Ben and Nate, so I thought I’d call over and thank you all properly for today.’

I’m glad, of course, that Dan is home. I’m glad he is sleeping, curled up on the sofa with his dad nearby. But I wish he was here, I really, really do, even if it’s just to say goodbye.

‘I’m sorry you’re leaving,’ Karen is saying. ‘I know, Jozef, how hard it is to keep a business afloat at a time like this. I know that you don’t really want to go back to Krakow, and I had an idea –’

‘An idea?’ Dad frowns.

‘Klaudia, you could come to work at the cafe!’ Karen suggests. ‘You could help me make designer cakes for birthdays and weddings! I couldn’t pay as much as the hotel, but we could build the business together…’

Mum’s eyes shine. ‘We’re a good team,’ she says.

Dad clears his throat. ‘Karen, it’s a wonderful offer,’ he says. ‘But it’s not enough. We’ve lost everything, there’s nothing left. I’ve spoken to my old boss in Krakow, and he will find a place for me in the team, even after all this time. I have to take it.’

‘Jozef was a joiner,’ Mum explains. ‘A real craftsman.’

‘I can see that from the szopka castle,’ Karen nods. ‘There was an old bloke in the cafe this afternoon, asking about that…’

‘Really?’ Dad asks, surprised. ‘Still, I could never sell it, it’s special to our family. Now… let’s put all of that aside, yes? It’s Christmas Eve! I for one would like a slice of this wonderful chocolate cake…’

The party breaks up after ten. There are hugs and Happy Christmas wishes and then, as soon as they appeared, our visitors are gone.

‘We have more friends here than we know,’ Mum says, her eyes soft and misty. ‘So kind, so unexpected…’

‘It will be hard to leave these good people,’ Dad agrees. ‘But I don’t see any other way.’

And the doorbell rings again.

Mum looks at the table, a wasteground of empty bowls and dishes, with barely a crumb of food left. ‘There’s nothing left to offer!’ she panics. Dad puts an arm round her, and I move to clear the dishes, so it’s Kazia who walks over and opens the door.

‘Oh!’ she says. ‘It’s you! I thought you’d never get here!’ She leads an elderly man with a bushy white beard into the room.

‘You see?’ Kazia is saying. ‘I told you he’d come! It’s Santa! He’ll fix everything!’

Dad steps forward, frowning. ‘Sorry… have we met?’

The old man smiles, and I realize he does look familiar – he’s the old guy Kazia mistook for Santa in the cafe earlier.

‘Not yet,’ he says to Dad. ‘I have met your charming daughter before, though I didn’t realize… down at the grotto in town…’ He drops his voice to a whisper, so that Kazia can’t hear. ‘Their regular Santa had a flu bug, and I stepped in at the last minute as a favour to a friend.’

I blink. It is Santa – or the closest we’re going to get, anyhow. The old man from the cafe and the fat old guy in the red suit surrounded by grumpy elves… they’re one and the same. Kazia isn’t as crazy as I thought.

‘See?’ she’s saying. ‘See?’

‘I know it’s Christmas Eve,’ the man goes on. ‘I do apologize. I planned to wait until after the celebrations, but I’m not a patient man. It’s hard to be patient, at my age. I couldn’t resist coming along, just to see you, just to ask…’

‘See who?’ Dad says. ‘I think there must be some mistake…’

‘No mistake,’ the old man says, his eyes drifting to the window where the castle twinkles and shines. ‘I am looking for the man who created that! I enquired in the cafe this afternoon – I saw your wonderful szopka castle in the window. I’ve never seen one in this country before. I asked at the counter, and the lovely lady explained who you were, told me where you lived…’

‘Ah,’ Dad says. ‘Karen mentioned that. I’m sorry, it’s been a wasted journey, the castle is not for sale…’

‘No, no…’ The old man strokes his beard, peering at the szopka. ‘I don’t want to buy it. I was wondering if you have any others, if making things… toys, decorations… is something that may perhaps interest you?’

Kazia takes the old man’s hand, leads him across to the dolls’ house. ‘Ah… I see… wonderful! The quality of the painting!’

‘It’s just a hobby,’ Dad explains.

‘Jozef loves to make things,’ Mum chips in. ‘There