The suspense builds, constantly becoming more palpable. It towers higher than little Emma’s Lego structure. A poised forkful of mashed potato falls back onto the plate with a splat: mouths open.
There’s Dad. Why is he taking so long? George thinks. Can’t he just get it over and done with? Mum is close to crying; Grandma looks like she’s going to pass out. George imagines the headlines. Could be very bad.
A moment of terror. Silence. Then screams. Shouts of elation. Right hand corner—way past any goalkeeper’s reach. And just like that, George’s Dad wins the World Cup.