Christmas 2002

Christmas Day was the only day of the year when no-one was supposed to be working. Therefore it was one of the few occasions when a bell was rung inside the House. Plenty rang outside, because the cathedral was so close, but this one rang three short blasts to alert everyone that breakfast was being served. Any other day, breakfast could be eaten any time between 7am to 10am. Today, they all had to sit down together, regardless of who they were and what gangs were going to clash. Mello had already ensured that he and Matt were downstairs waiting for it, having deduced what time it would ring. He wanted to be the first in there, so to be able to choose the best seat for watching everyone else.



Ann was just inside the doorway waiting. Mello rushed forward and hugged her quickly. "Merry Christmas, Mello." She said, as Matt sneaked in behind him and was clear before she attempted to hug him too. She called in his wake. "Merry Christmas, Matt."



The redhead waved, inspecting the fare on the hot plates in the counter. Mello extracted himself and raced to his side. The other children were starting to file in, receiving hugs and a welcome from Ann, before joining the queue behind Mello and Matt. They could have a cooked breakfast here or cereal at the end of the counter. Mello opted for the latter and filled his bowl with cocoa pops. He had already located his seat. It was at the opposite side of the room and therefore had a good view of the door and every table in between. He claimed it quickly. Matt joined him with bacon, eggs, sausage, black pudding, hash browns, fried bread and a strange looking slice of brown bread. Mello pointed with his spoon. "What\'s that?"



"Mrs C says it\'s soda bread. She said it\'s no good for you and so I shouldn\'t have one."



Mello blinked. If Mrs Carnegie had said that, then it must be really good for them. It was basic reverse psychology. "I want one."

He glanced at the queue. It was way too long to join. Matt though just stood up, sauntered across, pushed in the front and grabbed one. It was behaviour like this that kept confirming to Mello that Matt wasn\'t actually shy. He was aloof and unsociable, but not shy. He just didn\'t like people paying attention to him for no good reason that Mello could see. The soda bread was secured and handed to Mello, who thanked him, then sniffed it suspiciously. "We don\'t normally have this. This is foreign food. There\'s someone here who misses this and so they\'ve been kind and got it for them for Christmas Day. I\'m going to watch who it is."



In the event, there was no great discovery or even anyone trying to cover it up. Fenian made a loud fuss, but everyone knew his nationality. He made no effort to cover it up and, in Mello\'s opinion, Fenian should have been kicked out a week after he\'d arrived for announcing to the whole class, "I\'m Irish! I\'ll not have the fecking English come and tell me I\'m not!" Even his pseudonym spoke of his origins. He was never going to be L and so should leave. However, there were still possibilities here. Mello watched Chrissie like a hawk. She had similiar colouring to Fenian and no-one had ever been able to discern her origins. She didn\'t react at all, she didn\'t even have a slice.



Mello waited until everyone had their breakfast, then he raced to the counter and inspected more closely the rest of the food. There was a pile of thick pancakes. He pointed to them. "What are they?"



"Potato pancakes." Rita informed him. "Very nice, would you like one?"



Mello turned to inspect the plates in front of his peers. Three people had one. He turned back. "What country are they from?"



"I have no idea." She called back and asked.



Mrs Carnegie responded. "Tell Mello to just get a couple down his neck. He needs to worry more about the taste than the nationality."



"What are they?" Mello pointed to another plate of things that looked like a cross between omelettes and pancakes.



"Eggs, wheat flour and diced onion." Rita smiled. "Would you like one?"



"No." Mello\'s keen gaze was taking in everything new. "What are they called?" A hand appeared around the edge of the hatch holding a slice of bread covered in chocolate spread. Mello took it. "Thank you. What are they?"



"It\'s a root shrub. You\'d hate it. It\'s quite bitter."



Mello took a bite of his bread and chocolate spread, turning to see who was eating it. Two people. He turned back to smile charmingly at Rita. "Roger\'s told you where we\'re all from. You\'ve made breakfast treats."



"Too smart for your own good." Rita winked at him. "But you\'re not finding out what anything is called, so you can give up now."



There was a flash of white at Mello\'s elbow and he turned to find that Near was standing beside him. One hand held a plate, the other was in his white hair, twirling a lock. He didn\'t look at Mello. Mello glared, then immediately turned to memorise every strange item on offer. He would locate them all if he had to spend all night in Google Images. Then a second thought occurred. There was absolutely nothing from Yugoslavia. Not a pastry. Not a bun. Not even a slice of... Mello looked down at the half eaten chocolate spread bread in his hand and grinned. He gave Near a supercilious look and turned on his heels to return to Matt.