I wasn’t at all upset that I wouldn’t be seeing his wife, Kim, again and helped Maya guide the tree, which was nowhere near as large as the Stotts’, and relatively easy to carry, into the house.

‘You know,’ said Andrew, once we’d put Doris in place as per Kim’s most particular instructions, ‘I’m not sure that’s right.’

‘Me neither,’ said Maya, winking at me and playing devil’s advocate. ‘Surely she’d look better the other side of the fire.’

The fire in question was an electric wood burning stove, so Doris wouldn’t come to any harm if she were pulled a little closer to the faux flames.

‘I think you’re right,’ said Andrew scratching his head. ‘She usually fits there a treat but the bit extra she’s grown this year makes her look a bit cramped, don’t you think?’

‘I do,’ I agreed, because it had been a bit of a squeeze to get her in.

‘If we lift her up, could you,’ he said, nodding to me, ‘shift the tray across?’

I loved that Doris had her own bespoke tray to sit in and which collected any loose earth or water which would otherwise have ruined the carpet.

‘Absolutely,’ I said, suiting the action to the words.

‘There,’ said Maya, as they put her down again, ‘much better and I’m sure your wife will agree.’

‘That’s definitely a better spot,’ Andrew said, biting his lip, ‘but I’m not sure if Kim…’

‘Right,’ I briskly said, handing him a copy of the same care sheet I’d given Mr Stott, ‘we’d better get on. We’ve lots to do back at Wynter’s Trees.’

‘Of course,’ said Andrew, who was looking a little doubtful about not following his wife’s instructions to the letter. ‘Can I offer you a drink before you go? I’d just boiled the kettle when you arrived.’

‘Thank you, but no,’ I said, following Maya out. ‘We really must be going. Merry Christmas!’

‘Merry Christmas!’ he called after us.

As Maya carefully inched the truck back between the cars, we could see him through the window, striding about, looking at Doris from one angle and then another.

‘I feel a bit bad now,’ giggled Maya, as we drove off. ‘She’s going to give him hell for deviating from the plan.’

She didn’t sound particularly sorry and I couldn’t help but laugh along with her.

‘She will, won’t she?’ I smiled.