"Honestly! It's not even lunchtime and already I'm dragged out of the studio!"

Phoebe listened to his boss rant in the passenger seat beside him as he drove across the London city centre in the Garden Lodge mercedes and to Johnny and Roshni's school, unable to think of anything helpful to say.

"Maybe you and Monica ought to be considering the possibility that Johnny has special needs or some kind of... syndrome" he timidly suggested.

"A syndrome? ...Probably SLG" he heard Freddie grouch.

"SLG?" Phoebe glanced over to him as he steered sharply around a bend.

"Yeah, Shitty Little Git syndrome" he spat, rolling down the window so that he could have a smoke.

"You probably shouldn't do that, we're almost there" Phoebe warned, ignoring his remark of disdain towards his own son.

Grumbling, Freddie stuffed his cigarettes back into the pocket of his navy blue bomber jacket  and continued to moodily stare out the window and into his reflection in the wing mirror, aggrivated that the one out of his two children that bore most physical resemblance to him was also the one with the most challenging behaviour.

"A challenge to everybody around him," he thought wistfully, "Just like me"

*****

The Headmaster's Office, St Barnabas Primary

"Thank you Ms Hadley and Ms Ashworth," Mr Armstrong, the headmaster of the school sat at his office desk, "You may head back to class"

Laura and Emilia-Anne stood back up off their seats after delivering their witness statements and silently exited the musty-smelling room as Mrs Greenwood, the middle-aged peroxic blonde in a dusky rose-coloured power suitwho also happened to be the vice principal of St Barnabas primary, stepped aside and opened the door disguised as one of many wall-to-wall bookshelves for them.

Johnny Bulsara sat in one chair in front of Mr Armstrong's desk, Sarah Aldred in the other next to him, both not permitted to speak and being stared down at by the fat old man in a tweed jacket invading his personal space.

Mr Armstrong never really liked the Bulsara twins. Johnny always seemed to have mischeif playing on his face, as  if he was plotting something, and it was no wonder with all the tales that he'd been hearing about him in the staffroom. As for the girl who had a name he couldn't pronounce, she didn't really speak or play with anybody unless it was with her scamp of a brother.

"Well, I have to say that is appalling, Johnny. I expected better from a bright little boy like you." Mrs Greenwood returned to the desk, using a tone on him that wasn't harsh and demeaning, but she was still good at making him feel ashamed at his behaviour when her kind, mature face formed into a frown.

Johnny didn't find it fair at all. Sarah was wearing his sister's favourite hair clip, and there was no other possible way that she could've gotten her hands on it other than theft.

"Bright? You're being too easy on him, Mrs Greenwood," the headmaster lifted a pen as he continued filling out the behavioral incident report, "Mrs Hemmings tells me that Johnny keeps sneaking into her music closet at lunch... to create a racket like his father, no doubt!"

"My dad's music is not a racket!" Johnny spoke up as he got up off his chair, feeling insulted.

"Sit down and don't talk until your mum gets here, alright?" Mrs Greenwood intervened in time and lowered him back down in the chair.

"But he insulted my dad's music!" he looked up at her.

She shushed him, "Mr Armstrong's old ears are not used to new music like Queen"

"Quite right, Mrs Greenwood. My tastes lie in Tchaikovsky and... Debussy" He balanced his reading glasses on his nose, and his desk rotary telephone started to ring.

"But daddy likes them too!" Johnny told Mrs Greenwood, who simply put her finger to her lips and signal him to be quiet.

The boy crossed his arms and stared at his lap and waited as Mr Armstrong answered:

"Yes... What? The boy's father is here? ...And he's brought his PA? But why can't his mother come in?"

"Oh no, not dad!" Johnny felt an awful shiver sear through him.

He always found his mum easier to let down than him, and he couldn't explain why other than that Monica wouldn't ever stop speaking to him if he did something bad. Instead, she always made sure him and his sister understood that whatever they did was wrong and that it was set right again.

"But he will draw attention to the school grounds, distract the children from their work!" Mr Armstrong fretted, "...Ahh I see, it's all the jobs that women can do these days... very well then, send them in. Thank you, bye."

As he sat awaiting the knock on the door with dread, Johnny's hands grew clammy as they gripped onto the sides of his chair, nowhere near ready to confront his dad.

"Just don't look at his face if you have to... that's always the worst part"

He listened as it eventually came, and a familiar pair of foosteps entered the room.

"Hello, I'm Mister Freestone, Mr Mercury's assistant. I believe we've met before" He heard Phoebe mutter to the head teachers.

"Please, take a seat behind them" Mrs Greenwood offered, shutting the office door after them.

Phoebe went to sit down,  and Johnny could feel his father's disappointed gaze hitting him as he heard him walk behind him. As for Sarah, butterflies were in her stomach, for she was in the same room as a celebrity, but she did hope that her first encounter with a famous person would've been more special.

When Freddie was told that his son pulled a girl's hair in the school playground, he was expecting the girl sitting in the chair next to him to be around his age or in his class, not a prepubescent child.

"Now, since your dad and his helper are now here, do you want to explain why you pulled Ms Aldred's hair this morning?" Mr Armstrong folded his hands on his desk.

Johnny refused to meet his dad's eyes behind him as thousands upon thousands of possible answers swam in his head now that he was being permitted to speak, but he could only give one.

"Well, Johnny?" Mrs Greenwood spoke up.

"She has Roshni's hair clip. Look!" He pointed to Sarah Aldred's head.

"Yes, you have said that already, Johnny. That's also what we are trying to deal with" the vice assured him.

Perplexed, Freddie looked closer at the familiar Disney-themed hair accessory tying the girl's hair back, as did Phoebe.

Mr Armstrong was about to speak when the boy's rockstar father stood up off his seat to inspect it, speaking for the first time since he entered that room, "...I say, that does resemble something that my daughter would wear-"

"That's because it is hers!" Phoebe cut across him when he realised, "I put it in her hair after she specifically requested it this morning!"

Sarah sat frozen like a deer in the headlights.

"Told you!" Johnny folded his arms.

"Let's not complicate things and get back to the reason why we're all here" Mr Armstrong said.

"But it is part of the reason," Mrs Greenwood argued, and turned to to Sarah, "Where or how did you get that clip?"

"Uhh, I found it in the playground at breaktime" she lied nervously, for she glanced behind her to discover Mr Mercury was giving her a hard stare.

"Well, why didn't you hand it over to lost property?" Mrs Greenwood folded her arms.

"Becuase I-I... it belongs to me now!" Sarah argued.

All eyes were on her now as her cheeks redenned.

"But Sarah? If Roshni does own it, she could be very upset and looking for it" the teacher explained.

"Alright, I didn't find it, she gave it to me!" Sarah declared out of desperation as she settled back down in her seat.

"Oh, for heaven's sake" Freddie grumbled lowly.

"But Roshni is very fond of that clip, I don't understand why she would give it away." Phoebe spoke up, "She requested to wear it this morning when I was brushing her hair"

"Now now, let's not go off on a tagent" Mr Armstrong tried to say.

Sarah told her story, "I know she likes it, but you see, Roshni and I... we are the best of friends, and I don't want to ruin our friendship because Johnny-"

"I've never seen you play with my sister in my life!" Johnny shouted across her.

"Shut up and stop making this more difficult than it already is, Johnny!" The headmaster ordered, and the boy dropped his jaw.

"I BEG YOUR PARDON!" Freddie suddenly boomed, storming towards his desk as the office turned silent.

"Calm down, Fred!" Phoebe leapt after him and grabbed his arm in time.

Freddie gripped onto the edge of the desk as he clenched his jaw shut, staring at the man sitting in front of him square in the face. Not even a minute had passed and already he was losing his temper.

"You do not tell my son to shut up!" He lowly hissed, "Don't you see that he was only trying to do the right thing?"

"Mr Mercury, I am just doing my job! I ask that you restrain yourself in front of the children in the room, including your own." The head ordered, expressionless as he sat in his upholstered chair, unphased.

The children in the room sat still, Johnny whispering as he felt tears of frustration in his eyes, "Daddy, please stop"

Freddie breathed in slowly through his nostrils and composed himself, letting Phoebe walk him back to his chair. His children's school was the last place to unleash his rage.

"Why don't we ask Roshni if it's true that she gave Sarah her hair clip? Seeing there is obviously two sides to this story" Mrs Greenwood suggested calmly.

"Thank god somebody's got a good idea" Freddie thought.

"But she gave it to me!" Sarah grew defensive.

"That clip was a gift from Michael Jackson. I don't see why she'd give it away... you can't get clips like that anywhere else in the world" Freddie shook his head.

"Maybe that's why she took it!" Johnny said, but was quickly shushed down by Phoebe.

"I'm going to Roshni's classroom to bring her in to clear up this mess" Mrs Greenwood stood up.

"If you insist Mrs Greenwood, be my guest. But I don't see the point if half the school, including Sarah's close chums, saw what happened" Mr Armstrong sighed.

At that moment Phoebe was the only one who noticed Sarah open her mouth in protest as the vice calmly exited the office.

"My son's not going to be suspended for this, is he?" Freddie asked with dread.

The headmaster shook his head, letting out a sly "If only" under his breath.

"Any form of punishment at all?" Phoebe calmly asked.

"Well, as far as I'm concerned this behaviour qualifies for Johnny to be sent home for the school day and let off with a warning," he straightened up the behavioural incident report in his hand, "But I am afraid that he won't be allowed to partake in this coming Friday afternoon's activities"

Johnny was happy that he was getting off early, but still protested, "That's not fair! She's got my sister's-"

"Just do as Mr Bumwhimp says, Johnny!" Freddie was losing his patience.

"Mr Armstrong, if you please" the headmaster grit his teeth, everybody in the room trying to hold back their laughter.

Johnny's lip trembled, but he sucked in a breath and kept his tongue still.

"Johnny, pulling a girl's hair and trying to tackle her to the ground is unacceptable behaviour, do you understand?" Mr Armstrong  made it clear to him.

Phoebe added, stretching over and rubbing his head, "You ought to be more polite if you want to confront someone in the future"

Johnny folded his arms, staring at his feet.

"Do you understand, Johnny?" Freddie rose his voice coolly, annoyed that he was dragged out of his personal venture in the studio for his son's behaviour.

"...Yes, dad" he answered unwillingly.

"I think you owe Sarah an apology, don't you?" Mr Armstrong glanced in the girl's direction.

He nodded sullenly, head still down as he muttered, "Sorry, Sarah"

"Pardon me, I didn't quite catch that" the headmaster pressed, and Freddie passed Phoebe an eye roll.

Johnny was about to raise his voice as Mrs Greenwood rushed back in, "Roshni's not in class!"

Sarah was the only one out of the whole group who didn't seem surprised. If anything, she was scared because she was about to be found out.

"Well, I am sure the girl's just gone to the toilet, ask her later," Mr Armstrong stood up off his chair and handed Freddie the behavioural incident report, "Now, I need you to sign here so that you understand the extent of your child's misconduct"

Freddie reluctantly took the pen out of his hand, and leaned down to sign the form as Phoebe took Johnny's wrist as he got up off his chair.

"Mrs Greenwood, could you please take Sarah back to her class and get Mr Bulsara's things from his classroom? Then unlock the front gate for Mr Mercury with your copy of the key, we will meet you out there" Mr Armstrong instructed.

"Not until she takes that Mickey Mouse clip off and hands it over" the woman stated adamantly.

"Very well" the headmaster sighed, waiting for Freddie to hand the document back, but he was deliberately taking his time reading through each page...

"But Roshni gave it to me!" Sarah insisted once again.

Freddie was rather tempted to rip it out of the girl's hair at this point, but kept his fists clenched by his sides, just glad that she was getting what she deserved.

"Hand it over now and I will sort it out with Roshni later on. If she says that she did give it to you, then you can keep it" Mrs Greenwood assured Sarah, and she reluctantly took the plastic red diamante clip out of her hair and put it in the woman's open palm.

The vice nodded in approval, and lead the girl out of the office. Sarah gave Johnny Bulsara one final glare, to which he gave a cheery wave and a smug smile.

"It looked silly on her anyway... holding back those messy bangs" Freddie snarled, not caring how loud he was.

"I still don't understand why Roshni would give it away" Phoebe leaned over and whispered into his ear.

"I can't be arsed finding that out now," Freddie murmured back as he continued to read, "Let's just get this over with and figure out how we're going to tell Monica when we get home"

Johnny turned to Phoebe and started tugging at the sleeve of his fleece, to which he leaned down to him so that his ear was level with his mouth, "Yes?"

"Is daddy going to talk to me in his Clint Eastwood voice from now on?" Johnny asked him sullenly.

Freddie paused momentarily as he listened in, "I don't sound like him when I'm pissed off, do I?"

Phoebe chuckled slightly and ruffled his brown bowl hair, "I don't know. But you do need to understand that you were wrong to pull that girl's hair"

"I was only trying to get her clip back," tears welled in his eyes., "...and now I can't make daddy un-disappointed in me"

"It won't last... it just means he knows that you're better than that" Phoebe softly explained.

Then, what Johnny said next made Freddie feel guilty about calling him a 'shitty little git' on the car journey to the school.

"...What if mummy and daddy just want another baby to replace me?" He stared into space, "A baby that'll behave better?"

"Now, why on earth would you ever think that?" Freddie suddenly asked, using the most gentle tone he could.

"Because... I know I'm difficult," Johnny rubbed tears from his eyes with his sleeve, "It doesn't matter what I do, somebody says it's always wrong"

The boy seemingly knew himself better that Freddie realised, and it was almost as if he was longing to do the right thing no matter how hard he tried. Freddie looked to Mr Armstrong waiting at his desk, seemingly tuned out and immeresed in the current issue of Radio Times.

So, setting the document aside and bending down to his son, Freddie sincerely whispered to him, "While you're a little rough around the edges Johnny, I'm proud to have a you and your sister as my son and daughter, and not that stuck-up brat for a child"

"You mean it?" looking back up at him with big, woeful brown eyes.

Freddie nodded as he affectionately pat his son on the cheek, then stood back up and turned around to face Mr Armstrong, "Can I just sign this thing now then?"

The headmaster set his magazine down on his desk and stepped out from behind his desk, "Whenever you're ready"

At last, Freddie scribbled his name onto the document and passed it back, "I'm sorry about this... when his mother gets home, we'll make sure nothing like this happens again"

"Quite right," he put the file into the cabinet behind him, "If he does it again in the future it could lead to expulsion"

"What does that mean?" Johnny whispered to Phoebe as they started to follow Mr Armstrong out the door.

"It means you'll have to leave school" he answered quietly.

"Yay!" the child squeaked.

"No, Johnny. That's bad!" Freddie warned him, his hiss echoing in the corridor.

"Phoebe, can I watch TV and eat Ice Cream when I get home?" Johnny asked.

"No, your mum will go mad" he answered.

"She will have more to be mad about" Freddie glanced to him over his shoulder.

"But she lets us watch TV and eat ice cream when we get off school!" Johnny argued.

"Yeah, when you're sick!" Phoebe looked away from him as he guffawed a little.

As he stayed on the head teachers' trail, all that Freddie could worry about was how he was going to tell Monica that their son had crossed the line. She deserved to be able to come home from work at the end of the school day without having anything gone wrong.

The four walked out the double doors and down the front steps and out onto the school playground where Mrs Greenwood was standing waiting in front of the opened gate, Johnny's schoolbag and coat in hand.

"Thank you very much" Phoebe nodded to her as she helped him put them on.

"We better get home soon and beat the rain, Phoebe" Freddie looked up at the overcast sky as he felt a breeze picking up.

At that moment, children inside the classrooms facing the front were gathering at the windows and pressing their faces to the glass, catching a glimpse of the rockstar standing in their school playground.

"Oh god, they've seen me" Freddie rummaged through his pocket for his sunglasses.

Mr Armstrong slapped his hand onto his back, "Not to worry, Mr Mercury. We'll get you out of here as soon as we-"

"Wait, I can hear something" All of a sudden, Phoebe hushed everyone down as Mrs Greenwood was about to open the gate wide.

"Hear what?!" Freddie turned to him irritably.

Phoebe thought that he could hear a child's voice in the distance, but he'd be more sure if it weren't for the janitor riding the lawn mower a hundred yards away on the grass was already causing noise pollution.

"Mr Freestone?" Mr Armstrong watched as Phoebe, holding Johnny's hand, started pacing towards the teacher's car park.

"Phoebe, what are you doing?" Freddie followed close behind.

"Listen closely, do you hear it?" He stopped at the corner.

Even though Freddie's hearing was poorer from years of performing at loud concerts, he could now understand what Phoebe was talking about; the faint sound of banging on a door coming from the direction of the back of the school building.

"I hear it too!" Johnny said.

"So do I!" Mrs Greenwood followed.

"I think it might be a good idea to get you all out of the playground. Your presence is distrupting their lessons!" Mr Armstrong acknowledged more attention from the dinner ladies cooing in excitement as they stood at the canteen window, gawking at Freddie Mercury.

But he ignored him as they tried to listen for where the banging and crying was coming from, drifting towards the teacher's car park as the knocking increased in volume, Freddie's stomach growing more unsettled by the second.

"There!" Johnny saw the small green-painted coalshed about several dozen feet away as the heavy duty bar across the door rattled furiously.

"Mr Armstrong, I think think that a child is in there!" Mrs Greenwood stuffed her keys back into her pocket and started rushing ahead as fast as her heeled shoes would let her.

"But the teacher's car park is off-limits!" He sprinted after her.

"Poor thing," Freddie callously grumbled to Phoebe as they intuitively followed, "I tell you, this school really does have its problems."

Phoebe shrugged, "I think we ought to see this before we go... this has been an odd day for you so far, hasn't it Johnny?"

"Yeah" the boy watched the head teachers in fascination.

"My being here just might freak the child out a little more," Freddie mused, then mimicked, "'I got locked in a shed and when I came back out Freddie Mercury was standing in my school playground', oh yes, that'd make a good headline in 20 years alright"

But he wasn't joking for long, because when they reached the shed, behind the door a familiar voice screamed in distress, turning things from bad to worse:

"Help! ... Let me out! I want my mummy!! ...Mummy! Daddy! Phoebe!! I want-"

"Roshni?!" Freddie's heart immediately sunk when he put two and two together, realising that the 'poor thing' was in fact his.

"Daddy?! It's me!" she responded

"Oh god, no... no" Phoebe covered his mouth in horror as the the colour drained from the teachers' faces, their minds drawing a blank.

Seeing nothing but red, Freddie blubbered, "Roshni, is that-is that really you in there?!"

"Daddy!! Daddy, get me out!" She wailed desperately, the door rattling repeatedly.

"SOMEBODY HELP ME LIFT THIS DAMN THING!!" He roared in panic as he tried to heave the bar across upward, tears of fury streaming down his face.

Phoebe intervened to slip beside him and help, utterly panicked. Johnny was restrained by Mrs Greenwood as Mr Armstrong watched on, completely baffled.

Freddie and his assistant threw the bar to the ground with a thud and stepped back. As the green door swung open, out ran the black haired little girl with a sooty school uniform and tear-stained cheeks.

After that it was a bad memory. Freddie's mind was a blur as he fell to his knees and collided with his daughter, rocking back and forth as he held Roshni close against him with all the strength he had, the world seemingly slowing down as he felt nothing but anger and betrayal towards the man of authority standing behind him.

"My baby, my baby, my baby... daddy's got you..." he couldn't hear his own breathless voice speaking into her ear with trembling lips as she gripped onto him and sobbed into his shoulder.

"What happened?!" Johnny asked an unnerved Mrs Greenwood, confused and frightened.

Once the panic was over and he was sure she was safe and sound, Freddie pulled away and wiped the tears from Roshni's cheeks, "Who did this to you?! How long were you stuck in there for?!"

She shook her head a she shivered against the cold wind, her blue eyes wide in terror, still too shaken to form a sentence.

"We need to get her inside and go back to the headmaster's office!" Mrs Greenwood said.

"How did her teacher not see her in the classroom?!" Outraged, Phoebe frantically took his chequered fleece jacket off and put it around her.

Mr Armstrong was puzzled, "I must say, I don't understand how she got in there-"

"I want answers!" Freddie barked as he bent back down to Roshni, zipping Phoebe's fleece up.

The headmaster fumbled, "Well, maybe I ought to tell the janitor to put a padlock on the-"

"For the love of god, what use will a padlock do?!" The man was fuming.

"How did you get in there, Roshni?" Mrs Greenwood asked.

"T-That big girl and her friends took my hair clip... the one shaped like mickey mouse" the trembling girl managed to let out.

"This one?" the vice held the plastic dimante barette up.

"That's it! Yes!" Roshni made grabby hands towards it.

"I was right!" Johnny cheered triumphantly as the vice handed it back.

Freddie cooed as he bent down pinned it back in her hair, "There, you have it back now... now, what do you say?"

"T-Thank you for giving me my clip back" Roshni stammered.

Mrs Greenwood forced a smile amidst the chaos, "You're welcome", but when she saw how unamused the head teacher was, she cleared her throat and started doing her job, "Now, tell Mr Armstrong and I how you got into the coal shed, Roshni."

"Go on, darling," Freddie whispered, rubbing her head and smoothing her hair back from her filthied face, "Tell them the truth, it's alright"

Roshni anxiously looked back up at him, then to the head teachers, and blubbered, "Those girls took my clip and told me that I'd get it back after a game of h- hide and seek... they never came back!"

Mrs Greenwood murmured, "So, she was lying? You didn't give it to her after all?"

Roshni shook her head, "She snatched it from me!"

"Mr Armstrong, Sarah and Laura and Emilia-Anne must be punished for this" The vice muttered as she turned to the head.

"Emilia-Anne... what a blue-blooded name" a snide voice spoke in Freddie's head.

Mr Armstrong's voice, on the other hand, wasn't quiet or low enough, for the wind carried his conversation with Mrs Greenwood to Freddie's ear, listening to everything the headmaster said  as he felt his blood boiling.

"Well, I don't think we should be taking any action. After all, generations of Sarah's banking family is on our board of governors and have all raised funds down the years."

"Phoebe, take them both to the car, I'll follow!" Freddie suddenly demanded, gently pushing his daughter to the man.

"Are you sure?" he felt in his trouser pocket for the keys to the mercedes.

"Yes! Just park at the gate!" he glanced to the front of the playground.

"If you're sure you don't need me. Come on then, you two" Phoebe took them both by the hand.

But Freddie was sure he'd be fine on his own. Sarah Aldred's garbled-up stories were all making sense now. And he was going to find a way to deal with it.

"Bye bye, Mrs Greenwood!" Johnny waved at her as he walked away on one side of Phoebe, Roshni lagging behind slightly on the other, and made sure to stick his tongue out at Mr Armstrong before Phoebe coaxed him to turn back around and be polite.

"Ahh, Johnny's charm" Freddie watched as Mrs Greenwood waved back and giggled, calling after him, "Behave yourself, Johnny!"

Then he stared directly into the stomach-churning pork scratching face with greasy grey hair and a tweed jacket.

Freddie began, seething with rage as he repeated Mr Armstrong's words, "'Sarah's banking family'... You're using that against punishing that thieving little bitch for hurting my daughter and scamming her out of something valuable, just like her family probably does to hundreds of people?!"

Phoebe and the twins stopped at the open front gate when they heard Freddie begin to shout.

Mr Armstrong struggled to speak, "Mr Mercury! Please do not use that language -"

"Shut it, you impertinent old fart!" He barked, proving that his speaking chops were just as loud and clear as his singing voice, "I'm no longer sending my children to a school where their biased headmaster can't even discipline fairly because he cares more about its reputation than care and education!"

"He's telling him off!" Johnny watched on, enthralled as his father pushed past his headmaster.

Then he pointed to Mrs Greenwood, "I hope she gets your job one day! It'd teach you and the board of governers a thing or two about equality and fairness!"

The two teachers stood dumbstruck, and they didn't try to stop Freddie Mercury as he spun around and marched away to join his spectating children waiting at the gate...

"I hope you're ready to face all the paper work" Phoebe held his breath as he opened the gate for them.

But Freddie shot him a glare that said, 'Do you want to lose your job as well?' before taking Johnny and Roshni by the hand.

The walk down the pavement and back to the car parked around the corridor was a silent one, with just the clicking of shutters from the cameras of prying paparazzi in the distance. Nontheless, Freddie looked sharply ahead, tight-lipped as he walked as briskly as he could.

"That's it," Freddie finally spoke once the parked mercedes was in view, "You two aren't going to that school anymore"

Johnny's eyes lit up, "Does this mean I don't have to go to school ever again?"

"Oh no no no, we're finding you both somewhere as soon as we can..." Freddie murmured as Phoebe unlocked the boot.

"Oh no! Where?!" The boy's face fell.

"Anywhere that can handle you is good enough for your mum and I, Johnny Bulsara" He looked back down at his son sternly before shooting him a wink, and opening the back door for him.

"Promise this one won't have another Mr Bumwhimp?" Johnny said as he climbed onto his booster seat.

"I'm glad you remembered me calling him that, my boy... And I can't guarantee, but I'll try" Freddie sighed, and slammed the door shut once Phoebe was done putting his seatbelt on.

Roshni sat in her seat with her head down, still shaken from being locked up in the cold darkness and thinking that she was never going to get out again, her arms too short for Phoebe's fleece jacket tucked around her.

"She looks just like Monica when she's been hurt" Freddie remarked the vacant look on his daughter's face as he rubbed her head gently to put her at ease.

Nontheless, the sound of the car engine starting was his cue to get in, so he slammed the door and got into the passenger side.

"Let's get the hell away from that mouldy old building," Freddie reached to the control panel to switch the radio on, and turned up Classic FM as the car started to move.

"Well done for giving that awful Mr Bumwhimp a rightful bollocking" Phoebe murmured so that the children didn't hear him curse.

"He deserved it, the wrinkly sod... if felt good to let off some steam." Freddie stared ahead at the traffic.

"...So, work? Or home?" he asked, as he was approaching the road that'd take him towards the recording studio.

Freddie turned to face the back seat, "Right, who wants to...watch TV and eat Ice Cream when we get home?"

"YES!" His son cheered, and his daughter finally smiled for the first time since she came out of the shed.

Phoebe giggled, "Monica will go mad when she comes home"

But his joke dampened Freddie's new found joy. When she got home from work in several hours time he didn't know how he was going to explain to her the drama that had occured in the past ten minutes, all started by the tacky Mickey Mouse clip now pinned back in his daughter's hair.

He had one thing to be thankful to Michael Jackson for.