exactly what had happened or how it had happened, and no one would dare to fight again, but they were still mortal enemies. Nanny McPhee glided into the room and eyed them all beadily. Then she cleared her throat. Everyone looked at her. The stick was nowhere to be seen.

‘I am going to explain to you the way I work,’ she said.

‘That’ll take some doing,’ muttered Cyril.

‘Do try and remember this,’ she continued, ignoring Cyril. ‘When you need me but do not want me, then I must stay. When you want me but no longer need me, then I have to go.’

The children frowned. Then Cyril, who was good at being rude when the occasion demanded it, said what they were all thinking.

‘How could anyone possibly ever want you?’

Instead of being cross, Nanny McPhee gazed at him equably. ‘Well, it’s an odd thought, I grant you, but there it is,’ she said. ‘Now, to business. In the absence of any spare beds, Norman, I presume, will be sharing with Cyril?’

‘I’d rather share with a goat,’ said Norman immediately.

‘A goat wouldn’t have you,’ retorted Cyril.

‘I see,’ said Nanny McPhee calmly. ‘Megsie, Celia – would you be willing to share?’

‘I’d rather share with Geraldine,’ snapped Megsie.

‘She’s our cow,’ explained Vincent helpfully, busy wondering what he’d rather share his bed with.

‘I’m not sharing anything with that vicious harpy!’ said Celia.

‘And I’d rather share with an elephant!’ crowed Vincent, happy to have made a decision. Next to pigs, elephants were his favourite.

‘Thank you, Vincent, but you will not be required to share, owing to the size of your bed. The rest of you, however, will have to come to some arrangement.’

‘Never!’ said Norman,

‘Never!’ said Megsie,

‘Never!’ said Celia,

‘Never!’ said Cyril,

and

‘NEVER!’ yelled Vincent, delighted to have the last word for once.

Nanny McPhee frowned. The cloak began to move aside. Uh-oh.

Downstairs, time had been playing funny tricks again, for Mrs Green had had half an hour to have a proper bath and wash her hair. She hadn’t been able to have more than a two-minute wash for what felt like months and she felt like a new woman. She looked up the stairs anxiously. All was silent. Except – wait, no, she’d heard a sort of a thud. Well, more like the echo of a thud, more like a little tremor through the house. Then she saw two little golden sparks pattering down the stairs. She rubbed her eyes. When she opened them, the sparks were gone. How odd, she thought. That bath’s relaxed me so much I’m seeing things. Perhaps this new nanny was just what they all needed. She was a bit – well – ugly, to be sure, but her results were nothing short of –

‘Ahem.’

Mrs Green jumped and found Nanny McPhee in front of her holding a lantern.

‘Lesson Two – to share nicely – is complete,’ she said.

‘What? I mean, how? I mean – that’s a miracle – how on earth – how did you do it, Nanny McPhee?’ said Mrs Green.

‘I’m afraid that’s classified information, Mrs Green,’ said Nanny McPhee, walking towards the kitchen door. ‘The army is very strict about such matters.’

‘Oh yes, yes, of course,’ said Mrs Green, feeling slightly ashamed to have asked at all. ‘The thing is,’ she went on, very fast so that Nanny McPhee wouldn’t leave, ‘we can’t afford to pay you and we haven’t any spare beds but –’

‘Please do not trouble yourself, Mrs Green,’ said Nanny McPhee. ‘The army remunerates me and I have arranged my own accommodation. Goodnight, Mrs Green. Pleasant dreams.’

And with that, the kitchen door quietly opened and Nanny McPhee slid silently out. Mrs Green put her fist into her mouth and bit it. No, she was awake. She hadn’t just had an amazing dream about an ugly, free nanny or the fact that she’d had time to wash her ears in the bath. Sighing with contentment, she lifted her tea and took a lovely, long gulp.

Back in the bedroom – and this will come as no surprise – the children were in bed with their teeth brushed. Megsie and Celia were head-to-toe, as were Norman and Cyril. They were all absolutely furious and determined not to sleep a wink until such time as they could either escape or complain to their mother about the Big Warty Person who was making them do things they didn’t want to do. They stared at each other hatefully. Vincent was also being unpleasant, jumping up and down upon his truckle-bed singing, ‘I don’t have