Page 26 of A Manny for Christmas

As I rush out to dribble warm water over the windscreen, it occurs to me that Molly’s little Golf must have been frozen solid at what-the-fuck o’clock when she left. Through my haze of self-pity, I feel a pang. That must have been shitty for her to deal with at that hour of the morning.

I dump the kettle back in the kitchen. Lock the front door. Herd the kids into the car, which is absolutely freezing. They’re still silent. Excellent. Who knew all I had to do was lose my rag?

And why do I now feel guilty when I look at Toby’s pinched, white little face? Daisy’s tired, reddened eyes?

Seriously. This has been the most physically and emotionally draining hour of my life.

‘Why are the car seats not warm?’ Daisy finds the courage to ask, five minutes into the journey. ‘Mine’s cold.’

I glance in the mirror. ‘Ah. The seat heaters are on, but the heat probably can’t get through your child seat. Sorry about that. I’ll turn the heating up.’

Molly fixed their seats into the back of the car last night, and I wasn’t paying much attention. Toby’s just on a booster, but Daisy’s has a full backrest and arms. So much so for my false promises about cosy seats.

Jesus. It feels like I’ve failed at every single thing I’ve set out to do this morning.

Wearily, I steer the car into the school grounds. The dashboard clock is showing eight-thirty-two, but there are still plenty of adults and kids milling about. I throw on my hazards and pull up in a space clearly markedno parking.

‘Hey!’ a woman in a high-vis jacket shouts as I open my door and get down, tights in hand. ‘You can’t park there!’

‘Watch me,’ I growl. Pissing her off is very far down my list of priorities right now.

I get the kids and their bags out and stride off with Daisy in my arms, ignoring the woman’s hands-on-hips brand of moral outrage. I’m this close to flipping her the bird.

‘Where do I drop you?’ I bark.

‘Daisy goes in over there. That’s her teacher.’ Toby points to a young, pretty woman who’s attempting to shepherd a motley crew of Daisy-sized kids towards the run-down-looking building. I pick up my pace. Right now, this woman is an oasis in the desert. A willing adult who’ll take this pint-sized monster off my hands.

‘Hi.’ I shove Daisy at the woman before putting the bloody tissue back to my nose. ‘We had an altercation over some tights, I’m afraid. It got violent.’ I panic and backtrack. ‘I mean, the violence was purely at her end. Obviously.’

‘Oh dear.’ Her eyes widen. ‘Are you okay? I could—you could come in, and I could get the nurse to take a look?’ She blushes prettily.

‘I’m fine. I just want to get out of here.’ I hand her the tights. ‘Sorry about leaving you with this mess.’

She nods. ‘Of course you do. It’s not a problem.’ Squatting down to Daisy’s height, she looks her in the eye. ‘Were we unhappy with our tights again, Daisy?’

‘Hedid them wrong.’ Daisy shoots me her signature death stare.

‘I’m surehewas trying his best. What do you say for hurting him?’

I hearsorry, Max, but her eyes are sayingdie, fucker.

‘No worries, Daze.’ I pat her insincerely on the head. ‘Have a good day. Thanks again,’ I say to the teacher.

‘My pleasure.’ She pats her hair before taking Daisy’s hand. ‘Come on, Daisy. Let’s go sing our morning song.’

I turn gratefully to Toby. ‘Where to now, Tobes?’

‘I’m over there.’ He points. ‘I can go on my own.’

‘Mate.’ I look him in the eye. ‘I cannot thank you enough for having my back this morning. You’re an absolute rockstar, and I’m sorry I made you a bit late.’

‘That’s okay.’ He looks over his shoulder like he’s desperate to get to where he needs to be. I want to have a little chat with him about it not being his responsibility to make sure everyone gets out the door on time, but I’ll just make him more late and more antsy. It can wait till later.

‘See you. Have a great day.’ I ruffle his hair.

‘See ya.’ He turns and pelts across the tarmac.

I head back to the car and climb wearily in, ignoring the stares of the Parking Nazi. A check in the mirror tells me the blood is clotting.

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