Nate and Joey’s stares drove into me. Mr Farley tossed the two packets of cigarettes from the bag across the field, but said nothing. He reached in again, withdrawing a hip-sized bottle of vodka, two-thirds consumed. ‘Christ, boys,’ he said. He shook out the last few items in the bag. A pack of Rizla, some torn train tickets and a tiny plastic pouch of greenery dropped to the ground. Mr Farley peeled the little bag open and sniffed. ‘Cannabis,’ he said to Mr Clark.

‘Want to tell me whose this is?’ Mr Farley asked, holding the empty Nike bag aloft.

They said nothing. Amit took a step away from the other three, but made no excuses. The noise had woken everybody else. They watched from outside their tents.

‘This trip is over,’ Mr Farley said, addressing all of us. ‘Minibus, fifteen minutes. And, as for you four, I’ll be leaving you to the head.’

He shrugged his shoulders as he walked towards me. ‘No weapons, Ollie. I’m going to take a walk to the river, see what’s down there. I’ll be getting to the bottom of this. But they’re in deep shit now whatever. Get yourself a hot shower, quick as you can. You can ride up front with me on the way back.’

It took just minutes for what I’d told Mr Farley and Mr Clark to make it round the class. As I left the shower block, I came face to face with Nate. I backed into the wall. He looked even paler than usual.

‘What are you doing, Morcombe?’ he said. His eyes were wide as if he was in shock. ‘This is crazy. What are you playing at?’

I glared back at him.

‘What is fucking wrong with you?’ he demanded, turning his open palms towards me.

My eyes followed the movement of his hands, expecting him to swing at me at any second. But he just stood there, demanding an answer. I slipped sideways and hurried away. He didn’t follow.

Amit caught me up as I approached the minibus. ‘Mate, you’ve really fucked up here,’ he said. ‘You’ve fucked up big time.’ He wrenched at my elbow as I walked past him. ‘They never left the tent, Ollie. I was right by the door. No way they got past without waking me up. Why bullshit about something like that? They’ll kill you for it, mate.’

I took up Mr Farley’s offer of the front seat in the minibus on the return journey. A bench seat for three, there was easily room for Mr Clark as well. But he slammed the passenger door and rode in the back with the class instead.

For the drugs, there was talk of permanent exclusion for the four of them. In the end, with GCSEs looming, they were given a week’s suspension each, with the threat of expulsion if they stepped out of line again.