“. . . you would not believe what time he got home from his office party Christmas Eve, plastered, leaning on the doorbell, chimes rattling the windows due to keys lost as per usual, no doubt down the front of that big mare in accounts, nosebleed my Aunt Fannie, and I am only up to my elbow in the turkey, aren’t I, you cannot run to the door with a handful of raw giblets, you cannot get turkey blood out of mushroom wall-to-wall, I speak as one who knows, so by the time I put the giblets in a safe place, because I do not have to tell you what comes over a cat at Christmas, it wouldn’t surprise me if they put something in up the hormone place where they do the turkeys that attracts cats to poultry, not something a human can smell, it is like them high-pitched whistles for dogs, they put something in out of the range of the human nostril, probably hoping the cat will have a go at the turkey while you are elsewhere, for example finding a sprout that has rolled under the fridge, which would mean you would have to go out and buy another turkey, where was I, oh yes, I run into the hall and the chime things that hang down, I don’t know what you call them, they are supposed to do Volare but they have not been right since we got them, it is possible they went wrong in the post, never order by mail is my advice, apart from anything else they get your name on the computer and before you know it you are full of double-glazing and cowboys doing your drains, it can all start with sending off for door-chimes, anyway I run into the hall just in time to see one of the chime things coming off the wall due to him leaning on the bell, these mail-order items cannot take punishment of that order, they are all made in Korea, and it fell on the cat basket, I put him in when I’m stuffing turkeys, lock him in a normal room when there’s hormones about and he’ll have the paper off the walls, they’re jungle animals really, you cannot entirely civilise a cat, did you know that, he’s 14 and never answers to his name, so I opened the door and I dragged him inside, Brian, not the cat, and right away I said what’s that smell, and he said what smell, and I said don’t give me what smell, I may not be able to afford cheap scent out of the miserable bloody housekeeping but that does not mean I cannot recognise it when someone walks into my hall smelling like budget night down the knocking-shop, who was it this time, the one in accounts or the tall skinny cow from vouchers, so he said, oh that smell, and I said yes, that smell, and he said that is my new aftershave, Mr Winston give it me on account of a year’s devoted warehouse service, so I said Mr Winston give you attar of bloody roses, what is he, a pansy all of a sudden, pull this one, show me the bottle, and he said after they threw us out of the Rat & Cockle due to where big Norman was sick in the avocado dip, not so’s anyone could notice, after they threw us out we had nothing left to drink so we sat in the car park and drank my new aftershave, that is why I smell of it, shall I help you do the tree now, and I said you touch my children’s tree with those hands what have been God knows where, you desecrate the holy fir, you defile one chocolate Santa, I said, I’ll put you in A and bloody E, and I do not know what might have happened then if the cat hadn’t shot by with the turkey in its gob due to me not noticing that when the chime fell on its basket the lid opened and the cat had took off straight into the kitchen, I couldn’t believe it when it flashed past, for a moment I didn’t know whether it was the turkey that had got the cat, you hear about where they run around months after their heads have been chopped off, anyway they both run upstairs and when I finally got them out of the loft the turkey had only one leg and was covered with fluff and mouse doings, it was no good just rinsing it under the tap, I found the cat’s bell inside it, it had obviously stuck its head up the turkey’s bum looking for giblets, I had to soak it in Dreft, I would not risk Ariel, despite superior stain removal, on account of it being biological and bound to react with the hormones, I have seen films where after an atomic explosion ants come out the size of buses, I could not go to bed leaving a turkey soaking in biological cleaner, I would not be able to sleep, can you imagine it swelling up as big as an ostrich and hopping about on this one enormous leg, running about the house looking for its head, at least you know where you are with Dreft, I have remained loyal to Dreft during 18 years of marriage, it does not let you down like husbands and kids and bloody cats, so where was I, oh yes, if you think Christmas Eve was bad, let me tell you what kind of Christmas Day I had, it all started with . . .”