She rolls her eyes and shoves the bowl of half-whipped cream at him.

'I've go' a son tha's gettin' pissed again and is abou' to go finish whippin' that fer me, 'cos my arm's knackered.'

He stares at it and sighs.

'Alrigh', mam.'

'No' too stiff, mind. It's f'the trifle. Go on, shoo.'

He shoos. He knows better than to get underfoot when his mum's cooking a big dinner. He does cast a look at Alex though, to see whether she's laughing at him getting bossed around by an old woman.