A Demon for the School Run

How it begins

The woman applying to share the school run had never been late.

Not once.

Rowan asked whether she meant that literally.

"Yes."

He looked at her references.

Three were written on ordinary paper. The fourth had been burned into a material he decided not to identify.

"Previous experience?"

"Transport. Conflict resolution. Some pastoral work."

"With children?"

"Mostly adults who behaved similarly."

He should have ended the interview there.

Instead, he looked at the clock. His morning meeting began in twenty minutes. His daughter had hidden one shoe in protest against the concept of Wednesday.

Adra waited without appearing to wait.

She wore a sensible coat, carried an umbrella and had the calm expression of someone for whom traffic was not a meaningful obstacle.

"The job is simple," Rowan said. "We alternate mornings. No surprises. If there's a problem, you call."

"Of course."

"And no shortcuts across the canal."

A brief pause.

"All right."

On Thursday she arrived at eight twenty exactly.

At eight twenty-one, his daughter waved from the school gate on his phone.

The school was a twenty-minute walk away.

Rowan called Adra.

"How?"

"The crossing was clear."

"Which crossing?"

"The one behind the bins."

"There isn't a crossing behind the bins."

"There is now."

That evening he found a thin red line running from his garden gate to the pavement.

Adra stood beside it, holding the missing shoe.

"I should explain."

"Yes."

She handed him the shoe before saying anything else.

"I am a demon."

Rowan looked at the school timetable, the unexplained reference and the umbrella that had somehow remained dry in heavy rain.

"Does that affect your insurance?"

Adra stared at him.

Then, unexpectedly, she laughed.

It was the first thing about her that had not sounded perfectly prepared.

Rowan found he wanted to hear it again, which was not remotely covered by the agreement.