it’s a joint baptism with three other families, regular members of the congregation who know one another well, it feels like our group are interlopers. It doesn’t help, either, that the other children are all babies, only one of whom is even grizzling slightly. Whereas Theo…Theo simply doesn’t do keeping a low profile.
The church is one of those trendy ones that pride itself on having a box of books to keep kids entertained—there’s even a poster advertising something called Messy Church, every third week—but because this is a christening, everything is slightly more formal. Theo is overexcited from the start. As soon as he sees Lucy and Miles he shouts “Moles!” before running at them and trying to rugby-tackle Miles. Miles just laughs and ruffles his hair. Our friends Keith and Andy are with us—Andy has agreed to be the third godparent—so there are muttered introductions and handshakes, and I notice some of the regulars turning around to see who’s making all this noise.
Lucy is carrying David. He lies in her arms very quietly, looking around with a slightly fearful expression. I reach out and stroke his fine, soft hair, itching to hold him myself. Like last time, he doesn’t react, just looks at me with his big, solemn eyes. But I like to think he’s a little less anxious after that.
Theo spots the box of books and makes a beeline for it. But since he can’t read, to him it’s just a big box of stories that require an adult to read them aloud. “Daddy! Daddy!” he calls eagerly, but Pete only puts his finger to his lips. The vicar has started her introduction now, something about the continued relevance of the Church and how important it is to welcome the next generation of worshippers. Theo takes out some books and starts throwing them at a side chapel like a knife-thrower, using the metal crucifix as his target. When he hits it, it gives an audible clang! and the vicar looks over, perturbed.
“Yeah!” Theo shouts happily.
Pete excuses his way out of the pew and goes to deal with him. After a moment, Miles follows. Theo must think it’s a game, or perhaps something in Pete’s grim expression warns him he’s in trouble, because he decides to make himself scarce. Diving beneath the backmost pew, he wriggles between the feet of the people in it and then keeps going, on to the pews in front. Because he’s coming from behind, the first anyone knows of it is when a small body pushes its way through their legs. By the time they’ve realized what’s happening, he’s gone.
Pete always hates it when Theo doesn’t behave well in public—as if it’s a reflection on his parenting skills. “Theo!” he says, in a voice that tries to balance sternness with not shouting over the vicar. “Come here! Now!” Theo just chortles and commando-crawls his way onward.
“Sorry, chaps. Ball coming through!” Miles contributes cheerfully, keeping pace alongside Theo in the aisle, but not actually able to get to him.
Pete goes to stand at the front, ready to grab Theo when he comes out, but Theo spots him and simply reverses direction. Luckily a woman four rows back has the good sense to clap her legs together, trapping him long enough for Pete, by now red with anger and embarrassment, to make his way along the pew and haul him out.
“Our Lord Jesus Christ has told us that to enter the kingdom of heaven, we must be born again of water and the Spirit,” the vicar is saying.
“Naughty step. Now!” Pete hisses, dragging a wriggling Theo toward the door of the church. Then he stops and looks around.
His problem, I realize, is that if he takes Theo outside, he won’t know when they’re needed for the baptism. So he improvises, putting Theo down on the big stone step that leads from the church door into the nave.
Pete’s a big believer in the naughty step. It was invented by some TV supernanny who insists it only works if you follow a set of very precise instructions, which Pete always does, to the letter. First, you take the child to the step in silence and sit them down. Second, you explain to them what they’ve done wrong. Third, you walk away and set a timer for one minute per year of the child’s age. When the timer goes off, you explain a second time why they’re on the naughty step. Then they have to apologize before