‘Six. Listen, get the handkerchiefs out of your trousers. I’ll put them back before we forget.’

William reaches down the back of his trousers and pulls, but he grabs the waistband of his underpants by mistake. He cries out at the bite of pain.

‘I wish I wasn’t so pathetic!’

‘You’re not. You’re the best boy in this whole place, and in two weeks’ time, it won’t hurt any more, and you’re going to sing the solo of your life.’

‘No, I’m not.’

‘You’re kidding!’

Crying again, William shakes his head and suddenly, it’s Martin he hates. His stupid, selfish bed hop has lost William everything.

‘This is your fault. It’s all your fault!’

He still can’t get at the handkerchiefs, so he turns away from Martin to face the cubicle door and yanks his flies down. ‘Bloody hell, Martin!’ he says, again unsuccessfully trying to grab the fabric down his underpants. ‘You never said it would hurt this much!’

‘I’m sorry. I’d forgotten what a shock it is the first time.’ From behind, Martin gently pulls William’s waistband back. ‘Let me do it.’ He reaches inside William’s trousers. ‘Hold your breath a moment. It won’t hurt forever, I promise.’

In the brief second before the door flies open, William knows there’s someone outside, but there is no time to stop crying. Daylight floods the cubicle, and Charles and Anthony stand gaping at William’s twisted face, his open flies, Martin’s hand down his trousers.

‘Get off him!’ Charles shouts at Martin, and both boys start to pull William out of the cubicle.

‘I’m fine.’ William shakes them off. ‘Get lost!’

‘Anthony, go and tell a master!’ shouts Charles. Anthony looks at William and Martin as if needing their permission.

‘Don’t!’ says William, zipping up his flies. ‘I’m OK.’

‘He was hurting you!’ Charles is breathless. ‘We heard!’

‘If this gets back to the masters’ – William’s voice is surprisingly commanding – ‘I’ll make life hell for you. Understand?’

The boys look uncomfortable, glancing from Martin to William.

‘Tell them, William,’ Martin says quietly, ‘tell them I wasn’t hurting you.’

William sees it flit between the two boys; the thrill of thinking they’ve interrupted a forbidden act. He knows full well how quickly it will spread. How easy for all of them to believe that this is what their friendship has really been about these four years. William can see exactly how the next few months will go: the giggling, the knowing looks, the sudden quiet when they enter a room.

No, he decides, he simply won’t take it. It was Martin, not him, who caused all this. Quickly buttoning his waistband, he turns to Martin. ‘I’ve told them not to tell a master, isn’t that enough?’

A tap drips. Martin’s eyes fill, the first time William has ever seen that happen.