Christmas Day had a routine. Mass at six—the only time of the year they ever went to church at all—and then back to bed until ten, when Mamma would start bullying them out of bed and into the living room for breakfast, presents, and family time. Which for Mamma meant paying attention to everyone in turn, and being petted and hugged and generally made a fuss of for half an hour or so before she moved on to the next victim. If she paid more attention to Luca this time than usual, nobody mentioned it, and Luca indulged her a bit more than he had the last couple of years.
When he was little, Mamma’s affirmations had been nice. It wasn’t easy to get some attention in this family—too many people milling around all the time—so when he was small, it had been Luca’s favourite thing about Christmas
