Max bragged about his job – despite the fire in his first shift – but now I landed one too. As I write this, I bet Naddie's polishing her resume in utter turmoil. Much like Max, my own job had come about by chance. My mum's best friend reached out in search of a babysitter for her five-year-old daughter.

Apparently, the mum works evening shifts at a pub, while the dad had been suddenly reassigned to night shift duty. I eagerly accepted the offer, the thought of extra cash exhilarating.

The first day, the father welcomed me with a frazzled look. ‘Hi!’ he said and ushered me in. ‘She was meant to be in bed, but she’s not. So, um, good luck with that, I need to get ready.’

And just like that, he disappeared into the bathroom.

How reassuring to learn that this five-year-old could apparently defeat a policeman. I didn’t know whether to be more alarmed by this newfound knowledge, or by the imminent encounter with this child.

Stepping into the uncharted territory of the living space, I caught sight of the little girl peeking at me through a gap in her bedroom door. Her eyes traced my every step.

‘Hello, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Corey,’ I said, putting on what I hoped was a non-threatening smile. It dawned on me that I had no experience with kids. In fact, my biggest responsibility in life thus far had been a house plant. It died.

The door creaked open a bit more. As curiosity won over shyness, we got a proper look at each other.

She was smaller than what I would expect from a five-year-old, bearing no resemblance to her father. But what caught my attention most was her buzz-cut hair – an unexpected look for a kid.

‘Are you a boy or a girl?’ she asked.

‘Does it matter?’

‘I guess not.’

Something fell over in the bathroom and broke in the silence. The father's swear words did not get censored by the thin wall.

‘I like your hair,’ I blurted out to ease the mood.

She patted her head mournfully. ‘It’s gone now. I tried to cut it myself and the hairdresser had to shave it off.’

‘Oh.’ I didn’t know what to say to that. Cheer her up? Change the subject?

Luckily, the dad emerged to say goodbye to his daughter, and handed me a list of instructions the mum had written down earlier. While leaving, he told me to call the police station if anything went wrong.

Witty.

I tucked the list away because it felt weird to read with her staring at me. This was so awkward. What should I do?

‘What’s your name?’ I asked.

‘Taarai,’ she mumbled.

‘That’s a pretty name! What kind of stories do you like for bedtime?’

‘Fairytales.’

I let out a sigh of relief and smiled. ‘What a coincidence. Did you know my head is full of fairytales? Stories about people and creatures in faraway lands. And maybe even one about a fairy who makes her imaginary friend real?’

She nibbled her thumb. ‘Is it scary? I don’t like the scary stories.’

‘Not at all,’ I said, mentally crossing out all the monsters. ‘Would you like to hear it?’

‘Yes, please,' she said, a huge grin spreading across her face.