It was here, in this very spot, that I met him last year. I was taking a cigarette break in between tooth-collecting stops, admiring the view of the town below.

            Only one house was close enough to see inside – log fire burning, Christmas tree aglow, presents piled beneath it. A couple clinked wine glasses on a squishy sofa.

‘Cheers!’ I muttered, raising my cigarette aloft. I had my own present haul in a bag beside me. I’d only taken a few gifts from the children’s stockings while I grabbed their teeth. I called it a Christmas Eve bonus, although it was mostly tat.