He kicked off the sand and sat, hugging his knees. He rested his chin on his sandy knees and gazed at the sea. His eyes were grey.

‘You like cars?’ I asked.

He nodded. ‘Mum lets me steer our van, when nobody’s looking.’

‘I had Dinky cars.’

‘Got a remote-controlled Rover, it’s wik. But my little sister bust it.’

‘Sisters!’ I groaned in sympathy. I don’t know why, seeing as I hadn’t got one.

He pushed the sand around with his toe. His feet were pink with cold; they were surprisingly large. I watched him stirring the sand.

‘You like your school?’ I asked.

He shrugged. ‘It’s okay.’

We sat in silence. Far away I heard the cries of the boys, or perhaps it was the gulls. The breeze blew his hair. He had such thin, freckly arms; they were goose-pimpled with cold.

‘What’s your favourite comic?’ I asked.

‘Smash Hits.’

‘Smash Hits?’ I paused. ‘What about, oh, Beezer and Dandy?’

‘They’re for babies.’

Then he jumped up and joined the others.

I parked down the road, out of sight of the school, and told them to be quick. Giggling, they clambered down from the coach. To my surprise, it was still only 3.15.

‘That was synchical!’ one of them said to me.

‘What’s that mean?’ I asked.

‘Wik.’

Instead of mud, they were covered with sand. Their white shorts were streaked ochre. I watched them trot briskly up the road and disappear through the gates.

Edward was one of the last to leave. I gave him the football. He hesitated. ‘Go on,’ I said. ‘I don’t need it.’

He grinned, and took it.

Twenty-three

Twenty-three

I parked outside the hotel and sat in the coach for a moment, brushing the sand off my trousers. I turned. Now the boys were gone I could hardly believe they’d been here. But the seats were sandy and somebody had forgotten his sock; it lay there on the floor, looking chewed. The inside of my coach seemed enormous.

I felt blank. I couldn’t catch up with myself. I told myself what had happened: I’ve found my son at last. I’ve talked to him and he’s talked back. I’ve buried his feet.

When I went into the hotel they told me Miss Tucker had gone out again, but had left me a note. The manager asked if we were staying another night. I jumped, as if I’d been caught. A normal day was still going on; people were still sitting in offices. I wondered what was happening at the school, and. my neck felt hot.

‘We’ll stay,’ I said, simply because I couldn’t think where else I’d be.

The note said: Dear Desmond, Where are you, naughty boy? I’ve gone to Lesley’s house. Love Hilda X.