She told me the price and added: ‘It’s been renovated with great care, you see. Fitted kitchen, to the highest standards, and a really super luxury bathroom.’

I nodded in agreement. Then I put down the receiver.

I went to a pub near the seafront, drank a double scotch and ate a plate of Irish stew. That was that, then. No home today, warbled the juke box.

At 1.15 I climbed back into my coach and drove to the school.

Twenty-two

Twenty-two

I pulled up in front of the gates. I didn’t fancy being called a pervert, so I stayed in my coach. I had no plans; I just couldn’t think where else to sit, or what to do. I longed for a smoke; the pub had been purgatory.

There was nobody around. The school was set back from the road and at first it all looked quiet. The playground must be behind the building. A solitary car passed. I looked at my watch; it was two o’clock. They had probably gone back to their lessons, anyway.

Then I saw a man emerge from the school and march briskly towards the gates. He wore a tracksuit. As he came closer he looked at his watch, and quickened his pace. I watched him idly. He opened the gates; he had a whistle round his neck and to my surprise he came up to me and tapped on the window. I got up and opened the door.

‘What time do you call this?’ He looked at his watch again. His face was red and he was breathing heavily. ‘I can’t come with you, I’ve got to take Mr Slatterly in the car.’ He turned away and bellowed: ‘Boys!’

I looked beyond him, back towards the school. A crowd of boys in football gear was coming towards us.

‘Boys!’ he bellowed again.

The boys broke into a run. They came through the gates and before I could speak they started climbing into the coach.

He said to me: ‘See you at the field.’ Then he turned away and hurried back towards the school.

The boys were jostling and giggling. ‘Sod off, Eddie,’ said one, quite distinctly, as they made their way to their seats.

I froze. They clambered past me, chattering. I sat still, holding my breath. I caught various names. Someone else, I was sure, called out: ‘Ted! Over here!’

I didn’t dare turn round. I inspected them in the mirror. About thirty boys sat there.

I leaned across the aisle and asked the nearest boy: ‘What class are you?’

‘2b.’

I paused. ‘Yes, but how old does that make you?’

He gave me a superior look. ‘Nearly twelve,’ he said.

I hesitated, but only for a moment. Then I switched on the engine, revved up and pulled out into the road.