The card was intimate enough that it was clearly intended for my parents and not just wrongly addressed. It greeted them by name, and it cheerily exclaimed "We really must meet up in 1989!" It had one sentence of hand-written news about the children, Faye, Michael and Anne: "All doing well" or some such generality.
We then sat back and watched over breakfast, as my parents struggled to remember who Derek and Joyce were, and - crucially - how they could reciprocate and get a card in the post to them before Christmas. My mother thought that Derek, a friend of my father's living in South Africa, must have remarried in the course of the year, moved to England, and acquired three step-children. My father thought that Joyce was an old friend of my mother's from her nursing days, who'd decided to get in touch again on a whim. This all played out in front of our delighted, conspiratorial eyes.
We left it a day or two, and then confessed. Derek and Joyce passed into family lore, and the next year my parents received another card from them, this time complete with newsletter all about the lives of Faye, Michael and Anne, their grown-up children.
I'd like to say that Derek and Joyce are still sending Christmas cards within my family, but actually, they petered out after two or three. Best to leave a joke at its height than flog it to annual death. They did make a guest appearance, more than a decade later, when they left a card at the wedding of a friend of mine, signing it "With fondest love, and we're just sorry we can't be at the wedding ourselves. Hope you like the present, and if not, we've included the receipt so you can exchange it" - but of course there was no present or receipt. A few months later, Derek and Joyce sent my newly-wed friends a Christmas card. "So sorry not to have been with you for your special day, but we've heard all about it and seen lots of wonderful photos. It looked like a magical occasion, and what sweet little bridesmaids! We do hope you enjoyed the present." The amazing thing was that I got a card back from them. "Thanks for your card. Have a super Christmas. Love from Derek and Joyce". In spite of the anonymous postmark and the disguised handwriting, my friend had guessed who Derek and Joyce's creator was.
I think of Derek and Joyce at Christmas time, obviously, and particularly when I hear God Rest You Merry Gentlemen, when the chorus comes round:
O-oh, tidings of Derek and Joyce,
Derek and Joyce!
O-oh, tidings of De-e-rek and Joyce!
.
