Not so very far from where I grew up there was a year-round Christmas shop. No matter the season, you could go there and buy candy canes, chintzy baubles, crackers… you name it, it was there.

As we’d drive past on a baking hot summer’s day. I’d look at the fake-snow dusted windows, the dancing Santas, the plastic Christmas trees and think (internal monologue dripping with teenage snark): ‘How ridiculous.’

Well, more fool me.

An idea for a book struck me in the strange no-man’s land between Christmas and New Year. And just as we were taking the Christmas decorations I found myself starting work.

As the seasons changed from dark and cold to bright and warm, I surrounded myself with snowscapes, chestnuts roasting over open fires, novelty jumpers, and cracker jokes.

And now, as I hurtle towards publishing, I realise that I am become the Christmas shop.

This year it’s not true to say that Christmas comes earlier every year. It’s Narnia in reverse – it’s been Christmas every day!