‘I’d usually wait until the weekend of the tree auction,’ Dolly told me at first light on the Saturday morning, ‘but that’s a whole week away so I’ll make do with my other artificial tree this year.’

She sounded every bit as excited as the children at school.

‘Or we could put everything else up and do the tree next weekend?’ I suggested. ‘That way you won’t have to miss out on having a real tree.’

‘No, no,’ she said, checking the road again to see if Beamish was in sight. ‘I want it all done today.’

‘OK,’ I nodded, ‘whatever you say.’

‘Although you can’t beat the smell of a real tree of course,’ she wistfully added, ‘and that’s probably something you should add to the Wish List, Hattie.’

‘Tree sniffing?’ I laughed.

‘Scents of the season,’ she smiled back. ‘Cinnamon, orange, nutmeg and gingerbread . . .’

‘Oh stop,’ I interrupted, ‘you’ll set my stomach growling if you carry on.’

‘Oh,’ she said, abandoning her station at the window and heading for the door. ‘Here he is. You’d better get the kettle boiled again, Hattie dear. Decoration box distribution is hard, thirsty work.’

I went to fill the kettle at the sink thinking that so far pretty much everything on the list had been hard work, then I heard Dolly gasp.

‘How’s that?’ I heard Beamish ask. ‘Will it do?’

‘Oh Beamish,’ she cried, opening the door further and letting in a glacial blast of Wynbridge winter air, ‘it’s perfect, but wherever did you get it? The auction isn’t for another week. I didn’t think anything had been delivered yet.’

‘Well,’ he said, sounding well pleased by Dolly’s reaction, ‘I have my sources and I didn’t think you’d really want Hattie’s last Christmas in the UK spent looking at an artificial tree. They just don’t smell the same, do they?’

‘Come and see, Hattie!’ Dolly called, even though I was only a few feet away. ‘Look what Beamish has brought for us. You’ll have to let me pay for it,’ she added. ‘Now, where’s my purse?’

But Beamish wouldn’t hear of it.

‘It’s a gift, Dolly,’ he said. ‘Although not from me. The person who sent it said to consider it an early Christmas present. What do you think, Hattie?’

‘I think it’s the most perfect tree I’ve ever seen,’ I beamed, taking in the beautifully balanced branches and drinking in the heavenly fresh pine scent my friends were so keen on. ‘What a generous gift.’

Beamish’s smile grew even broader.

‘You still haven’t said where you got it from,’ Dolly reminded him. ‘I can’t imagine the garden centre have beauties like this. Look, Hattie, we’re going to be hard pushed to get the angel on top. It’s almost touching the ceiling.’

I couldn’t help but giggle, her excitement was contagious.