Dr Obisanya stops scribbling in his notepad. ‘So, what were the circumstances that led to Oliver’s admission?’

This gets discussed at every conference. And I hold my breath every time.

‘I understand that Oliver was being bullied at school,’ Dr Gale says. ‘He became certain that he would be murdered on the last day of term. He was also of the belief that his classmates were intent on burning down the home he shares with his grandfather.’

Gramps gives me a solemn smile. ‘If only I’d known,’ he says to no one in particular. ‘I could have done something to make him feel safe.’

Dr Gale carries on without looking up. ‘Oliver was also of the belief that he was in a relationship, and that the young lady had been – and would go on being – sexually assaulted by his peer group.’

That’s the bit that always kills me. Her talking about how I thought I was in a relationship. How I met a gorgeous girl once, spent a wonderful hour chatting to her, and subsequently believed she became my girlfriend – that I loved her, that she loved me. They assure me such a thing is not an unusual delusion, but it still sounds pretty tragic to me.

‘It’s hard to imagine the stress you were under,’ Dr Obisanya says.

Dr Gale nods. ‘The alarm was raised after Miss Morgan here found Oliver’s behaviour at school to be increasingly concerning. We should be grateful that at least somebody was on the ball. He was eventually found hiding beneath a temporary classroom. It became apparent, after his admission, that he believed there had been some sort of explosion on the school grounds. It was weeks into his treatment before Oliver would even entertain the possibility that no such explosion had occurred.’

‘Do you mind if I speak for a moment?’ Silver Foxton asks.

I daren’t look at him. Could this be it?

‘Be my guest,’ Dr Gale says, with a look that says, This better be good.

He turns to face me, bent forward with his hands pressed together between his knees. ‘Oliver, we at Five Oaks, and I personally, have let you down.’

A long breath escapes me. I’m in the clear.

‘It has since come to my attention,’ he goes on, ‘that you had been subjected to a culture of bullying and threats. We had a duty of care to you that we did not deliver.’ His eyes sweep over the room, but no one so much as blinks. ‘The sad truth is, time was when we had a lot more resources at our disposal, resources that would likely have prevented this whole sorry situation. We had nursing staff trained in mental health; we had a pastoral-care structure that was fit for purpose. Christ, we had special-needs staff, librarians, classroom assistants – you name it, we used to have it. The funds aren’t there these days.’