All that glitters is not gold at Christmas

EXPECTATION is partly what Christmas is all about.

- Martin Hesp

The buildup and excitement... Whether it's a small child yearning to unwrap that present or an older person reflecting upon the magic of a distant manger and three wise men, the essence and promise of our midwinter celebration casts a pinpoint of light into the all-embracing darkness of December.For many millions, the sound of Christmas echoes through shopping-mall speakers that pump festive renditions into the scented Halls of Mammon. So many crooners from Bing Crosby to Mariah Carey, from Dean Martin to Michael Bublé seem to have produced one. My least favourite is Noddy Holder's Merry Xmas Everybody. But then, I never did like Slade.

That's my opinion. Which can't amount to much because, for me, the sound that heralds the promise of Christmas is the unique sticky rubber noise a bicycle tyre makes when it is being wheeled across linoleum.

That is thanks to a story once told to me by an old friend who has long since gone to that great darkroom in the sky. By which I mean, an eccentric old photographer who happened to be one of the best storytellers I ever knew. Randolph (that really was his name, for which he blamed his horrible father) was so good at capturing the atmosphere and detailed nuance of a tale, that even when I retold his story to friends in a pub this week, half-a-century after I first heard it, my eyes filled with tears.