You know her, we all know her. She was the one who faced the daily shame, ridicule and laughter. The one who had to put up with the mess that silly @@!**## left behind when she went to London.

You know her elder sister, don’t you? We all do. She was the one who attended the local Baptist church. You know her, don’t you? Sang in the choir, taught Sunday school, on the finance committee, she made her parents proud.

These last few years had been hell on earth. Slaves had a better life than the life she had picking up the pieces for that little…………

All the shame and torment this girl had put her through, page three of the sun, that nuts magazine photo-shoot, those pictures had been stuck on the door of her locker at work. The humiliation. She once caught her husband looking longingly at the pictures. He didn’t know she had seen him, but she had. It was in their bedroom one night. That was probably the hardest part of it. She would never forget the smile on his face. The hurt. The shame. The torment. Christmas dinner in July? What a stupid thing. Christmas in July? Who had ever thought of that? Her mum cooking Christmas dinner in December was a stretch. Her parents barely even cooked her and her family a turkey at Christmas and now this. Her mum grumbled and complained about work all Christmas, Christmas was a chore. Now this, Christmas in July.

How could they do this to her? She was the one who held her mother when she cried at that wretched Davina McCall interview. She was the one who held her daddy’s hand when a man in the street shouted a lewd comment. She was the one who tried to make the best of it, tried to make everyone laugh when they were all down and out. It was her, all her, she carried the load.

Christmas in July? Rage was building. Christmas dinner in July, have you ever heard the like?

Suddenly, the phone rang. She had caller display so she knew who it was. It was dad. Nervously she picked it up.

“Come home” he said. “The dinner is ready we are all waiting for you.”

There was silence, then dad spoke again “We know you were always here, we know what you put up with.”

Silence

“You know I love you” dad had broken the silence. “I always have and always will, but Ruth missed all those Christmas dinners, you know how we all loved Christmas. We just had to have Christmas again.”

Silence

“won’t you come round?”

Silence

“please?”

Silence

Click. The line went dead