Snow lay several inches thick upon the top of the car, but Melody had sent her husband, Denzel, and the boys out to clear the driveway.

‘This is childhood slavery!’ one of them grumbled, stopping to lean on his shovel. ‘Excuse me, miss, can you please call the police and tell them that children are being forced into labour?’

‘Shut up, Bobby. Slaves don’t get paid!’ the eldest, Benji, jeered. ‘If she calls the police then how do we get McDonald’s?’

‘Duh, even slaves get given food!’

‘None of you will be getting anything if you spend the whole day arguing,’ their dad interjected. ‘Don’t forget, it’s Christmas Eve. Not too late for Santa to make a few edits to the naughty list.’

‘I bet Santa doesn’t agree with child slavery,’ Bobby huffed, making another half-hearted stab at a lump of snow. ‘Elf slavery, maybe.’

In unspoken agreement, Henry and I each took a shovel off the youngest two children, soon creating a patch around the car that would enable us to at least make a start.

‘You owe us a cheeseburger next time we’re up.’ Henry smiled as he handed the shovel back. ‘Oh, and one of the elves asked me to give you this.’ He pulled three five-pound notes out of his wallet and gave one to each boy. ‘A Christmas tip.’

‘Thank you!’ The boys grinned as we climbed into the car, attacking another pile of snow with renewed enthusiasm.

‘That might be sooner than we’d like,’ I suggested, squinting as the rising sun bounced off the gleaming white driveway.

‘No chance.’ Henry shook his head determinedly as he started to creep forwards. ‘I promised your parents that I’d see you safely home by Christmas. I fully intend to keep that promise. Besides, I’d rather stay in the shack we found online than crawl back to Baxter.’

‘I think it might be time to revisit the shack.’

Henry peered through the windscreen, his face grim. We’d been driving for four hours and had so far covered the grand total of thirty miles, thanks to snowdrifts, two more fallen trees blocking different roads, and stopping to check that no one was in the car we spotted hanging out of a ditch.

We’d been banking on the A road we were aiming for being a little easier, but, approaching the junction, we could see a line of cars inching along so slowly that a child had time to jump out, lie down and make a snow angel, then hop back in again.