I don’t know about you, but I plan to spend Christmas pinned to the sofa by a 15 tog duvet, watching through the family’s boxset of Poirot mysteries. The duvet alone won’t be sufficient, and like a modern day Giles Corey, I’ll cry “More weight!” at a nearby sibling until they crush me with extra blankets. Only one arm will be free from the blanket stricture. This is for operating the remote, reaching for selection box chocolates, and petting the dog. After all, nothing says cosy like ensconcing yourself before a grisly murder at a country house.
Which is of course why The Seance Of Blake Manor is just as apt a recommendation today as it would have been when it was released at Halloween.
