This year, I will see Barbara smile, last year she was too small, and, in any case, I was not there. With her inimitable and charming accent, Petula Clark speaks of Christmas. Definitively Parisian, courtesy of her marriage to Claude Wolff, her manager. Petula has preserved from her native island only the accent -- and naturally also a terribly love for the traditions of a veddy British Christmas.

--Will there be pudding?
     Claude rolls his eyes. This mimicry does not escape his delicious wife.
      Yes, I know, last year it was terrible...inedible even for a palate accustomed to the English kitchen and the terrible restrictions of the war... But this year. I hope it will be better!
      Not having stayed in the United Kingdom, the English kitchen of my imagination conjurs up the kind of feast prepared for Mr. Pickwick and his friends. The aroma of a goose lovingly roasted. The question may be banal, but I can't help but ask it.

Tell me about an English Christmas.
      The only Christmas that I remember that was absolutely terrible. . .I went to Portsmouth (she says this with just a touch of a French accent) for a special festival featuring mime, which is an English tradition at Christmas.