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the end, and I do need to find him.’
    ‘Seema said she might be able to fix the wiring,’ said Emily. ‘Shall I find her and ask her to do it?’
    ‘I wish I could leave everything to Seema. Isn’t she marvellous? But she’s doing the induction with the parents. Emily, do you think you could have a look for Precious? You like dogs – can you see if you can coax her out? She’s an evil-looking bulldog with a very low undercarriage. She stinks. Her name’s Precious. Have you got a sausage or something to tempt her with when you find her?’
    Emily did not. She thought she might not go and look for Precious. She said, ‘I already met the dog, remember?’
    ‘Oh, yes. I’m so stressed. I’m getting confused about things. Thank goodness you’re here, Ems.’
    Morgana said, ‘What a shame I don’t write mysteries, I could be noting all this down. It only really gets interesting for me when the love interest crops up. Can you do anything about that, Victoria?’
    Just then, as if waiting for his cue – he was an actor, after all – the most handsome man Emily had ever seen walked through the door, accompanied by a small, beautiful, caramel-coloured child. It was David Devereux and Dolly. Dolly had long, curly hair that sprang out from her head as though someone had opened it to try to understand the workings and hadn’t been able to fit everything back in again. David had eyes, hands, lips, teeth, a smile, a chest, a waist, long legs and strong arms – just like any other man, really. But the way they had all been put together seemed so much more appealing.
    ‘Oh, Muriel,’ said Morgana Blakely. ‘Here’s your answer, if you ever ask yourself why we agree to do these things – you’ve got your self-fulfilling prophesy video conundrum. And I’ve got this.’
    ‘Hello, Victoria,’ said David. They greeted each other like former lovers who still cared about each other, which is to say, they held hands and looked into each other’s eyes, strange, tender expressions on their faces, as though they weren’t sure whether they ought to say sorry about something.
    ‘Emily,’ Victoria said eventually, ‘this is David. Would you mind looking after him? And Dolly, do you want to come with me and find some of the other children? One of the teachers will show you around. You can see how you like the place.’
    ‘Victoria!’ called David before she had gone too far. ‘Did you ever have children?’
    Victoria turned, Dolly’s hand in hers. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Three sons.’
    She turned, and they walked away. Sunlight streamed from the tall windows along the corridor and dripped coppery highlights into Victoria’s plaits and Dolly’s liquorice-coloured curly hair: a woman dressed as a child from a story about a tornado-induced dream holding onto the hand of a child who was so beautiful Emily thought she looked as though she’d be able to create tornadoes and stories of her own one day.
    ‘Emily!’ whispered Dr. Muriel, interrupting Emily’s reverie. ‘I wanted to ask you about these letters Victoria’s been receiving. We can’t do it now. Shall we try to find a moment?’
    ‘Seema could probably show you one,’ Emily said. ‘They’ve been coming to Victoria’s house, but apparently one arrived at the school this morning.’
    ‘Indeed? That’s most interesting.’ She turned to Morgana and indicated that they should head upstairs to the office. ‘Shall we?’
    ‘Must we?’ said Morgana. She gave a little wave to Emily and David, and she took Dr. Muriel’s arm as they walked up the stairs.
    ‘Nice place,’ said David to Emily. ‘How long have you been working here?’
    ‘About an hour.’
    David laughed as though it was the cleverest thing anyone had ever said to him. Somewhere in the background, as more and more students arrived to take part in the show, Emily heard the sound of children’s joyful voices, as though they had heard David laughing and wanted to join in. Emily was