Laurel had to acknowledge that as a real danger, the car being positioned just after a curve. Then she saw Daisy had her phone out and was discreetly training her camera on the hapless Mac. ‘Cut that out,’ she said sharply. ‘I mean it, Daisy. I don’t care if he’s your head of year and he gives you detention. It’s never right to pass images like that around, ever.’

‘I was only going to send it to Niall.’ Daisy grinned as she lowered the hand that was holding the phone.

‘Stay in the car, please,’ Laurel began.

But she wasn’t fast enough to prevent Daisy springing out of the vehicle with a cheerful, ‘Hello, Grady! Evening, Mr Cassidy.’

‘Shit,’ Laurel muttered, scrambling out and yanking up her hood against the freezing air. She didn’t catch any reply Mac might have made to Daisy as she hurried to open her boot and search out her Leatherman multi-tool, kept for when she was out painting and needed to hack her way into gummed up paint tubes. Nor did she enquire why Mac had been pantsed and not Grady. It was probably the same as it had always been: Grady made friends and Mac made enemies. Keeping her distance from Mac, she opened the device to the spring-loaded scissors and offered it to Grady.

Relief flashed over his face as he took the tool. ‘Thanks.’ His mouth relaxed into a sudden smile. ‘You’re a life saver.’

Laurel nodded and Grady reached around Mac to free him with a couple of well-placed snips. ‘Thanks.’ Mac nodded in Laurel’s direction but focused on simultaneously rubbing his wrists and keeping a grip on the coat clutched around his waist. Neither man showed any sign of recognising her.

Daisy opened the back door of Laurel’s car and stuck her top half inside, emerging seconds later with an air of triumph. ‘Here you are, Mr Cassidy. I bought these for when I help at the Year Seven party but you can have them.’ She beamed angelically at Mac as she proffered the scarlet trousers of the Santa suit, complete with copious white fluff around the ankles.

‘Oh. Erm, thanks, Daisy,’ Mac muttered gruffly.

He took the folded red felt with such a ludicrous expression of dismay that an insane urge to giggle ballooned inside Laurel. Voice quivering, she said, ‘Daisy, let’s get back in the car and give Mr Cassidy a moment.’

Mac mumbled a sheepish ‘thanks,’ but Grady cut across him, peering into the depths of Laurel’s hood as if trying to read her expression. ‘Erm … I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but you’re not going to drive off and leave us, are you?’