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looking forward to animal day tomorrow. Night night.’

      Sophie froze. ‘Animal day? What’s that?’ It couldn’t be World Book Day – they’d done that a few weeks ago.

      ‘I need a costume of my favourite endangered animal. Can I be a dinosaur? They’re endangered aren’t they?’

      ‘Costume? Animal?’ said Sophie, struggling to form a sentence.

      Arlo giggled. ‘Mummy, you’re funny. Costume. Animal,’ he mimicked. His expression changed to deadly serious. ‘It has to be better than Willoughby Newell’s. He’s coming as a turtle.’

      ‘You get some sleep. Mummy will sort it out.’

      Within minutes Sophie was rifling through Arlo’s school bag. At the bottom was a screwed-up piece of paper smeared in mud and some unidentifiable sticky substance. She unfolded it and speed-read the letter. ‘Argh!’ Arlo was right. He needed to wear a costume to school, a costume that represented one of the many endangered animals on the planet as part of Climate Change and World Awareness Week. How could schools do this to parents? Where was she meant to get an endangered animal costume that was better than Willoughby sodding Newell’s turtle at this short notice?

      Dave’s face peered around the living room door. ‘You all right?’

      ‘Arlo needs to go to school as an animal tomorrow.’ The fight was fast ebbing from Sophie as her body gave way to exhaustion and fatigue.

      ‘How about a monkey? He goes as that every day,’ said Dave, with a big grin. Sophie wanted to slap him.

      ‘It’s serious, Dave. He needs an outfit and it’s …’ she checked her watch ‘… a quarter to nine at night.’

      ‘Ah, don’t worry about it. I bet most of them won’t have a costume. He’ll be fine without one.’

      ‘He can’t be the odd one out!’ Sophie was outraged. Pictures of poor Arlo dressed in his school uniform danced through her mind, alongside ones of all his friends and Willoughby Newell sporting the best endangered species outfits money could buy. ‘You could help more, Dave.’

      ‘Okay. What did he wear for Halloween? Could he wear it again?’

      ‘He was a zombie pirate.’

      Dave pulled a face. ‘Sorry. Dunno then.’ And he disappeared back to watch the television. Sophie sat on the stairs, clutching the school note, and felt like crying.

      The next morning Sophie came flying into the office; her wild hair matched her eyes and the buttons on her cardigan were done up out of sync. ‘You okay?’ asked Anna, already knowing the answer.

      ‘No. I have been up half the night sewing.’

      Anna did the thing where you open your mouth to speak but your brain is going ‘Nope, I’ve got nothing of any use in this situation.’ ‘Sewing?’ said Anna.

      ‘Yes, sewing. I made a polar bear costume out of an old sheet, a cardboard box and a weird furry scarf thing Kraken gave me for Christmas, which I’m sure was something she was regifting.’

      ‘You are such a good mum. Any photos?’ asked Anna.

      Sophie fumbled with her phone and passed it to Anna. Anna studied the picture of a white mass with drawn-on claws in black Sharpie and a conical-shaped head with yogurt pots for ears. It did resemble an animal of some kind but she would have struggled to identify it as a polar bear. More like a ghostly aardvark. ‘It’s amazing,’ she said, in what she hoped was an encouraging voice.

      ‘I thought so,’ said Sophie, her voice changing into something akin to Linda Blair’s in The Exorcist. ‘It’s not rubbish, is it?’

      ‘Nooooo,’ said Anna, shaking her head firmly.

      ‘What’s this?’ asked Hudson, popping up at Anna’s shoulder. He started to laugh and Anna gave him a Paddington Bear stare. He turned his laugh into a cough. ‘Wow, that is the scariest Ku Klux Klan member I’ve ever seen. His hat’s slipped a bit.’

      Anna failed to stifle a splutter of a laugh. ‘It’s a polar bear.’ Hudson almost pushed his face into Sophie’s phone for a second look.

      ‘Arlo refused to wear it. He said it was the worst polar bear in the world and it deserved to be endangered.’ Sophie looked glum.

      ‘Kids can be harsh critics,’ said Hudson.

      ‘Dave agreed with him.’

      Anna feared for Dave’s safety. ‘And where is Dave now?’

      ‘He merrily trotted off to work leaving me with a completely naked Arlo who refused to wear anything unless it was an endangered species. I was tempted to tell him to go as he was because his life expectancy was diminishing with every second.’

      ‘Here, have my coffee. It’s decaf,’ said Anna, passing it to Sophie.

      ‘Thanks.’ She didn’t look like she meant it.

      Anna hardly dared to ask how it all ended but she had to know. ‘So, what happened?’

      ‘He’s gone to school dressed as the Pink Panther. It’s the costume he wore for World Book Day last year. It’s too small. I had to slit the legs and arms so he looks like he’s had an Incredible Hulk moment.’

      ‘As long as he’s happy,’ said Anna, trying to ignore Hudson who was still chuckling behind her.

      ‘He freaked his teacher out when he pulled the long pink tail between his legs and waggled it at her.’ Sophie gave a weak smile. ‘That was almost worth it.’

      ‘Brilliant.’ Anna giggled as she pictured the scene.

      ‘What’s brilliant?’ asked Karl, arriving at his desk. ‘They’ve decided to introduce my idea of Naked Thursdays?’ he offered. ‘The next team event is mud wrestling? Roberta’s been abducted by Aston Villa supporters?’

      ‘Nope, sorry. Sophie’s son went to school as the Pink Panther,’ said Anna.

      ‘I already knew about that,’ said Karl, plugging his laptop back in. Both the women looked confused. ‘It’s front-page news everywhere. Bloody hell, your lives are riveting.’

      ‘Shut up, Karl,’ they chorused.

      He held up his hands in defence. ‘Okay, okay.’ He turned to Sophie. ‘I read your outline paper. It’s really good. When this syncs …’ he pointed at the laptop ‘… there’s some feedback coming your way. Then you can update and issue it.’

      ‘Thanks,’ said Sophie, viewing him as if he were an unexploded bomb.

      ‘What? Don’t look at me like that. I can do a good impression of a sensible person, you know. I’ve got a certificate and everything.’

      Silvie wandered over and they all tried to appear as if they were busy. ‘Can we move our three o’clock to four?’ she asked Karl.

      He checked his diary.

      ‘Have you lost weight?’ Silvie asked Anna.

      Anna was standing next to Sophie and she immediately straightened. ‘Um, no. I don’t think so.’ Anna’s size was fairly static thanks to her running.

      ‘Actually, I think it’s just where you’re standing,’ said Silvie, eyeing Sophie.

      Karl coughed. ‘Yep, no problem moving the meeting. I’m loving your tan, Silvie.’ Silvie beamed at him and sauntered off.

      ‘You are such a liar,’ said Anna, once Silvie was out of earshot.

      ‘What? It’s not a lie. Orange happens to be my favourite colour,’ said Karl, putting his hand to his chest as if saying an oath.

      Sophie was looking puzzled. ‘Did that cow imply I was fat?’

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