‘Watch out,’ James muttered. ‘It’s a beak. This could be trouble.’

Cursing under his breath, he pulled over and got out of the car.

This was not turning out to be a good day after all.

The beak was driving a smart green Lagonda sports. He climbed out and slammed the door so hard the car rocked on its springs.

‘What on earth do you two boys think you’re doing?’ he shouted and James stopped on the pavement.

‘This is my aunt’s car,’ he said, trying to sound confident.

‘Explain yourself,’ said the beak.

‘It had to be moved, sir,’ James said, looking the beak straight in the eye. ‘It was causing an obstruction. I couldn’t find my aunt so I moved it for her.’

‘So just what exactly are you doing all the way over here in Windsor?’ There was a dangerous note of scorn in the man’s voice.

‘It was too crowded in Eton, sir,’ said James. ‘I’ve been driving around trying to find a decent space to park. I got lost… She lets me drive it, sir…’

James ran out of steam. He knew that his story sounded feeble, but it was all that he could think of in the time.

He looked at the master. He was younger than most, perhaps thirty, with an athletic build, and, despite his anger, he had a kind, open, face. He reminded James a little of the American film star Gary Cooper.

‘What is your name?’ said the beak. He was still fuming, but James could sense that he was calming down a little.

‘Bond. James Bond.’

‘Well, Mister Bond, this won’t do, will it?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Leaving aside the fact that you are too young to be driving a car, there is the reputation of the school at stake.’

‘Yes, sir, I know, sir, it was stupid of me. But the car was blocking a road and –’

‘So you say,’ the beak interrupted impatiently. ‘And who is that other boy with you? What is his involvement in all this?’

‘His name’s Mark Goodenough, sir, he’s –’

‘Goodenough?’ The beak appeared shocked, then his expression softened and he looked unsure of himself. He walked over to the car and saw the condition that Mark was in.

‘Are you all right, Mark?’ he said.

‘Yes, thank you, Mister Haight.’

James closed his eyes and let out a long slow breath. So the two of them knew each other. That might help.

Mr Haight leant over the car and put a hand on Mark’s shoulder. ‘I heard about the…’ he paused, searching for the right word, ‘accident. I’m very sorry.’

‘Thank you, sir. But I’m all right, really I am. Bond has been helping me, sir… I just…’ But Mark couldn’t go on. He broke down again and crumpled in his seat.

Mr Haight looked embarrassed. He glanced up and down the street, then made up his mind about something and walked over to James, out of earshot of Mark.

‘Listen to me, Bond. I don’t know what you two boys are up to, and maybe it’s for the best that I don’t try to find out, but I do know that Mark has had a nasty upset. So, as long as there’s no harm done, I’ll let you off this time.’ Haight stopped and nodded back towards the car. ‘How is he?’ he asked, gently.