He couldn’t let the house become any more of a pigsty and if he didn’t get those dishes washed, mould would start growing on them. He’d already found an abandoned teacup with fuzzy blue stuff inside. After fixing Bella’s gate and their game of football on the green, Freddie could chill with his iPad while Nick cleaned the entire house from top to bottom. Something had to change, and he couldn’t keep waiting for it to magically happen on its own. After all, he was going to have to work extra hard to make this Christmas a pleasant one for his son.

Nick had already asked his parents what they were doing, wondering if they could all spend the day together, but they were off to their fancy hotel in Witchbury, so he and Freddie would be at home alone. Given that it was going to take more than just one afternoon’s cleaning to make up for the last six months of falling below par, it was time to get started. He owed his son that much.

Chapter 5

Wednesday morning staff meetings weren’t always the most fun as they discussed budgets – or the lack thereof – and covering for holidays, but they always perked up when they got to the little projects and clubs the teachers themselves were running. This morning’s meeting had been a bit livelier than other ones as Mr Osbourne questioned Mrs Brody’s lyrics in one of the songs in the Christmas play.

‘You simply can’t rhyme “Christmas” with “simple maths”,’ he moaned.

‘Why not?’ asked Mrs Brody, feathers clearly ruffled. ‘It works perfectly in the song.’

‘And that’s a point too.’ Mr Osbourne’s tiny moustache, which made him look like he wasn’t really safe to be around children, ruffled. Mrs White had made repeated efforts to get him to remove it, including reverse psychology and subtle hinting, but as yet, none had been successful. ‘Do you think the children should be exposed to ‘Poker Face’ by Lady Gaga?’

‘They’re not going to hear her lyrics, are they?’ Johnny sang the ‘ma, ma, ma’ bit and Mrs Brody glared at him. ‘They’re going to hear mine. Look, let me find it on my phone and I’ll sing it for you—’

At this Mrs White stepped in, checking her watch with such obviousness she looked like one of the drama club kids. ‘That won’t be necessary, Mrs Brody. And, Mr Osbourne, thank you for your concern, but I can assure you that Mrs Brody has a wealth of experience in these matters, and I trust her implicitly to consider what’s appropriate for the children. Your concern is noted though and it does you credit. Has anyone got anything else?’

Mr Osbourne mumbled something about rhyming ‘gingerbread’ with ‘sums in your head’, which Bella thought was quite clever, and folded his arms over his chest.