Tommy had always thought his dad was ordinary. Just another parent who worked in an office, wore boring ties, and forgot to put the bins out on Tuesday mornings. But standing in the school corridor, watching his father hover three feet off the ground whilst trying to explain to Mrs Henderson why Tommy was late again, ordinary seemed like a distant memory.

"You see," Dad was saying, completely unaware that his feet weren't touching the floor, "Tommy's alarm clock has been playing up. Very unreliable, these modern gadgets." He gestured with his hands, which caused him to spin slowly in mid-air like a confused helicopter.

Mrs Henderson's mouth had fallen open so wide that Tommy was worried she might catch flies. Her clipboard trembled in her hands as she stared upwards at Dad, who was now examining the ceiling tiles with great interest.

"Fascinating architecture in these old schools," Dad continued cheerfully. "You don't see craftsmanship like this anymore." He reached out to touch a light fitting, which made him bob gently up and down.

Tommy felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment. This was exactly what he'd been dreading. Ever since Dad had started developing these strange abilities, Tommy had been living in fear of moments like this. At home, they could close the curtains and pretend everything was normal. But here, in front of his head teacher, there was nowhere to hide.

"Dad," Tommy whispered urgently, "you're doing it again."

His father looked down, noticed his predicament, and immediately dropped to the ground with a soft thud. "Ah," he said, straightening his tie and smiling apologetically at Mrs Henderson. "Sorry about that. I've been having terrible trouble with... er... static electricity lately."