Wifey and I have never spent a Christmas together, just the two of us. We actually meet at a Christmas party in 1983 she was the red face girl, pint in hand looking worse for wear. I was asked what I thought of her, eyeing her up from a distance I announced she was not for me.
She started too grown on me as a mate part of the group. Just two mates having a laughter and a joke but towards the end of the summer of 1984 I had develop a secret lusting for her. She was dating and so was I, kind of, so I stared a campaign of subterfuge. It worked and by January 1985, we were a couple married by October.
Christmas 1985 there we were in our flat on Allansbank Road across the road from the old cemetery sitting at our little table in the bay window looking out on to the empty road and street reminiscing about past Christmas. Who would have believed the year previous that we were being a married couple? Between us we knock-up a decent Christmas dinner, turkey with all the trimmings, but the arrival of family end our day of just us.
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