“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 they can get up, at which point you give them hugs and kisses as a reward for apologizing.

Personally, I think Pete believes in the naughty step mainly because it offers some kind of reassurance that he’s disciplining Theo the right way, when all the evidence seems to suggest that actually, Theo is almost completely impervious to discipline of any kind. But Pete claims it works, so I never interfere.

Pete bodily pushes Theo down onto the step, then starts to explain. “This is a church, Theo. In church people are quiet so they can listen to God—”

   “Bababababababab!” Theo yells, putting his hands over his ears.

“Here we are clothed with Christ, dying to sin that we may live his risen life,” the vicar intones.

Theo drums his shoes on the stone floor, making a satisfying echo. “Babababab!”

“As children of God, we have a new dignity, and God calls us to fullness of life—”

“…so we have to sit still, without talking or playing, just like all these other people are…”

“Let us now pray, in silent contemplation—”

“Sowwy, Daddy.”

“It’s not time to say sorry yet. You have to wait for the timer. Two minutes.”

“I’m sowwy, Daddy.”

Miles laughs. “Oh, come on, Pete. Little beggar’s said he’s sorry.” He opens his arms. “C’mon, big man. Give me a hug.”

Theo jumps up from the step and runs into Miles’s arms. “Huh-hay!” Miles says, swinging him up so their heads are level. “You going to come and sit quietly with me now?”

“Yesss!” Theo says, very loud in the contemplative silence.

* * *

—

IT’S A GOOD THING we’re still in the middle of the service. Pete’s so angry at Miles’s intervention, he can’t meet my eye as he comes and sits down. Theo sits meekly on Miles’s lap, occasionally sneaking glances at Pete over Miles’s shoulder. Then—proof that miracles do happen—he starts listening to what the vicar’s saying, or perhaps the singsong way she’s saying it captures his attention. And soon it’s time for the exciting bit, getting all the parents, godparents, and children to come and stand around the font and lighting a long white candle for each child. Theo’s eyes go very big when he’s given his candle to hold. Since candles are usually for blowing out—he’d been encouraged to blow out the ones on his birthday cake, after all, just a short while back—he takes a big breath and puffs out his cheeks, until the vicar stops him.

   “Not yet. You have to wait until I’ve put water on you.”

“Wow!” Theo says, amazed, and everyone—not just the people around the front, but in the pews as well—laughs. Somehow he’s managed to charm them all. It’s only Pete, glowering beside me, who’s still furious.

Miles looks at Theo with fatherly pride, and I realize that of course I know exactly where Theo gets his charm from.

* * *

—

“I’M GOING TO HAVE to speak to Miles,” Pete says as soon as the service is over.

“Yes,” I agree. “You are. But, Pete…”

“What?”

I try to choose my words carefully. Pete’s a wonderful parent, but sometimes he can take it all a bit seriously. “I think it was a genuine misunderstanding. I don’t suppose Miles knows anything about the naughty step and timers and so on. I think he just wanted to help.”

“Well, it’s time he did understand.” Pete strides over to where Miles is chatting to Keith and Andy. I hear him say firmly, “Can I have a moment, Miles?” The two of them move off. Andy catches my eye and pulls a face, one of his parody-camp ones—Ooohh!—that are only half a parody.

Pete and Miles talk for about a minute. Miles is nodding. Then he claps Pete on the shoulder and puts out his hand, which Pete shakes.

“Everything all right?” I ask Pete when he comes back.

   “Fine,” he says. He sounds almost surprised. “He completely took my point. Apologized and said it won’t happen again.”

I look over at Miles. The expression on his face—eager, friendly, alert—is familiar, somehow. Then I recall where I last saw it. It’s the same expression Theo had on his face on the naughty step, when he said sorry before it was time.