Confiteor: I rather enjoyed Christmas 2020. Having agreed with my parents that, in the context of a global pandemic, driving to Wales and back in a day with a teetotal lunch in between was no-one’s idea of fun, I stayed put in Oxford. After a comfortably early Vigil Mass, at which I was both organist and permitted cantor, I spent the next morning ringing around various friends and relations before getting on with the festivities in the beaming company of a few stranded students. 

It was the first time that I had ever been in charge of Christmas lunch, and it suited me just fine. Boarding school put me off turkey for life, so we had roast beef; brussels sprouts were banished, because they are of the Devil. My recipe for success involved no firm timings, and therefore no pressure to perform; when it became clear that the meal was going to be late to the table, we just opened another bottle of champagne.