Mrs Watts’s expression was sympathetic enough but she didn’t budge. ‘We’re not under that obligation, Mr Pettersson. Once the building at St Kits became an issue we had to make prompt decisions with a view to the smooth running of the school. I’m afraid if I let one parent choose a class for his child then it would open the floodgates of other parents wanting the same privilege, perhaps several times in each school year. Josie will soon be caught up in the whirl of Christmas,’ she added bracingly.

He refused to be braced. ‘She’s unhappy as a result of your decisions. I’ll put my concerns in writing to the governors.’

‘Out buggy, Mydad!’ Maria shouted.

Mrs Watts looked pained but repeated that the decision had been made and Josie would soon settle down.

Frustrated, but inwardly conceding that Mrs Watts had a point about parents choosing classes, Nico tickled Maria and said, ‘OK, kid. We’ll soon be home,’ shook Mrs Watts’s hand and went back to make the beds. Maria industriously patted duvets and shook pillows alongside him.

Then he lounged on the floor and listened to music while helping make towers out of Jenga bricks. Even when Maria bellowed, ‘One, two!’ and kicked each tower down it was easy work compared to his usual Monday morning madness and his applause made Maria’s round face glow.

He didn’t check his inbox or his team WhatsApp.

Instead, he set himself to returning the child latches he used to have for Josie to the lower kitchen cupboards. Maria crouched to watch, trying to grab his screwdriver. He gave her a plastic spoon to pretend with.

When she napped after lunch he continued to ignore his inbox and took a nap as well. It felt amazing. Then he wrote the promised letter to the chair of the governors without much hope of a positive response. Mrs Watts had deflected him effortlessly. It was obviously not her first rodeo.

He checked Facebook and saw Hannah had replied to his comment about dinner. Then champagne at the wedding at least. And an emoji of clinking champagne flutes.

He replied: That’s a cheat because it’s a wedding. Champagne obligatory. It was ages since he’d had time to do something as normal as exchange such inconsequential banter.

Before he knew it Maria was awake again and coming backwards downstairs, calling, ‘Yozee? Mydad?’ and it was time to fetch Josie from school. He began to think this week off, enforced or not, was what he needed.

Chapter Six

It was the Thursday before the wedding. Hannah looked at Albin in his slim-fit black, citified overcoat. ‘So you haven’t had a last-minute change of heart and decided to come to the wedding?’ she joked. Half-joked.