We all crowded pressed against the window, squashing our noses against the glass. At the end of the garden a hunched figure could just be seen in the darkness, leaning over something stabbed into the ground. Every now and then there was the flickering spark of a match lighting up then blowing out in the cold night breeze. The black shape in the anorak was starting to get impatient, stamping his feet in the soil and shaking his burnt fingers angrily. Me and my sister blinked at the painfully slow performance going on in Grandmas back garden.

''Mum, whats Dad doing?'' I asked, my hands and forehead flat against the glass like a mime.

Mum carried on staring blankly out at my Dad and took another weary sip of her hot chocolate, exhaling the same way another person would after a drag on a cigarette. ''He's doing something wrong, dear.'' She reached out to pat my very fed-up little sister on the head supportively, right between her bunches.

My face wrinkled in confusion as I watched Dad trying once again to light the stubborn firework. ''Maybe its empty?'' I vollunteered. I tried to ignore the fact that the horizon all around the little terraced house was exploding with starbursts and fizzing with bright colours, whilst our own little patch of black sky overhead was still very much void of anything exciting.

My sister pouted miserably. ''I wanna play with the Sparklers,'' she huffed, thrusting her bottom lip out.

Next to her my cousin Dan was leaning on his arms with his eyes peering exhaustedly over the tops, slumped down so he was nearly out of sight of the window display. ''Is Uncle John going to come in yet?'' he asked loudly.

''No, sweetheart,'' my Aunt sighed, behind him.

My mother and aunt looked at each other and rolled their eyes as if to say ''Men''.

Over in her chair Gran was sat looking hopeful that any moment now the sky would be reminiscient of the Blitz so she could clap her hands and wave a little flag for my Dad. ''Has he still not quite got it lit yet?'' she asked cheerfully.

''NO,'' we all droned, staring out of the window.

Suddenly in the darkness, something fizzled and a small, flickering light lit the end of the garden, my Dad in his wooly hat and scarf with it. The touchpaper had lit and was sizzling down toward the firework, ready to ignite.

''Woohoo!'' Aimee and Dan cried, bursting up off their hands immediately, flattening themselves against the back window excitedly.

''Finally...'' Mum sighed, shaking her head with a half smile.

I peered out into the dark, where Dad definately WASNT backing away from the lit explosive.

''Erm, Mum...whats he doing?''

In the glow of the firework, Dads face was creased with confusion as he leant in close to investigate something that was obviously puzzling him. The fuse meanwhile was still burning down...

''I dont... know,'' Mum said, leaning over my head to try and see. (I was still titchy then) She looked worried.

Suddenly Dad leapt back from the little firework in the ground and took off running toward the house, his arms and legs flailing comically. His face was one of sheer panic.

My Aunt reached out and pulled the back door open hurriedly. ''John, what -''

''OUTTA MY WAY, I LIT IT UPSIDE DOWN!'' Dad squawked as he barrelled in through the door, holding his hat onto his head as he ran.

We all squealed in terror and delight, and crushed in round the glass to watch the 'kaboom'.

The fuse fizzed down into the explosive, and for a second the spark died. Then there was a whoosing noise from within as the gunpowder went up.

BANG

The Roman Candle - that was definately meant to stay on the ground - shot into the sky with an erruption of flames and sparks, and turned into a tiny speck in the smoky sky.

Our heads jerked upwards and watched it vanish. Then -

BOOM

The second explosion burst out of the packaging, and with a trail of stars like a comet, the firework shot over the roof of the house and zoomed out of sight.

A second later there was a rumble as something exploded in the street outside, several car alarms beeping angrily and a lot of dogs barking indignantly.

We stared around at each other in surprise, up at Dad with his flushed face and beanie hat, and back at the empty back window.

Over in her chair, Gran was giggling uncontrollably.