Clover was aware of bemused looks being exchanged between her two friends as slowly she unfurled her fingers from their death grip, placing her hands in Johnny’s and letting him pull her out onto the ice. She gave a squeal as she felt her blades run over the glassy surface. Why had she even let them talk her into this? They knew she’d had a lifelong fear of skating ever since Tom – aged eight – had terrified her with stories of blood-smeared ice and sliced-off fingers.

‘Oh god, please can I have a penguin?’ she cried as they moved out further into the slipstream.

‘Clo, they’re for children,’ Matty laughed behind her.

‘I don’t care! I need a penguin!’

‘You’re too tall!’

‘I’ll go on my knees then.’

‘That’s not skating!’ Matty chuckled.

‘Now I know how men feel when their wives are in labour,’ Johnny winced as Clover gripped his hands so tightly, they were blanched white.

‘Johnny, this is probably the closest you’ll ever get to that scenario,’ Matty tutted. ‘The chances of you ever convincing a woman to have your children is—’

‘Dependent upon my openness to wearing a collared shirt?’

A silence opened up around Clover, looks she couldn’t catch passing right by her. She was vaguely aware her friends needed her to adjudicate, as per, but she couldn’t believe they were even able to conduct a conversation – much less an argument! – while doing this. They were holding her up! Johnny was skating backwards! Was she the only Londoner who couldn’t skate?

They did a few very slow revolutions of the rink. Clover wanted to get back to the safety of the drinks tent. She’d do anything for a high stool and a hot chocolate right now.

‘Okay, now try this.’

‘What? What?’ she asked in panic, watching as Matty peeled off and away, skating past with a grace she could never achieve, even with flashing reindeer antlers on her head.

Clover felt ungainly and ridiculous by comparison and she was certainly regretting her Santa hat and tinsel scarf. ‘Matty, come back! You promised!’

‘Now I’m going to come round you and skate with you from behind,’ Johnny said. ‘That way you can transfer your weight a little and I can support you around the waist. Okay?’

‘What? No! We have to keep doing this,’ she insisted in a shaky voice, her eyes wide with terror.

‘Progress, Clo.’ And before she could stop him, Johnny released his hands from her grip with a wide smile. ‘There you go!’