Philip pulled the collar of his coat closer around his neck. The weather had turned a lot colder now and was grey and overcast. No mistaking that it was winter now. He made a mental note that he needed to buy a decent scarf and some thicker gloves. You’d have thought that with him working outside the whole year in all weathers that he would get used to the cold, but when he was gardening it was a different matter – he generated his own heat by working hard and he was distracted. Wandering around town, however, he was well aware of the lower temperatures.

The plan was to buy some presents for Peter, Shirley and the girls. It had been such a long time since he’d last visited and he felt more than a little guilty for his absence. He’d lost track of what sort of things they liked too, which made the shopping trip that much more complicated. He’d already picked up some nice wine to go with the meal (a bottle of white and a bottle of red as he wasn’t sure what they were having for dinner, just that they were having a roast) by popping into the local off license. They would probably do as a present for both Peter and Shirley, but he still needed something for Michelle and Clare. Having not seen them for a while, he’d completely lost track of the sorts of things they liked, and was struggling for ideas.

He had a vague idea that music wouldn’t be totally unwelcome, so sauntered into HMV to browse the chart album shelves. He didn’t recognise any of the artists and it made him feel very old and out of touch. Was it really that long since he’d listened to the charts? He had no idea which bands would be considered “cool” to a sixteen and thirteen year old – he had strong suspicions that none of the music he would enjoy listening to would do the job. He swallowed his pride and approached the sales assistant that looked most young and trendy.

“Hi. I wonder if you can give me a hand. I’m trying to buy some CDs for my teenage nieces and am struggling to pick something out. I have no idea what sort of music they listen to.” He pulled his best ignorant old-fogey grin and hoped that the kid didn’t have any weird musical tastes.

The youngster gave him a look. “You know, giving vouchers is a time honoured tradition. We have a nice selection of gift cards you can choose from.”

“It’s not the same though, is it? Be honest, if you got vouchers given to you as a present you wouldn’t be that excited, would you?”

The sales assistant grinned. “Good point.” He glanced through the chart album list and named four artists that he thought the girls might like. Philip decided to buy all four albums, just in case. “Keep the receipt,” warned the assistant, “we’ll always accept them back if it isn’t quite what they wanted.”

“I will do, thanks for your help.”

Peter left the shop and glanced at his watch. That had taken far less time than he’d planned, he only hoped the presents were appreciated. He decided to go directly to the Marks’ house even though he was a bit early – it seemed silly to loiter around town for any longer in this weather.

It didn’t take him long to walk there and soon he was standing outside their door having rung the doorbell. The door opened.

“Hi, Peter! Sorry I’m a bit early, I hope I’m not intruding. I come bearing gifts!” Philip thrust the bottles of wine in Peter’s direction.

Peter took the bottles and gestured inside. “No problem, I was only reading the paper. Come in, come in. Shirley’s busy in the kitchen but the girls are somewhere about.” He moved inside and shouted upstairs. “Michelle! Clare! Your Uncle Philip is here!”

A herd of heffalumps cunningly disguised as two teenage girls thundered down the stairs. “Uncle Philip!” “Did you bring us anything?” Philip returned the hugs that were thrown in his direction, grinning with delight at his reception committee.

“Well… I might have a little something… you might not like them though.” He drew out the bag containing the CDs and passed them over. They were met with squeals of delight. Philip hid his relief and sent a prayer of thanks to the sales assistant he met earlier. “You’ll have to fight over which ones each of you want, but I thought you’d end up sharing them or taping them into your own compilations anyway.”

“Thank you, Uncle Philip!” Michelle turned to Peter. “Dad, can we go play these upstairs until dinner is ready, please?”

“Okay then. Don’t have them on too loud.”

“No, dad.” Michelle and Clare thundered back up the stairs, full of excited chatter.

“How do you do it?” Peter asked his younger brother. “I never know what to get them or what their tastes are at any second of the day.”

“Oh you know how it is. I just keep in touch with popular culture, keep my finger on the pulse, the usual… ” Philip saw Peter’s disbelieving look and broke into a grin. “Okay, I cheated horribly and begged the sales assistant in HMV to recommend some artists.”

Peter laughed. “I’ll remember that when it comes up to Christmas and Shirley’s nagging me to participate in the annual shopping scramble.”

“I think I’ll just go pop in and see Shirley in the kitchen and say hi, if that’s okay. You’ll probably be glad to get back to your paper for a bit, I’m sure.”

Peter pointed towards the kitchen. “You know where it is. You’re right, I wouldn’t mind finishing the financial section before dinner. Take these bottles through to Shirley would you and ask her which she wants opened?”

Philip took back the wine and opened the kitchen door. “Shirley, hi! Wow that smells good, hope you’ve made loads because I’m ravenous!”

“Philip! Good to see you!” Shirley gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek. “We’ve missed you. Gah, Peter is a lousy host, you’re still wearing your coat! Let me take that and hang it in the closet for you.”

Philip knew better than to argue and meekly took off his coat and surrendered it to Shirley who promptly bustled it out of the kitchen. On her return she caught him peering into the oven and lifting up pan lids.

“Not quite the fatted calf, I’m afraid,” she said, slapping his hand away from the pans, “but it is a rather nice cut of beef sirloin with all the trimmings. I hope it meets with your approval.”

“It certainly does!” He nursed his hand dramatically, even though she’d only given him a small tap. “Can I do anything to help? Feel a bit like the fifth wheel here having arrived so early, and if I leave the kitchen then I’m sure to annoy Peter who is completely immersed in his papers by now.”

“Nope. I think everything’s under control, sorry.”

“There must be something. I know, I can open the red wine to breathe a bit. Where do you keep your corkscrew?” He started opening random drawers to hunt it out.

“NO! Not that drawer!” Shirley rushed to close it again, but was too late. Philip was already pulling out her hidden travel brochures.

“That’s an odd place to keep travel brochures!” He looked at Shirley strangely. “Planning to go away somewhere this year? These are a bit more adventurous than your usual trips away, aren’t they?”

Shirley flushed and looked very flustered. “Oh… those… no. I just picked them up for a project in my pottery class…”

Philip wasn’t convinced. “You’re using travel magazines for a pottery class? How exactly?”

“Well … you see… um….” She had a sudden brainwave. “It’s the colours – I’m trying to find just the right colour glaze and I saw these and immediately thought the blue greens in the sea were perfect.”

“So let me get this straight. You got fifteen to twenty brochures, just for one blue green colour you saw in one of the brochures while you happened to be browsing in a travel agents?” Philip was holding back the laughter, wondering just how far Shirley would go in trying to get out of this one, whatever it was she was trying to get out of. “Shirley, you really are a lousy liar.”

She sighed and leaned against the counter. “Yes, I know, sorry. Please don’t tell Peter you found them, I’ll feel really silly. I just picked them up on a whim really. A bit of harmless housewife fantasy. Happy now?”

“Hmm. No, not really. Not if you feel you are missing out. Look, surely the girls are old enough now that they wouldn’t care that much that you weren’t dragging them away on holiday? I’d be happy to have them for a couple of weeks if you and Peter wanted to go away on a holiday of a lifetime. I’d love to have them. Okay, I can’t promise that it won’t be they that are the responsible ones, but that’s the risk you have to take.” Philip was concerned. Shirley looked tired, and he hadn’t known her to keep secrets before, although he supposed everyone kept secrets, it was just most people were better at keeping them secret than Shirley.

“Thanks for the offer, Philip, I do really appreciate it. I just don’t think Peter will be that keen. He’d want to keep the idea of a big family holiday, and doesn’t really enjoy the touring and history kind. It’s just a nice dream for a wet and cold November, that’s all.” She turned away to tend to the roast. “Oh, corkscrew is in the top drawer on the left, by the way. Not long until dinner now. Could you let Peter and the girls know, please?”

Philip opened the bottle of wine and took it out to the dining room and did a fine job of rounding up the family for the mealtime. By the time he returned to the table, he was in mid banter with Clare about some classroom escapade she’d had that week and all the food had been laid out ready for the feast.

“Wow, Shirley. I think you’ve really excelled yourself this time!” Philip exclaimed as he surveyed all the dishes. “Although I think you catered for fifteen not five!”

“Yeah, looks good Mum.” Michelle passed her seal of approval as she sat down at the table.

“I’m sure you’ll all do it the justice it deserves.” Shirley said, completely failing to hide her pride at the compliment. “Now, don’t just sit there staring at it, start helping yourselves, it’s not getting any warmer while you wait.”

The next five minutes was bedlam with dishes being passed up and down the table, Shirley constantly checking that everyone had helped themselves to yorkshire puddings and Peter reminding the girls to let their guest help himself first. Philip enjoyed being part of the whirl of activity, a slice of family life he didn’t often get to participate in being the bachelor uncle. Still, he would also appreciate the peaceful sanctuary of home once he returned to it. Guest appearances in domesticity were good enough. Once things had settled down a bit more, he attempted to make some small talk between mouthfuls. “So, Peter. How’s that project of yours going?”

Peter was evasive. “Oh, fine. Quite good actually.”

“Don’t let his modesty fool you. From what I’ve heard it’s going very well.” Shirley gushed, obviously very proud of her husband. “We’ve been invited for the first time to some fancy cocktail party at his boss’ house on Friday, and the same weekend he’s being sent on some training weekend at their residential centre. It looks like they’re finally recognising all the hours of unpaid overtime he’s put in over the last few months.”

Philip noticed that Peter looked uncomfortable and didn’t make eye contact with either him or his wife after her glowing report and spent the rest of the meal wondering why.