At lunchtime, d.i.c.k was at work, Josh made calls to his office, and Jo picked up Tallulah, the ironing half-finished. Meanwhile, Vanessa was in the thick of Soho at the Groucho Club.

Members of the club sat in the bar in small, self-important groups, discussing small, self-important ideas as Max led Vanessa, Anthony, and Tom through into the restaurant beyond. Unfortunately there was no one famous in at the moment, which made everyone feel rather less impressed with themselves than they'd have liked. This particular small, self-important group sat in the corner, Vanessa facing Anthony, Max facing Tom. Because of scheduling problems with VC their big meeting had been postponed, but now it was finally time to get down to business. Vanessa was feeling slightly sh.e.l.l-shocked from a combination of lack of sleep and the terror that Jo might leave. If she went home tonight to discover aliens conducting experiments on her family, she knew her first thought would be "Don't take the nanny." And she was having one of her wretched days where she felt uncontrollable hostility toward her husband, which manifested itself in sudden rushes of anger every time she thought of him. It wasn't anything specific he'd done, it was just everything-the sight of him calmly pouring a brandy for Jo while she saw all the policemen off, the sight of him then pouring Josh a brandy while she put the children back to bed, the thought of him moaning about lack of sleep, then taking the morning off. Nothing and everything.

Anthony and Max were in high spirits, full of optimism and swaggering confidence-Max because he had all the joy of delegating every last aspect of this job to everyone else and Anthony because he was desperately trying to hide Tom's natural pessimism. He was smiling so much he was beginning to fear the onset of lockjaw.

"We're gonna knee McFarleys so hard," exclaimed Max over coffee, "their gonads are gonna shoot out of their mouths."

"What a beautiful image," said Tom. "I'll see what I can do with that."

Max laughed, and Anthony impressed them all by widening his grin further still.

"So! Guys," said Max, in a tone Anthony and Tom had been dreading all meal. He raised his elastic eyebrows high up on his ever-expanding forehead. "Any ideas?"

The best creative team in the agency stole themselves a few precious seconds by looking at each other, then looking back at Max.

"Well," said Anthony finally, "we did have a quick brainstorm before lunch. So we have got a few ideas."

Max gave Vanessa a wide grin. "See what I'm saying? Geniuses, these guys. Geniuses."

Anthony didn't feel the need to explain that the best idea they'd come with was a dwarf dressed as a telephone and the only slogan they'd come up with was "Compet.i.tion's dwarfed by VC."

"I'm getting together with the planner on Wednesday," said Vanessa, "to develop the strategy, then meeting up with VC Friday a.m. I'll brief you guys ASAP."

"When's the pitch?" asked Anthony.

"A fortnight today."

"s.h.i.t!" cried Tom. "We've only got two weeks?"

"Yup," said Max, relighting his cigar. "That's why we brought in the best."

Tom and Anthony both finished their wine.

After lunch, they all walked back to the office, Anthony naturally falling into step beside Vanessa.

"Tom's a bit tense, isn't he?" she asked after a while.

"All the better to be creative with," answered Anthony.

"You sure he's up to this?"

Anthony turned to her, and she had to move back slightly to stop b.u.mping into him. He was so short, she could look into his eyes without even tilting her head. "Vanessa."

"Hmm?"

"This is the man who created Bobby the Baboon."

They locked eyes.

"You're right," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, I understand," said Anthony. 'That's the "suits" jobs-to worry. And what a job you do. Don't know how you do it, to be honest. Rather you than me.'

They set off again, and, walking beside him, Vanessa pictured d.i.c.k saying the same to her about her contribution at home. She felt her blood start to simmer almost instantly.

"But it's our job to create," Anthony was saying. "So you just leave that to us."

She smiled a wide, relieved smile and wished she could feel so confident in her husband's abilities.

Back at the office, standing in front of Anthony in the lift, Vanessa could see him in the mirrored door collecting visual data about her body to be downloaded later. Eventually, his eyes met hers in the mirror, and he pulled a shamefaced schoolboy grin. She tutted inwardly. He must think she was born yesterday. She imagined d.i.c.k catching sight of her being ogled and smiled to herself.

The doors shut slowly behind her and Max. Finally, the boys were alone. They let out deep, grateful sighs.

"b.l.o.o.d.y suits," moaned Tom.

"Mm."

"b.l.o.o.d.y b.l.o.o.d.y suits."

"Mm."

"Think they know everything."

"Mm."

"While we have to create a masterpiece in two b.l.o.o.d.y weeks."

"Mm."

The lift door opened onto the penthouse floor, and they walked over plush carpet to their office-with-a-view.

"I'm not sure she's all bad," said Anthony.

"b.o.l.l.o.c.ks. She's one of the worst."

Anthony shrugged.

"You've just got to know how to play her," he said, shutting their office door behind him.

When Vanessa got home that evening, the kitchen was buzzing. Jo tidied while chatting to Tallulah, d.i.c.k helped Zak with his homework, Ca.s.sandra practiced her recorder in the living room, and Josh sat at the table, tapping into his laptop, occasionally shooing off the cats, who had decided his keyboard was their activity center. Vanessa felt a rare moment of contentment.

'h.e.l.lo, darling!" greeted d.i.c.k. "Josh is moving in."

And lo. The moment was over.

Once the children were all in bed, d.i.c.k and Josh a.s.sembled a dinner of salads, cheeses and breads and Vanessa opened the first bottle of wine. She insisted Jo join them.

"I suppose it just would have been nice to have had some notice," Vanessa told Josh.

"I kept thinking I'd find someone to replace them," said Josh, shrugging. "But no luck."

"Even in Crouch End?" she said incredulously.

"Yep. Even in Creche End. Too many b.l.o.o.d.y babies in that place. You can't even have a decent pint without some bloke coming in with a baby strapped to his front, talking about how little sleep he's getting, like he wants a medal for it."

"I suppose your ideal flatmate would have been Claudia Schiffer," muttered Vanessa.

"I'm not quite that shallow," said Josh, casting Jo a quick glance. "I'd have coped with Yasmin le Bon."

"Well, it's okay with me," said Vanessa, "as long as Jo's happy sharing her suite with you."

"So, Jo!" he said. "What's it like having Vanessa care what you think? I've never known."

"Well, if you helped with the children occasionally," retorted Vanessa, "I'd care what you thought, too."

"I didn't know that was my role in life," said Josh calmly, b.u.t.tering some bread. "To look after my father's second family after he left mine."

There was an ugly pause. Jo stared at her unfinished meal.

"Come on, people," whispered d.i.c.k eventually. "Come on."

Jo noticed that Josh didn't eat his bread.

Over freshly ground evening coffee and Chinese green tea with fresh mint from the organic grocers, Josh explained to Vanessa why he'd be spending his days at home for the first week or so of the new arrangement, until he felt well enough to go on the tube.

"Rush hour's a nightmare at the best of times," he said. "This way I do my annual homework leave time and don't get my already-twisted ankle and already-crushed bones damaged even more on the tube. The doctor said I should keep it up for two weeks. So to speak. But I can't afford two weeks off. Anyway, it'll be fun working from here. Sharing an office with your incredibly efficient nanny."

d.i.c.k and Vanessa gave him a pointed look.

"Hey! Don't look at me," he said. "It's not my fault my body's black-and-blue." He toasted Jo, with a wicked glint in his eye. "You can thank Nanny Psycho for that."

Vanessa took a deep sigh and put down her winegla.s.s. Jo could almost hear d.i.c.k's b.u.t.tocks clench.

"Joshua," began Vanessa. "I think we need a little talk." She spoke to Josh as if he'd just done a poo in her shoe. "d.i.c.k and I feel genuinely wretched that you have been hurt in our home, and I think it is safe to say that Jo feels the same." d.i.c.k and Jo nodded vehemently and attempted some half noises of a.s.sent.

"But," continued Vanessa, "if you honestly think we'd rather have a nanny who slept through a man breaking into our home than a nanny who fought her terror and called the police, you are more of a fool than you look."

Josh's already-stiff body stiffened some more.

"Now, now-" started d.i.c.k.

"Richard!" shot Vanessa, as if her husband had picked up the shoe with the poo in it and eaten it. "I am handling this, thank you very much."

If there had been any doubt before, all was now squashed.

"As far as we're concerned"-Vanessa turned her attention back to Josh-"you gave Jo here a unique opportunity to prove to us just how much of an addition she is to our family and"-she left a pause so dramatic even the goldfish tensed-"exactly how much you are not." Jo winced. "Any more snide comments about our nanny, who after her heroics last night has proved herself clearly underpaid, will simply not be tolerated under this roof."

The silence following this little speech was interrupted only by Molly and Bolly, who chose this moment to lift their right hind legs in corps-de-ballet synchronicity and conduct a thorough investigation of their bottoms.

"Am I making myself clear, Joshua?" asked Vanessa.

There was a pause.

"Crystal," said Josh quietly.

Vanessa turned to Jo and spoke in the tone of Cinderella addressing her favorite fluffy kitten.

"In fact, Jo, we haven't discussed it yet, but I know d.i.c.k would agree with me. We'd very much like to offer you a raise."

Jo was so shocked she didn't even notice d.i.c.k's and Josh's reactions.

After dinner, Jo had to move the few things she'd put into her dressing room out of it, while Josh moved his stuff in. That day, d.i.c.k had gone to IKEA and bought Jo a fabric wardrobe and a tiny table which was to act as her dressing table. It suited her fine.

Surveying her packing with a dismal air, she quickly plaited her hair out of her eyes and then started when she realized Josh was standing in her doorway, surveying her in a somewhat similar vein.

He suddenly held up a bottle of wine and two gla.s.ses, and managed a smile that Jo imagined cost him a great deal. "Fancy a cheeky little Italian?"

"Oh," she said.

"To relax us both after our adventures." She nodded very slowly and thoughtfully, as if her head was trying to make its imprint in treacle, and Josh commenced pouring, a tad erratically. "And to help me forget that my father's wife hates me." He stretched out the full gla.s.s of wine toward her, and she extended her arm to take it. As her hand clenched the gla.s.s they locked eyes.

"Thanks."

"And of course," he smiled, before letting go, "to dull your senses. We don't want you phoning the police if I make any sudden moves."

Jo heard herself let out a sudden laugh. "That's not fair," she said quietly, not daring to pull away the gla.s.s. "You really scared me."

"Did I? Sorry about that," he said, and allowed her to take the wine.

She gulped it down.

'Forgiven,' she said lightly, turning away.

They unpacked in silence, apart from Jo's gentle humming. When her mobile phone rang, she picked it up, saw it was Shaun, and turned it off angrily. She didn't feel like being told off again, especially in front of Josh.

It didn't take either of them long to unpack. Afterward, Josh hobbled into Jo's room and sat down slowly on her bed, putting the wine on the floor between them. He smiled pleasantly enough at her but she wasn't convinced. Warily, she sat against the wall, strands of her plait falling round her face.

"So," he said. "How are you enjoying working for the Munsters?"

"It's fine," said Jo carefully.

"Oh come on," said Josh. "They're b.l.o.o.d.y mad, the lot of them."

Jo forced what she hoped was an easy smile. "It's hard work," she confessed. "But the kids are lovely."

"Yeah," agreed Josh, the corners of his mouth curving up a fraction, as if keeping a secret. "They are."

They both nodded and smiled for a bit.