Christmas Day at the Lazy Luncheonette

A bit of festive fun with Joe and Co.

“It’s unusual though, innit, Uncle Joe?” said Lee Murray. “I mean normally, you come to ours on Christmas Day.”

On the other side of the Lazy Luncheonette, Lee’s son, Danny, played a game of pass the parcel with his mother, Cheryl, ably assisted by Sheila and Brenda.

“I just thought it would make a change,” said Joe, sipping on a glass of brown ale. “Sheila’s sons are both in America, Brenda would have been on her own, and you’d already been to see your mother the other day, so why not make use of the café while we have it to ourselves.”

Brenda casts a twinkly glance at him. “Knowing you, I’m surprised you didn’t open the doors for any passing trucker.”

“Nothing wrong with the profit motive,” Joe assured her. “But it is Christmas Day and there are no passing truckers.”

Cheryl took another layer of wrapping from the parcel as the music stopped. “Nearly there, Danny,” she said as Sheila started the cassette again. “Just one more wrapper.”

The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy tinkled through the empty café and the parcel did the rounds again. With a careful eye on its progress, Sheila stopped the music when it passed to four-year-old Danny.

The boy tore eagerly at the final sheet of wrapping paper, then held up the trophy for his mother’s approval.

“It’s a meat pie,” he declared.

“No, Danny,” Joe corrected him. “It’s a steak and kidney pie.”

Brenda took the pie from the boy and read the label. “Rock hard and three months out of date, too,” she said, with a sour glare at Joe.

“I found it at the back of the freezer,” Joe explained.

“Can I have it now, Mum?” Danny begged.

“It’ll make you poorly, Danny,” his mother replied.

Danny pouted and Sheila stood up. “Tell you what, Danny, how about some jelly and ice cream? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

The boy nodded enthusiastically.

“You are such a tight arse, Joe,” Brenda grumbled.

“What would you expect to find in a parcel from a café?” Joe defended himself. “The complete works of William Shakespeare?”

“You could have nipped next door and bought a toy car or something, Uncle Joe,” Cheryl suggested. “I know that means spending money, but…”

“I did spend money,” Joe argued. “Where do you think I got the wrapping paper and sellotape? And the pie didn’t come free, you know.”

“No, but the price has gone up since September,” Lee reminded him. “Never mind, Uncle Joe. You had the right idea.” He raised his glass. “Here’s to a merry Christmas.”

Everyone raised their glasses; even Joe, but his was the dissenting voice in the toast.

“Here’s to an inexpensive Christmas.”