‘If that’s supposed to set my mind at rest,’ I laughed, ‘it hasn’t. You do all right Dolly and you’re taking to the ice tonight. I think you’re a darn sight more sprightly than your pensionable cat.’

‘That’s true,’ she agreed. ‘Now, I think we’d better start with the angel, don’t you?’

Precariously balanced on top of a dining chair I couldn’t help wishing that we’d thought to ask Beamish to position the angel for us even though there wasn’t much height difference between us, but with one final stretch she was in situ, if not sitting entirely straight.

‘She’s a beauty,’ I said when my feet were back on the floor. ‘Where did you find her, Dolly?’

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘she’s been in the family for years. She’s probably from the sixties and I daresay she came from Woolworths. She wouldn’t have cost much.’

‘I bet she’s worth a fortune now,’ I said, gazing up at her angelic expression and slightly battered wings. ‘Did she come in a box?’

‘Probably,’ Dolly shrugged, ‘but that’s long gone. Now, come on. We better get cracking otherwise we won’t be finished before Beamish comes back to take us skating.’

Decorating Dolly’s little cottage was nowhere near as heavy going as the things I’d ticked off the Wish List through sheer hard work at school and I thoroughly enjoyed helping with the transformation. It had been a long time since I had decked anything and it was a pleasure looking through the boxes of treasures. Dolly’s array of decorations spanned decades and were an eclectic mix but looked fittingly festive nonetheless.

Dolly insisted that pretty much everything made it out of the boxes and I let her run with her over-the-top attitude to decking her halls because I knew she was doing it more for me than her. Her ‘making memories’ ethos was in full swing and I had no intention of trying to temper her enthusiasm.

‘You’re well ahead this year,’ commented the postman who had knocked mid-morning to deliver a couple of parcels which needed signing for.

‘That I am,’ said Dolly, scribbling her signature on the screen. ‘That’s nothing like my writing,’ she said, handing the contraption back.

‘They never work properly,’ tutted the postie. ‘Don’t worry. It’ll do. Your lights look lovely by the way,’ he called back as he reached the gate.

‘Thank you,’ Dolly called after him. ‘That timer must be on the blink,’ she said to me. ‘They shouldn’t still be on, but then it’s so dark today they do offer a little cheer, don’t you think?’

‘Definitely,’ I agreed. ‘You’ll have to get Beamish to check the setting though. What do you think these are? Early presents to go with your early decorations?’