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She ripped open the candy-cane striped paper, revealing the back of a CD case; it featured imagery of tall fir trees against a starry sky, no track listings. Confused, she flipped it over—a male and a female smiled up at her, both dressed in gaudy Nordic clothing and carrying lutes. The title declared CIDER WITH ROSIE Odin’s Magical Spear.

“Straight from their website.” Alex beamed expectantly at Lucy. “I was worried it wouldn’t get here in time. It’s number three on the Norwegian folk charts—seriously!”

“Ahh, nice one, cheers, Lex. That’s brilliant.” Lucy adopted a trying-my-best-not-to-hurt-your-feelings smile and held the gift up for everyone to admire.

A few seconds in, Freddie broke the room’s polite silence, doubling over with laughter. “Oh God, YOUR FACE, Lucy!”

Alex and her family joined in the wave of giggles, all in on the joke.

“I’m sorry, babe! Did you really think I’d give you such a crap gift?” Alex handed her a bendy rectangle covered in reindeer paper.

Lucy’s mouth fell open in relief. “I was gonna say—you don’t even know me.”

She removed the wrap in one go, smiling widely. A Watchmen graphic novel greeted her. “Now that’s better. I’ve always wanted to read this one, and I forgot to buy it at the con. Cheers, Lex!”

“Look inside…” said Alex.

Her friend cocked her head to the side and opened the cover. A pamphlet from the University of the Arts London slipped onto her lap.

“What…the…?” Lucy clutched the pamphlet.

“Your gran was so proud when you got accepted into their animation program, and I know it broke your heart to drop out. Lucy, you’re really talented, so I signed you up for three nights of cartooning fundamentals, to dip your toe back in.”

Lucy’s eyes glowed with tears, her hand clapped over her heart. “I can’t believe you did this for me. No one’s ever done something like…” She leapt into a hug with Alex.

“You and Freddie mean the world to me. I wouldn’t have lasted here five minutes without you. It’s my way of thanking you guys—for everything. I’ve never had friends who meant so much to me—I love you both…” Happy tears welled up in Alex’s eyes.

Freddie squeezed his way into the hug. “Who says family’s only connected by blood, eh?”

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my panic attacks have faded. You two, you’re my safety net.” Alex smiled into Freddie’s shoulder.

Michael put his arm around Helen. “I don’t worry so much about Alex, knowing she has these two around.”

“Ah, it’s not a proper Christmas without a bawl. Even the Carpenters are getting to me.” Joan waved her hands by her face. “I blame the drink. Can’t get too sauced before the turkey.”

She finished her lager and sailed her fingers along the smooth, cool silk of the scarf from Alex. “It’s beautiful, love. I just wish you wouldn’t spend your hard-earned money on me.”

“If I can’t spend it on you guys, who would I spend it on?” Alex wiped away a lingering tear. “The extra cater-waiter hours helped. I only dipped into my laptop fund a little bit. It was more important to give special presents to everyone—this year of all years.”

“As much as I love the scarf, the play’s the best gift you could’ve given me. Oh, Alex, I can’t wait to read it after dinner. Me, back on stage, who’d have thought?” Joan beamed, flipping through the pages. “You’re so busy with your job and writing for the workshop. How you ever found time to write about silly old me, well, I’m gobsmacked, love.”

“My plan was to give you the finished piece, but Olivia’s coffee had other ideas.” She frowned. “At least the first draft is better than nothing.”

“If that’s what your first drafts look like, you’re even more talented than I thought.” Joan waved her son over. “Michael, can you give my gift to Alex?”

He handed his daughter the last present lying under the tree, its box wrapped in Christmassy Paddington Bears and crowned with a red foil bow. “Let me guess. A coffee table book about Sherlock? Doctor Who? You’re easy to buy for,” he said.

Alex chewed another Bounty. “You mean predictable, Dad.”

She tilted the box to her ear and shook it. “Is this one of your pottery masterpieces, Joan?”

Her grandmother zipped her lips. “I’ll never tell, but it’s fragile so…”

Alex picked apart the tape, preserving a section of paper Paddingtons for safekeeping.

A white box with a familiar logo stole her breath. “Oh…my God…” Her mouth gaped open as the last shred of wrapping gave way, a tremble travelling to the tips of her fingers.

Lucy set down her pamphlet and leaned into Alex. “Now that’s a gift. Take a bow, Joan.”