“Parcels, mum, parcels; we have got a whole van full.”
“A van full!” I exclaimed, seeing a large red parcels-delivery van in the road.
“Yes, a special van for you, mum, containing one hundred and ninety-six parcels.”
I nearly collapsed.
“Where are they to go?” I exclaimed.
“I don’t know,” he replied.
“They can’t come in here,” chirruped the cook, knowing the hall was already packed.
“You must leave them in the van,” I suggested helplessly, “until I have time to think what is to be done with them.”
“Can’t do that,” replied the smiling postman. “We have brought you a ’special delivery’ as it is, and I must go back for my ordinary rounds.”
“Well, they can’t come in here,” I repeated in the cook’s words, as the wind howled down the street and stray flakes of snow fell.