Something was missing in Dartmoor

The snow was softly falling around our thatched cottage on Dartmoor, making a picture-perfect scene for my first Christmas as a married woman back in 2000.

With open fires and champagne on ice, our guests enjoyed a gourmet meal then played games – it seemed an idyllic Christmas.

But something was missing.

And as the day ended, I realised what was wrong. There were no ‘waifs and strays’ joining us round the fireplace…

As a child, my parents had always invited visitors who would otherwise be on their own. I knew my parents were trying to do good, but I yearned for a ‘normal’ Christmas with just our family.

One of our regular visitors was a grumpy neighbour whose contribution to the feast would be a melon past its sell-by date.

Then there was the gentleman who, despite owning several shops, brought stingy presents, including a clip-on tie for my father.

So although I’d resented the visitors as a child, I now realised I wanted to recreate the ‘open house’ celebration that my parents had embraced.

The following Christmas we gathered our own group of ‘waifs and strays’, including my mother’s 91-year-old acquaintance who flirted with every male in the room.

But it was wonderful. And I knew this was a tradition we’d be continuing. Last year, as we laid the table, my 13-year-old son Christopher sighed and asked, ‘Do we have to have all these people round, Mum?’

‘Yes, we do,’ I replied. It may sound crazy – but I couldn’t think of spending Christmas any other way.

✿ Rachel Trethewey’s Pearls before Poppies: the story of the red Cross Pearls, and Before Wallis: Edward Viii’s Other Women, published by The History Press, are out now

‘I wanted to recreate the “open house” my parents had embraced’