‘I only met your wife on a few occasions,’ Graham continued. ‘She was a lovely lady.’

‘The best,’ said Dave, his voice cracking slightly as his fingers crept on to the desk as if they too needed support.

Call Me Graham swallowed back the tears that were rising in his throat. He refused to let them out. After everything Dave Hooper had lost, it would be insulting to cry in front of him.

‘I would like to assure you that we are doing everything in our power to assist the authorities in finding Elliot,’ Call Me Graham continued. ‘We will do anything we can to help.’

‘If your school had done more to help, we might not be here,’ said Dave Hooper softly, his eyes meeting Graham’s for the first time. The pain they revealed was almost unbearable. This man didn’t need a headmaster. He needed a human being.

‘I . . . I . . . I am so, so sorry,’ Graham said softly. He reached over the desk and placed his hand over Dave’s.

Dave drew a sharp breath. He pulled his hand away.

‘I – I just need to understand,’ he said eventually. ‘How did you not realize? How did Elliot keep Josie’s . . . condition a secret from you all for so long? Surely you must have known?’

‘Mr Hooper, I can assure that the moment we discovered Mrs Hooper’s illness, we took immediate steps to safeguard your son,’ Graham gabbled. ‘But, as we all now know, the gentleman we believed to be you—’

‘Wasn’t me,’ Dave said. ‘I know. I have no idea what has been going on. And right now, I don’t care. I just want my son back.’

‘Of course,’ Graham said softly.

A hammering on the door broke the steely tension in the room. Even though Graham knew who was on the other side, for once he was grateful for his arrival.

‘Ah – that’ll be Mr B-boil,’ stammered the headmaster. ‘I’ve called him in as I’m hoping he may be able to shed some light. Come in!’

The door swung open and Mr Boil staggered in. Graham was taken aback – even though Mr Boil was hardly the most . . . highly groomed of individuals, he was looking terrible. None of his chins was shaved, his clothes were dirty and his customary vegetable-soup odour was stronger than ever – and the vegetables had clearly gone off.

‘Mr Boil, this is Mr Hooper. Elliot’s father,’ Graham began.

Boil sneered in Dave’s direction. Graham was mortified. He could feel a long-forgotten sensation bubble up in his chest. He tried to ignore it. There were more important matters at hand.

‘Mr Boil, thank you for joining us on your day off,’ Graham began.

‘Not like I had much choice,’ complained Boil.

Graham winced.