreated back to Jayden’s room at twelve to talk to Scott on Skype. Jayden had been put to work peeling potatoes in the kitchen with Mum, while Dad and Aunt Lisa bitched at the table about Aunt Lisa’s latest ex-boyfriend.
Jayden didn’t typically like Christmas—too busy, too noisy, too chaotic, and still strange without Nana—but this Christmas was…fine. Better than, really. Darren was okay, and they were home, and not to sound totally cheesy and, well, gay, but the future
