“Alright sweethearts, one bedtime story, then it’s bedibyes time,” their grandmother insisted, as she tucked the youngest girls in immediately after supper, “and be quiet, darlings, your Mummy’s sleeping.”

“Oh, Naaaan, I’m missing —”

Grandmother tut-tutted, the eldest Arthur was always the loudest to protest, but usually the first to fold, “Now, Art, I don’t want any arguments,” she whispered, “tomorrow you can stay up, watch whatever you wanted to watch on ... whatever that thingabob’s called.”

“iPlayer, Nan,” Art grinned. Nan wasn’t good with technical terminology, despite her computer maintenance skills. He had to admit, she was a whizz repairing the old PC that Dad always promised to fix but never did. She’d even upgraded its operating system, RAM and video card to run the latest games. Brilliant was Nan, but knew nothing about tuning TVs or the DVD. Perhaps she’ll do a TV course next year; she did several courses at once: keeping her brain working, she said.

“What bedtime story have you got for us, Nana?” young Jessica asked, once she was tucked in.

“I have a new one about fierce dragons, naughty knights and sweet princesses; shall I tell it?”

“Pleeease,” they chorused, including Art; age nine really isn’t too old for a good bedtime story.

So Nanny sat on Jessie’s bed, with Art on Frances’s, and she began.

“Once upon a time there was a Witch and a Sorcerer who went about sometimes disguised as Dragons. Nearby their lair was a pink palace where lived a beautiful baby Princess.”

The girls giggled, only one sentence in and they already had a witch, a sorcerer, dragons and a princess. This was good stuff for a bedtime story.

Nan continued, “But then the King went away —”

“To war?” Art suggested, waving an imaginary sword with one hand.

“Probably, but it doesn’t matter why he left,” Nan continued, “leaving the Queen and Princess alone at home.”

“Did they miss him?” Fanny, the middle girl asked.

“The Princess missed him terribly,” said Nanny, “But the Queen didn’t miss the King at all and she and the Sorcerer were very naughty together. And, children, tell me what happens when you’re naughty?” Nanny looked at each child in turn, while they looked at each other. Jessie spoke first, her lower lip trembling.

“You have to sit on the Naughty Step, Nana?” Jessie ventured timorously.

“Exactly,” agreed Nanny, “and if you are still naughty after that?”

“Off to bed with you,” the children chorused in harmony, getting into the game with Nanny, “with no supper!”

“Shh!” Nanny quietly hushed them in case they disturbed their Mummy, “But if after that, what if they were still naughty?”

This was new territory for the children. They looked wide eyed and nervous. The naughty step was the furthest they’d ever gone; nobody ever risked missing supper, so what could be worse punishment that that?

“Well,” Nanny continued after a pause, “I’ll tell you. The Witch was very angry with them both. She turned herself into a fire-breathing Dragon and burned down the Palace with the Queen and the Sorcerer inside.”

“Wha — what about the ... Princess?” Fanny asked.

“The Witch flew in on her broomstick and rescued her!” announced Nanny triumphantly, “and flew her to safety.”

“Hooray!” the children cried.

“Shh!” Nan put a finger over her mouth, “Mummy’s sedated.”

“Wha-what’s ‘said dated’?” asked Jessie.

“The Doctor gave Mummy something to make her sleep. Now, do you want to hear more of this story or not?”

They all nodded, although Jessie’s eyes were half asleep, she really preferred stories about kittens and cats to dragons; Fanny’s eyes, however, were full of princesses in pink dresses; Art’s eyes brimmed over with fire and steel-clashing battles.