CAROLS ROUND THE PIANO

I was munching a mince pie on the only available chair, right next to the Christmas tree. The branches were tickling my shoulder and there was a Death Star bauble next to my ear, like a misplaced Star Wars earring.

There was lots going on around me. Some cool, tall people in Christmas jumpers were swilling mulled wine in hot glasses and chatting about a TV show I've never seen. The room was full of people who seemed to know each other, and were apparently having a great time. They'd certainly sung along with gusto to the other Matt's carol-playing.

This keeps happening to me. I wish I were a bit more gregarious; I float around rooms like Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense. The truth was that the only people I knew had invited me, and they were busy being hosts to twenty two of their friends, and poking bits of orange into a gigantic saucepan.

"Charge your glasses, ladies and gentlemen!" cried somebody, trying to evoke the spirit of Fezziwig, "It's time for round two!"

I slalomed my way through the jumpers and sparklers, and found myself stuck by the piano.

"Your turn then, Matt! Do you know In The Bleak Midwinter?" said the host.

Perhaps not so invisible then.