Bridge found it hard to imagine jazz-voiced Pax shouting at anyone. ‘Does Kes have a nut allergy?’

‘Only if they have broccoli attached.’ Pax was looking out of the window. Following her gaze, Bridge saw the blond, bearded Horsemaker – a tousle-haired Zeus – now out of the little car, pacing around impatiently.

She was dying to know what was going on there. Just wait until the Bags heard about it.

‘Won’t keep you much longer,’ she promised, typing the stud’s address again in the Emergency Contact section. ‘It’s a beautiful place you have there; I’ve always admired it from a distance.’ Lay it on, Bridge. ‘It must be amazing inside.’

‘Come over and I’ll show you around if you like,’ Pax offered obligingly.

‘I might just take you up on that!’ That would put Petra’s nose thoroughly out of joint, she thought, saving the file and locating the printer which was spewing out hard copies. ‘That’s us done if you’ll just sign it here. I’m free to come to yours any time.’

‘Perhaps you could bring along the friend and her boy who’s in Reception?’ Pax suggested, signing with an exaggerated, swirly P and F. ‘One afternoon next week after pickup if you like? It would be lovely for Kes to meet one of his classmates before he tries a day here.’ She stood up and shrugged on her coat.

‘It’s a date! I’ll walk you to your car.’ On a roll and now hopeful of an introduction to the Horsemaker. Today was turning out to be vintage.

‘Don’t come out in the cold.’ Pax turned with a firm handshake in the little front reception. ‘Thank you, Mesmazur. You live up to your magical name.’

Glowing happily, lip throbbing gently, Bridge bounded back upstairs to write her own contract, texting Aleš first, Got the job! He replied instantly with a row of smiley faces and aubergines.

*

Pax felt supercharged, zinging with strong coffee and rare high spirits. Today’s ‘I’m free’ headrush was hardcore, wired to the mains, Luca yet again uncomfortably close witness to it.

‘I’m probably completely mad,’ she laughed as they set off. ‘I think the Head has early onset dementia, the new secretary’s plans for world domination start with the filing cabinet, and the children are all feral, but it feels right.’

‘Where am I going?’ He was driving too fast, eager to get on.

Pax longed to send him back to the stud but couldn’t face the fight. She might not yet be legal to drive. She probably wasn’t in the best state to make life-changing decisions for her son or face her in-laws either, but she was too ebullient to care. ‘Follow the signs to Broadbourne. I’ll text to make sure they’re back.’ She started to type the message, adding, ‘I’m really so grateful for this.’

‘The place certainly cheered you up.’

The soft voice had a sanctimonious edge she let pass, unable to contain her enthusiasm. ‘That little school, for all its chaos, is just the sort of positive environment Kes needs. The schools I went to were just like the one he hates, and I hated them too, especially when we got older and were sent away to board. I was always bullied: about my mother, my hair, my deep voice, my big feet, you name it. I was miles from home and lonely, and I loathed all the one-upmanship and toadying. I remember swearing that my own children would be state educated, but when it came to Kes, Mack overruled me and my grandfather backed him up.’