‘Not really my cup of tea,’ said Alan. ‘But thank you.’

‘Didn’t see you as the stiff-upper-lip type,’ said Mr Lincoln mockingly.

Alan let the comment slide, unwilling to be drawn into a conversation with the deputy, who he didn’t much like. Mr Lincoln was among the handful of staff that spoke to Alan in a way that made him feel subservient and lacking. By way of payback he always put those teachers’ names to the bottom of his list if any of them wanted jobs doing.

‘Well, the offer stands should you change your mind,’ said Mrs Pullman.

She looked weary, the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth more pronounced than usual. Her hair, although cropped short and its natural grey, looked lank. The boy’s death must be weighing heavy on her heart and mind, thought Alan. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t her fault or that there was nothing she could’ve done to prevent it, he knew as head teacher she would feel responsible regardless. It made him feel even guiltier about what he was facilitating in the Pavilion.

‘Trust me, I won’t. Are the police going to be here today?’ he asked.

‘I think they’ll be popping in and out. It sounds like they’ve exhausted their search of the grounds, though.’

Alan’s stomach flip-flopped.

‘The grounds? I thought they were only checking the building site where it happened.’

‘That’s what I meant by grounds,’ said Mrs Pullman.

‘Right. Well, I should get on,’ said Alan, feeling more reassured.

The head nodded. ‘Thank you for coming in today, Alan, I do appreciate it. But if at any point you feel you’d like to go home, that’s absolutely fine. Just come and see me.’

He said he would, then excused himself and set off for his office below ground.

Paranoia made him double-check everything – the lock on his door to see if it had been forced open, the files on his computer to see if they’d been accessed, even whether his private stash of coffee had been tampered with. Everything about his office looked exactly as it should, with no signs of interference, yet still Alan couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been inside, poking around.

He checked the list of jobs he’d been forced to abandon on Tuesday. Most were simple to rectify, such as a radiator cover coming loose in one of the classrooms and a toilet door that kept jamming. He then accessed the email account he’d set up on the school system for teachers to message him with repair requests and wasn’t surprised to find none had been sent in the past two days.

He decided to tackle the radiator cover first. His tools were secured in an outbuilding so after locking his office behind him he headed outdoors.