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Will holds up his lantern, and Horse pulls a head torch from his pocket and puts it on him.

‘This is where we have the Nordmann firs,’ says Will, as we file through the gate and follow him into the trees. ‘A lovely shape on them and long-lasting needles, so they don’t drop them so much, but not as much smell as a Norway spruce.’ We smile as Will continues to explain about the different varieties of trees we have here on the farm, how they differ and, of course, the ones that are his particular favourites.

We keep walking, listening to the sound of crunching twigs and wood chippings underfoot as the frost starts to creep through the forest.

‘How long have you been here?’ Hana asks.

‘It was my late husband’s parents’ farm,’ I tell her. ‘They had been dairy farmers on this land for years, but milking was getting harder and harder. The margins got tighter and tighter until it was barely enough to live off. Paddy, my husband, had the idea of planting Christmas trees. At first they were against it, but eventually they let him have a chance at his idea. He planted his first tree right in the middle of the forest, over there.’

And as we approach the middle of the forest it gets colder, making my nose run and my eyes water a little.

We arrive at the central clearing. Horse hangs up the tea lights around the hut there, and we all look up at Paddy’s tree. The ornaments are still there, catching the light from our candles, the frost crisping their tips.

For a moment, nobody says anything.

Horse looks down at me and I look up at him. Above us the sky is clear, with thousands of stars.

‘This is beautiful,’ Hana says, turning with her phone held high.

‘Yes. It is,’ I say, and I can feel Will looking up at me too.

‘I’ll be right back,’ he whispers to me.

Then he disappears off back through the trail. And I watch him going, wondering what he’s doing. But clearly he has something in mind.

‘What are all these ornaments? Do they mean something?’ asks Hana, reaching out and touching one of them.

‘Actually,’ I take a deep breath, ‘they do. Each one of them has been put on there to remember a person we cared about, loved. A family member, or someone who made a difference in our lives.’

We stand and look at the tree.

‘My two were for the babies I lost before they were born. I like to think of them as stars in the sky now, looking down.’

Hana looks at me.

‘Do you mind if I tell people that?’ she asks softly.

‘No, I don’t mind,’ I say, finally feeling ready to talk.

‘So people can come here, place a special ornament on the tree they want for Christmas – a special ornament for someone they love? And then come and pick up the tree nearer the big day?’

‘Yes,’ I say, ‘bring your own ornament,’ warming to the idea. ‘Choose your tree, and we’ll keep it safe for you until you want to pick it up. It’s all about the memories here.’

‘That is inspired!’ says Hana. ‘I have loads of content here. Including Delilah the donkey and the dogs, of course. What you have here is really special. I love that you’re keeping it simple and making Christmas about the memories we have. That’s really something to lean into.’ She takes a step back and slowly turns around as if drinking in the atmosphere. ‘This place has a real sense of peace. It’s what Christmas should be about – love for the people we miss or ones close to us. And you’re right, it’s about the memories we want to hold on to. Things money can’t buy. I’ll do a hashtag: #RememberThisChristmas, with a heart.’

Will has reappeared. ‘You’ve got to meet Gloria, too . . . she won’t want to miss out,’ he says. He holds out a plate. ‘Would you like a mince pie?’

‘Watch out for the mince pies,’ I tell her. ‘They’ve got a bit of a spice kick!’

‘Oh yes!’ Hana says, her eyes opening with surprise as she takes a bite.

‘And don’t forget to tie a wish to the wishing tree, too,’ Will says.

‘A wish?’

‘Yes. Everyone deserves a wish at Christmas,’ he says.

I exchange a look with Horse, and this time I’m unable to stop a couple of tears from falling. Will’s right. We all deserve a dream.