He hardened his heart and took a stand. The prospect of a week to spend as he wanted without much on the schedule felt great. He could hint to Emelie that she was welcome to spend a few days with her Italian boyfriend Bruno and he’d have his home to himself and Josie. And Maria. ‘Our agreement,’ Nico reminded Tilly gently, ‘is that your paid annual leave will sometimes have to fit in with that of your employer. As it happens, there’s nothing about me giving you notice of that.’

Red-faced, Tilly struggled back into her coat and left without a word.

Nico went upstairs to tell Emelie. ‘So you’re free to take extra boyfriend time and a break from childcare.’

Her face lit up. ‘Really? Glad you’re giving yourself some real time off. How did Tilly take the news?’

He couldn’t help a sheepish grin. ‘Like a sore loser.’

Emelie tossed her hair as she began ramming things into a backpack. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with her lately. Surely she doesn’t think a neglected hedge takes precedence over a neglected kid?’

‘I agree but good nannies are hard to find,’ he said diplomatically.

Emelie rolled her eyes and hugged him goodbye.

When it was time to leave for school, he wrangled a squirming Maria into the buggy, ignoring her protests of ‘No! Walk!’ and they made their way past Georgian sash-windowed three-storey houses like theirs with big rooms and narrow gardens. Josie paused to converse with a ginger cat on a garden wall, then they strolled around the corner to Barrack Road.

Josie’s steps slowed. The wet-cement feeling in Nico’s stomach returned and though he kept up a flow of easy conversation to distract her, when the bell sounded he followed Josie to where Mrs Calcashaw waited at the door to see her class inside. ‘I’m Josie’s dad,’ he reminded her pleasantly. ‘I’d like another word about how Josie’s settling down, please.’

Mrs Calcashaw was no ogre but she wasn’t a smiley-smiley teacher either. Her face wore lines of resignation and her clothes were as tired as her eyes. ‘Of course. We can set up a meeting.’

‘The way the schools have been amalgamated hasn’t worked for Josie,’ Nico persisted as children began to stream past and Mrs Calcashaw kept most of her attention on them.

‘If it’s a matter of school policy, you could always see the head, Mrs Watts,’ she suggested pleasantly.

He nodded, understanding that her job at that moment was to attend to an entire class full of eight-year-olds not one parent without an appointment. ‘OK. I’ll go round to reception. I’ll pick you up later, Josie.’

Josie sighed, ‘OK,’ then kissed Nico and Maria goodbye and followed the others, Maria calling, ‘Bah-bye, Yozee!’