‘Actually we do.’ Connor begins to walk away but she falls into step beside him and so he stands still again, not wanting to turn up at the gates with her in tow.

‘Like what?’ she asks.

‘Mr Marshall – our head teacher – is ex-military and told us he had to learn to sew buttons on his uniform and stuff when he was stationed somewhere remote and one time he made us all learn. Told us real men were good with a needle and cotton.’

‘Ah. So you could totally rock that uniform. Make those blazers your own!’

‘Nah. Mr Marshall would have a fit,’ Connor says. ‘He’s pretty strict. Look, we really have to—’

‘One of those Ofsted league table obsessed ones, is he?’

‘Yeah. He’s always stressing about what people say about the school,’ Ryan says. Behind him Tyler is jerking his head towards the direction of the school, mouthing, ‘Let’s go.’ They try to sidle away but she jumps in with another question.

‘I guess it’s a reflection on him?’

‘Suppose.’ Connor knows what people are saying about the school since the trip. What they think of Mr Marshall’s supervisory skills. ‘He’s not that bad,’ Connor says, not sure where his sense of loyalty springs from. ‘He just…’ What. Have. You. Done. Boy? Eyes flashing hard and cruel. ‘Cares.’

‘You’d never get away with “the dog ate my homework” then?’ She laughs.

‘Has anybody got away with that, ever?’ Connor asks rhetorically.

‘I did! No really,’ she carries on as Connor looks at her in surprise. Now this he does want to hear. ‘I remember it so clearly. It was French and I hadn’t bothered to do the essay I was supposed to, so I told my teacher – Mrs Mira – that the dog ate my homework. At home time she marched up to the gates to where my mum was waiting with our pet poodle. ‘Is this the dog that ate an entire homework book?’ she demanded.

‘Busted!’ Tyler says.

‘You’d think, right? But no, Mum didn’t break eye contact as she said, “Yes, Tootsie did and I must say the notepaper you send the kids home with isn’t very good quality. It’s clogged up her bowels something awful.”’

The boys laughed. Their eagerness to ditch her momentarily forgotten.

‘I can’t imagine my mum lying for me, although she does for that waster she lives with,’ Tyler says.

‘At least he sticks around,’ Ryan mutters.

‘Your parents separated?’ She puts a hand on Ryan’s arm. He moves away from her, obviously uncomfortable, and doesn’t answer but still she says, ‘I’m sorry, that’s rough. What about you, Connor? Are your parents together?’

Connor wants to tell her to stop being so nosy but he can’t bring himself to be so rude when she’s being so friendly. ‘Yeah.’

‘Are they happy?’