‘You should have asked for identification,’ Ned further grumbled.

‘I did,’ I said, ‘but the guy collecting the Stott tree wasn’t a Stott so it made no difference because his last name wasn’t the same.’

‘The trees are only supposed to be released to family members or someone they’ve named on the release form,’ he persisted.

‘Well, no one told me that, did they?’ I pointed out.

‘And anyway,’ said David, looking briefly at me. ‘I signed the release form. I took care of them all today and I’ve just had another look at it and there was a note saying another family member was coming to collect the tree. I missed it earlier.’

I didn’t mention that, strictly speaking, the guy wasn’t yet a family member.

‘Yes,’ said Maya, looking thoughtful. ‘Now you mention it, David, I think I took that call sometime last week.’

‘Why didn’t you mention that before, Dad?’ Ned tutted.

‘Because you didn’t give me a chance,’ David fairly pointed out.

Ned let out a long breath. He looked exhausted and we still had days to go before the end of the delivery service. I had been going to mention that I had been distracted about Wren too, but then decided not to. There was no point going over it all again and, as I still hadn’t had word from Theo, I decided it was best left until I knew what had gone on.

True to her word, Maya arrived early the next morning in a huge truck and with a picnic basket tucked into the footwell.

‘I thought we’d make the most of the trip,’ she giggled as I scrabbled to climb into the cab after we’d manhandled the Stotts’ tree and secured it in the back. ‘Do you want a hand?’ she asked, thankfully with no derision.

‘No,’ I said, as I finally got a foothold and heaved myself up, ‘but thanks.’

I hadn’t slept particularly well and there was still no word from Theo or Sue. I really hoped everything was all right. Maya hadn’t mentioned anything about it either and I didn’t have the heart to fill her in on what had occurred the day before. I knew I could have messaged Sue to ask, but couldn’t bring myself to, for fear that she’d only have sad news to impart.

‘Right,’ Maya happily said. ‘Let’s go!’

The Stott residence was the perfect match for Mr Stott’s voice – upper class and imposing – and the switch was soon smoothly made. He hadn’t allowed the Scott tree to cross the Edwardian threshold, so Maya expertly manoeuvred Doris on to the sack wheels and between us we wheeled her back down the drive and then up the ramp and safely into the truck.

‘Thank goodness you had a vehicle with a ramp,’ I puffed. ‘We never would have lifted either of these.’