Dinner-time, end of May. I place a beautiful red box on the table tied up with a bow. A present for everyone. The kids come into the kitchen and take a seat. “What’s this Mum?” they ask. “Is it a box of chocolates?” But Frankie looks over at Clare: “Where have I seen a box on the dinner table before?! Clare, I think we’ve seen a few scenes like this before… Is it possible?!” I try to look serious. “No, it’s not chocolates. It’s a Christmas present:” “Christmas?”. Now curiosity is raging. “Sara will be the one who has the(…)

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