45 And, just like that my world gets a million times better, even with all the beef that’s going on.

‘Come in for a bit,’ Katja says, pulling me inside. ‘We’ve got so much to talk about.’

‘Is everyone … normal in your house?’ I ask, looking down the narrow hallway towards Kat’s living room.

‘As normal as they usually are,’ Kat says. ‘Eva’s still asleep, but she never gets up till about one, and Mum’s gone over to Granny’s to check on her, because of the phones.’

‘What about the phones?’ I say, as Kat’s cockapoo, Nugget, comes bombing down the stairs and leaps on me, tail wagging like crazy.

‘How can you not know?’ Kat says. ‘Get down, Nugget!’

Nugget is awesome. I give him a hug and let him lick my ear, even though it’s gross, cos it’s such a relief, firstly that I’m here with Kat, and secondly that her dog isn’t freaked out like my cat is. ‘It’s OK,’ I say. ‘I’ve missed Nugget too.’

‘It’s like ten a.m. and you haven’t even checked your phone yet? You’re a disgrace to our generation.’

‘Honestly, I couldn’t think about anything this 46 morning except the mental stuff happening in my house.’

‘Sounds like we need snacks. Let’s get snacks.’

I follow Kat into her kitchen, with Nugget bouncing around at my feet.

‘Drink?’

‘Anything with caffeine, please.’

‘Crisps or cake? Actually, I’ll get both.’

I lean against the kitchen counter while she gets a tray of stuff together, then I carry it into the living room which is about as Christmassy as it’s possible for a room to be. About a third of the room is taken up by the derpiest tree I’ve ever seen. It’s only a bit taller than Katja, but it is about three times as fat as it is high. It has loads of thick branches on one side, and hardly any on the other, with just a few jutting out here and there. It’s leaning over like it’s trying to find a white feather in the snow. ‘Wow,’ I say.

‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ Kat beams. ‘I love her so much.’

‘You chose it on purpose, didn’t you?’ I put the tray down on the coffee table, being extra careful not to spill anything. I already scraped up Kat’s front path, I really don’t want to stain her carpet, too.

47 ‘Of course. I like to choose the special Christmas trees that look like they really need a loving home.’

‘It’s definitely, erm, special,’ I say, and Kat whacks me in the arm.

‘So, the phones,’ she says. ‘We woke up this morning, and nothing was working. No phone signal, no internet. Nothing.’