Christmas Day
The heap of gifts stacked under the tree is bright with coloured wrap and ribbons. James waves an arm down at the stack. "You're closest, Michael. You're in charge."
Michael takes a small gilt-wrapped package from the top, checks the label then offers it out to Beth. "For you."
Beth peels off foil and ribbons to reveal what is very obviously, a perfume bottle. She opens it, then smiles brightly at Richard. "It's lovely, thank you. The old one has almost run out."
Michael is already reading the label on another gaudy parcel, bulky and soft, in the kind of economy wrapping paper you might find in a supermarket or newsagent. "This one's for you, James."
He accepts it, raising brows and looking to Charlotte, but she shakes her head. "It's not from me."
He turns over the tag
