Continuing on past the workshop and the vegetable gardens, I automatically diverted from the path that led around to my parents’ front door, instead leaving a trail of footprints as I cut across the sports pitch to the high hedge that separated the Coach House from the rest of the school. Typing in the security code that opened the wooden gate, I gave it the little shove to the right that enabled it to skim over a wonky paving slab no one ever bothered to fix, and slipped through.

Immediately the back of the house lit up in a blaze of light, accompanied by the anti-burglar alarm that was my parents’ two black Labradors – their frenzied barks were always intended to welcome any visitors, rather than scare them away.

Wow.

Mum had not been exaggerating when she’d said that she’d made an effort.

The six trees that proudly lined the two sides of the garden stretching towards the house were covered in icicle-shaped lights, underneath one of which stood the statue of a doe and her fawn. Beside me, in the furthest corner from the house, the fir tree that stood fifteen feet high was decked out in more finery than most indoor counterparts, with lights, shiny ornaments, and dozens of silver bows drooping under half an inch of snow.

The footpath leading from the gate to the back door was marked with lanterns, and the door itself displayed a giant wreath in the shape of a star. The patio was dotted with pots of evergreen bushes covered in more tiny lights, and while on any other day it might have looked overdone, with the snow falling it was enchanting.

The back door flung open as I approached, the dogs rushing out only to skid to a stop two feet away and offer me a paw. Mum and Dad always had dogs as emotional support animals for the school, so while they might bark if someone came to the house, they were unfailingly polite in person. These two were officially called Dumbledog and Kardashian, as decided via student vote. Thankfully, they had soon been shortened to Dumble and Dash.

‘Hello there!’ I gave them the fuss they deserved before letting them bound off to enjoy the snow. Turning back to the house, I was unsurprised to see Mum standing on the doorstep flapping a tea towel.

‘Come on, then, we’ve delayed things long enough thanks to your work thing. Nana Joy is almost asleep at the table.’ She softened her scolding with a brusque hug and practically pushed me into the kitchen. ‘Oh dear, you are a mess. Were you planning on changing when you got here? There’s a hairdryer in your room if you want to take fifteen minutes to sort yourself out.’

‘I thought I’d delayed things long enough?’ I asked, flipping back my hood so that a clump of snow plopped onto the tiled floor.