I shuffle over to the next tree and he comes close again, lifting my hand and positioning the knife in the right place before stepping back. Somehow I force myself to think about what I’m doing instead of how close he is. I feel the weight of the knife, hold it up and look along it to judge the angle. This time when I swish the knife down, I actually manage to lop a few branches off, and after a couple of strokes, the tree starts to look better for it, and I can kind of work out what needs to be trimmed and what doesn’t, and I manage not to cause any injuries to myself or the shin pads.

I also notice with a bit of smug glee that Noel has stopped laughing now, and The Princess Bride pirate references have dried up. He watches silently as I slice branches off all the way around. When I lop the top off the growing tip, I turn and do a bow with the knife, grinning at him, but I nearly overbalance and narrowly miss impaling myself.

I can tell he’s trying not to smile as he walks around inspecting the tree, stroking his chin with his fingers, giving it the severe deliberation of grading an exam, and I suddenly feel ridiculously nervous.

It’s not perfect. I’ve taken a couple of chunks out and been a bit overzealous with trimming the top leader, and it’s taken me ages despite only being a small tree, whereas Noel does even the eight-footers in thirty seconds flat, but it’s better than I thought I could do this morning, and I feel positive about it, like it’s something I can learn and get better at. And I have a lot of trees to practice on.

Eventually Noel reappears from behind the tree and I can tell he’s struggling to keep a straight face – but he gives up far too easily and a smile spreads, making his eyes dance. ‘This is good. You should’ve seen the first one I ever did. It looked like the lovechild of Spongebob Squarepants and Peppa Pig had been in a terrible accident.’

I try not to show how happy his verdict makes me. I don’t need his approval, but his smile and the way he looks genuinely proud makes it impossible not to grin.

Maybe I am cut out for this after all.

Chapter 11

‘Nice, tight wiring. Now place another bunch just below so it overlaps, and wrap the wire around three times to hold it in place.’ Glenna nods in approval at my wreath-making skills or lack thereof. ‘You’ve got it.’