January 29: Preparation

Despite it being January, and very cold, we have decided we are having a BBQ-party, as mum is simply too polite and kind-hearted and generous-of-spirit to invite people around without offering them food - and we don't know what else to do. I watch from the indoor-warmth as my mum’s man rigs up a gazebo on the back patio and manhandles the rusty old gas-fired barbie into position. We sweep clutter from tables, dig out recipe books and bowls from carefully-packed boxes, turn the stereo up. My sister's friend, who hosts lots of charity dos, supplies plates and wine glasses. We've already got a stack of M&S burgers but we need more.
I've never in my life been to Lidls - too much of a snob. But today's the day. We sweep around with two trolleys, piling in the foreign sauces and cakes and pickles that are wonderfully obscure and untried and tested. We stock up on big jars of sundried tomatoes for a quid and raid their booze shelves.
If we'd been in Sainsbury's, it would have come to the best part of £300. As it was, it was just over a hundred. There's a teenager on the counter, amused by our high-spirited antics. We chat him up - invite him to the party in exchange for a discount. It doesn't quite work. Think I better dig out my eye-liner that hasn't seen the light of day yet this year. I must have lost my sex appeal.