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‘Toy box coming in hot,’ said Poppy not a minute later, staggering into the house with Freddie’s very full and pretty heavy toy box. ‘Fuck me!’ she yelled as she dropped it.

‘Thatisa swear,’ Freddie pointed out.

Norah’s mother was drawn in by the noise. ‘What have you done to my floor?’ she demanded.

Norah had a quick look, and it was indeed scratched.

‘It’s OK, I can sort that out,’ Norah tried to assure her mother.

‘Oh, you’re a floor fitter, are you?’ her mother snapped at her.

‘It’s just a scratch. It’ll come out,’ Norah said.

‘That’s a permanent mark,’ her mother said.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Poppy said. ‘I’ll pay to get it sorted.’

Her mother let out a noise that was somewhere between a tut and a scoff. ‘Flinging your pop-star money at it, are you?’ she asked with horrid derision.

Norah would have loved to have told her to get a grip and let them fix the mistake, but unfortunately, the woman was now her landlord. She couldn’t afford to piss her off.

Poppy cleared her throat anxiously. ‘Mrs Cauldwell, I don’t have pop-star money anymore. That was a long time ago.’

‘Yeah, she works at The Sugar Cube,’ Norah added despite herself.

‘I don’t go there. Three pounds for a cup of tea?’ her mum snorted.

‘I don’t set the prices,’ Poppy said. ‘But if you come in, I’m sure I could slip you a freebie.’

‘Hmm,’ she said. ‘I think I’ll stick to my own tea.’ She waltzed out.

The second she was out of earshot, Poppy had her phone out. ‘Apparently, I need to get wood putty.’

‘Right, off to B&Q,’ Norah said decisively. She turned to her son. ‘Freds, you coming?’

Freddie already had his head jammed in his toy box. ‘No,’ he said flatly. He pulled out a sack of Legos. He would be good for about thirty minutes. They had to make the best of the time.

‘Mum, we’re nipping out!’ Norah called. ‘Keep an eye on Freds, would you?’ She pulled Poppy out before her mother could start a fresh row about babysitting duties.

***

‘Is this it?’ Poppy asked, holding up a jar of wood putty.

‘God, I don’t know,’ Norah shrugged, baffled.

‘Fuck’s sake,’ Poppy groaned.

A young woman with a tight ponytail suddenly appeared. Her name tag read Sally. ‘Can I help?’ she asked.

‘I scratched some floorboards, and I need to fix it, fast,’ Poppy told her.

‘How deep was the scratch?’ the woman asked, a little smile curling up her lips. Norah realised why she’d dashed over to help.

‘What do you think?’ Poppy asked Norah.

‘They weren’tthatdeep,’ Norah said.

‘You might just want to try a stain pen,’ the woman said. She led them down the aisle to the right section. ‘Do you know the colour?’