“Well then, let’s see it!” Laura grinned proudly after greeting her husband and daughter with hugs. Giggling, Samantha turned around and lifted the back of her skirt on the side where she had been stamped, revealing the branding which now only felt slightly sore, although a quick experiment upon getting out of the car had confirmed that it was still very sensitive to the touch. “Oh my!” Laura gushed as she leaned in closer to take a look. “Certified by a member of The Royal Order of Butchers and Agricultural Livestock Producers! Well, well!” Samantha was puzzled for a moment then realised that her mum must be reading the text around the edge of the circle, writing which she herself had noticed but not paid particular attention to, far more captivated by the large and prominent A in the middle! “All official then?” she gave a little chuckle. For confirmation, Josh passed her the envelope with the certificate from the council to which had been added the health report from the butcher. Laura took them out and read them then carefully folded them back into the envelope. “I’d better take care of these.” she observed, putting them carefully in the drawer of her desk where she kept all the family’s important paperwork.

“So, did it… Ooh!” Samantha started to scan the room, squealing with excitement when she saw the large, brown cardboard box on the dining table and the eight large reinforced envelopes that were sitting upright on one of the chairs like oversized toast in a rack. She ran over and checked the delivery label on the box to confirm that it was what she thought it was. “Can I open it?” she asked, gripping it as excitedly as if it were Christmas morning already and she knew what whatever was inside had been top of her wish-list.

“What on earth is all that?” Josh asked, genuinely confused. He did not remember any discussion about ordering anything that big, nor could he think of anything that Samantha might be so excited to take delivery of that could fit in such a box.

“From the printer.” Laura informed him with her by now typical enigmatic brightness. “Remember? We said we were going to get the invitations done professionally?” Samantha had sat down at the table, pulled the box towards her and was tearing off the strip of packing tape across the top. Both parents joined her, one either side.

“That’s an awfully big box for, what?” Josh did a quick mental calculation. “Twenty invitations? Aren’t they printed on A5 postcards? Those should just have come through the letterbox!”

“We might have ordered a bit more!” Samantha giggled, looking a little sheepish. “When we started looking at all the cool stuff on their page…”

“I’m afraid we may have got a little carried away,” Laura gave an apologetic smile, “but if ever an event could be called ‘once in a lifetime’…” she made air-quotes with her fingers. “Plus we had fun!”

“Well there’s what counts ultimately.” Josh smiled reassuringly, putting his hand on her arm. “I know how persuasive out little girl can be once she gets her heart set on something!” He quickly explained about Emily and the bulk order of her meat he had made at the butcher’s while Samantha started pulling individual packages of varying sizes out of the larger box, each wrapped in neat brown paper. Once she had them all out and had passed the enclosed invoice to her mum to put with the rest of the records, she dropped the empty box onto the floor and spread the packages out as if trying to decide which one to investigate first. Josh found himself very curious about what could be in the huge, flat envelopes but he was sure that Samantha would get to them in due course.

“Open this one.” Laura tapped the flattest package which was only about half an inch thick. “I think that will be the invitations.” She and Josh watched with interest as their daughter flipped the package over and broke the small sellotape seal with her finger then unfolded the paper. Inside there were indeed a stack of glossy, over-sized postcards sitting on a stack of slightly twinkly gold envelopes. “We thought those would be a nice touch.” Laura explained. “Show people right away that it’s something special!” Samantha picked up the top-most card from the pile and studied it with awe for a few moments before passing it to her dad and another to her mum.

“These came out so well!” she gushed. “Mum’s great at editing, isn’t she?” she grinned at Josh who could not deny being impressed by what he saw. On the left, in swirly gold lettering surrounded by holly and mistletoe were the words “The Martin Family cordially invite you to share in their Festive Feast” under which, in a slightly blockier red font were the words “Christmas Day, December 25th” followed by the address of the hall and a request to RSVP, giving Laura’s phone number and a special email address she had set up for the occasion so that she could keep track of responses. In even smaller letters at the bottom was a friendly message explaining that the main meal was all taken care of but inviting people to bring something to share for the evening as well as drinks, but stressing that this was not a requirement.

It was the right-hand side of the card, however, that was really eye-catching, dominated as it was by one of the photographs that Josh had taken of Samantha in the roasting tray, one that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, but which had been expertly edited by his wife so that Samantha’s lovely body now had a golden-brown sheen as if she were already roasted and ready to carve and she was surrounded in the pan by roast potatoes, onions and other chunky vegetables. This took up the entire side of the card but superimposed in front of it, in the corner with the top of her head reaching about half way up the card was another picture of Samantha, kneeling on an invisible surface, naked again of course apart from a Santa hat but clearly alive and well and grinning at the camera. It was a very cute and pretty picture but not one Josh was familiar with.

“You took this one while I was out?” he asked.

“Among others!” Laura grinned.

“You did an amazing job with the editing!” he complimented her sincerely. “Looks as if Sam is ready to carve!”

“I hope I really do look so pretty on the day!” Samantha gave a slightly wistful sigh. “You will keep me well-basted while I cook, won’t you?” she implored. “So my skin doesn’t crack?” They both assured her that they would and that they were sure, when she was served to the guests, she would look even more beautiful and delicious than in the picture.


To be continued...