Rafferty finally called a halt at 10.00 p m. He was nearly home before he remembered his promise to Llewellyn. He'd have rung his Ma and asked her about accommodating Llewellyn's mother, but, even if he'd thought of it, he'd had no chance during the day and he knew his ma hated getting telephone calls late at night; she always expected disaster.
But a promise was a promise. She'd still be up, he knew, as she rarely went to bed before midnight. With a tired sigh, he turned the car and made for her home.
He opened the door with his key, shouting, 'It's only me,' as he shut the front door and opened the one to the living room.
His Ma was sitting in her armchair, staring into space, at her feet the box containing the Christmas decorations, and in her hand the baby Jesus from the manger scen
