‘He is,’ said David. ‘In the usual spot in the corner of the barn. And he’ll be here every time the huts are open too. Even though the school-aged children won’t be here during the week, the little ones might be and Ned’s arranged a visit from the local mother and toddler group and the playgroup, haven’t you?’

‘Yes,’ said Ned, distractedly running his hands through his hair. ‘I must have been mad. We’re never going to keep on top of it all.’

Bandit threw me a concerned look.

‘Of course, you will,’ I stoically said. ‘It’s bound to be busy though and this first extended open season will be a steep learning curve, but I’ve no doubt you’ll handle it and I’m here.’ I added. ‘I’ll carry on helping where I can.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Ned said, looking marginally calmer.

‘Of course, I am,’ I told him. ‘And if it does prove to be a bit too much, you’ll just have to draft in some extra help for a few weeks.’

There were already a couple of volunteers milling about wearing tinsel enhanced high-vis jackets to help with the parking so I knew Ned wasn’t going to be short of extra help if he really did get stuck.

‘I do have someone who helps on the farm when it gets busy,’ Ned told me, ‘and I suppose the huts will be the responsibility of the business owner’s, won’t they?’

‘Exactly,’ I said.

‘I just want everything to be perfect.’

‘Perfection is an illusion,’ said David, paraphrasing Charlie Mackesy. ‘If you’re expecting perfection, then you’re going to be disappointed, son. Far better to enjoy the good bits and deal with the odd blip as it happens.’

There was a brisk knock on the door and then a belly appeared, held in by a shiny buckled belt. A rosy cheeked face came next, surrounded by a haze of white hair and a slightly unkempt beard.

‘There’s quite a crowd gathering,’ beamed the guy who could only be Nick.

I couldn’t rein in the smile which spread across my face. His voice was so deep I had no doubt that his laugh would be wonderful.

‘Thanks, Nick,’ said David. ‘We’re coming now.’

He tottered off to take up his station in the screened off corner of the barn which had always served as a grotto. It had its own tree and electric woodburning stove, and was softly lit, with festive music playing, to add to the magical ambience. The memory of it almost tempted me to go and pay a visit myself.

Ned and David stood up and I clipped Bandit’s lead to his collar, just in case he got a bit too excited.

‘Where did you find the cushion for Santa’s belly?’ I quietly asked David.

Father and son looked at each other and grinned.