Late one November evening, the telephone rang at Joan’s home in Kirriemuir. It was her sister Lizzie, in Lenzie.

‘Hi Joan. Lizzie here. You’ll remember it’s our turn to invite you and Ian over for Christmas dinner with Dad. Well, I’ve an idea.’

‘Don’t tell me its going to be Boxing Day instead?’

‘No. December 25^th Christmas Day as usual, but with a challenge. You see it’s been our tradition to arrive at each others’ home for a late morning coffee and we don’t eat till 6p.m. It makes it a long day. Well with Dad getting older these days, I think he’ll probably have an afternoon nap. And of course, it’s no secret that Ian and Sandy don’t always see eye to eye on politics or football so, what I have in mind is reaching an agreement that between the hours of 2 and 5 p.m. Ian and Sandy make themselves scarce. They can do what they like between these hours but they are not allowed in the house. When they return they must bring some sort of evidence to show what they’ve been up to! Sandy is up for it. What do you think about this suggestion and do you think Ian will be a sport?’

Joan rang back two days later indicating the deal was on.

Over the following three weeks Ian and Sandy planned their three hours of freedom. Not a hint of their plans emerged except occasionally a false trail was planted about ‘finding a bar open’ or ‘looking up old girl-friends’.

Christmas day dawned frosty and they congregated in Lenzie to share Christmas presents over morning coffee. Ian was delighted to receive a hand shredder indicating he would be able to shred all his old bank statements while Joan smiled at the thought of shredding expensive shopping receipts. Dad was pleased with his boxed handkerchiefs and bottle of single malt whisky. ‘One way or another’, he declared, ‘I’m well prepared for a winter cold!’

As the clock approached 2p.m., Sandy and Ian left the comfort of the festive home. The sisters looked through the lounge window and saw them part at the road junction. For a brief moment Lizzie wondered if she had done right in organising this bizarre game. Would it cause ill feeling she wondered. Just how angry might they be on their return?

Light faded shortly after 3.30p.m. By then Dad was indeed in the land of slumber while Lizzie and Joan got to terms with the turkey and trimming preparations. The crackers were placed at the table settings by 5.30p.m. The sisters sat down near the Christmas tree to reflect on their hours of hard work.

At precisely 6p.m, Ian arrived back. He took off his coat and warmed himself by the open fire. Lizzie brought him a sherry. Before he had enjoyed a second sip, Sandy arrived. As Ian had arrived first, he was asked to explain his hours of Christmas freedom.

‘I’m no wise man but I thought it’s the unexpected gift that is always appreciated and that got me thinking. I went to the library at the end of November and I read up about performing magic. I took three books on the subject home and practised until I was getting the illusions to appear convincing. Then I thought I needed an audience. So I contacted the local nursing home and asked if I could perform on Christmas afternoon. I asked Madge Harvie, the matron, to confirm I had performed at the home. Here’s her letter and I promise to show you a trick or two after our Christmas dinner.’

A round of applause filled the air then Ian handed the floor over to Sandy. Strangely he went to the table and began resetting the places. Without a word he brought four more chairs to the table adding four more crackers. ‘You see we are having four guests to join us. I have been with them all afternoon. A taxi will arrive shortly. Sam and his wife Grace will be joining us with their children Mary and Comfort. You have not met them before. They have fled the murderous regime of Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe and have sought asylum here in Glasgow. I’ve brought extra presents. Let’s make it a very special evening for them. ’

Tears filled Lizzie’s eyes. ‘Oh Sandy darling, bless you, how wonderful. And Ian, your audience is growing!’