Using the miracle of modern technology, combined with slackness in writing, I have been able to reproduce this photograph of Matt four days before it was taken!
It came about because of those lovely pre-Christmas smells from the kitchen. The culmination of a day of buzzing and clanging and washing up.
There, on the bench, on the cooling rack was the Christmas Cake.
"I can't wait for it to cool", I recall saying, or words to that effect. They were hollow words though, for if I'd had the slightest hint of approbation the knife would have been despatched in an instant, as indeed would the first portion of cake.
Instead of the reply that I was expecting, I was told in no uncertain terms that I was not to touch it lest I should surely suffer an unimaginable fate.
"It's for Matthew" she intoned, and to emphasise the impact of this unwelcome news, added "he likes Christmas Cake."
And that is how it came to be, that we didn't need a Christmas Cake this year, apparently, and Matthew (bless him) declined to be photographed whilst eating that first wonderful slice.
I hope it gives him the runs!
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