I never believed in Santa Claus. It was a story I was told, but I got told lots of stories, and I didn't realise some kids took Santa Claus any more seriously than the others.

Obviously, the stuff had to be put there by my parents; who else was in a position to?

So basically, a pillow case got hung on a door handle by my bed on Christmas Eve and in the morning it contained some bits and pieces too small to count as main presents. Normally, including a stash of sweet and savoury snacks the rate of consumption of which wouldn't be policed.