‘Um, hi,’ said Tamsin, feeling stupidly awkward in the face of this unexpected beauty. ‘Sorry to bother you – but do you know when Cal— I mean, Mr Dempster’s – Greek class finishes tonight?’

The boy checked his watch, an obvious affectation that made Tamsin smile.

‘Well, it was meant to finish at seven pee em, but actually it’s been cancelled,’ he said. ‘Everyone else’s mum came to get them at normal home-time but my mum never picks up her phone so I just have to wait.’

‘Cancelled? How come? I mean – do you know where Mr Dempster is?’

The boy stood up straight and looked at her properly for the first time. A mischievous grin broke out across his face. ‘So are you Sir’s girlfriend then?’

Tamsin smiled. ‘How did you guess?’

‘Oh,’ said the boy with deliberate airiness, ‘he showed us a picture of you yesterday. A really nice one.’

Tamsin was doubly flattered – that Callum had wanted to show her to his students, and that this beautiful boy had been impressed. ‘Which photo was that?’ she asked.

‘On the beach,’ said the boy. Grinning widely, he sauntered off on his way to the changing rooms.

Tamsin walked slowly back to her position under the tree, wondering what all this could mean. She had almost dismissed his behaviour as childish nonsense when it hit her. On the beach.

The only photographs Callum had taken of her on the beach were those three nude pictures.

She told herself that it was impossible, he would never do that to her, he would never do something like that to his pupils, he was just too professional and upright and that simply wasn’t Callum – but if he had, if he had, then that was truly disgusting, it would be the worst possible violation of her—

The boy was back, walking across the front of the school in the other direction. Without really thinking Tamsin found herself jogging over to him. She blocked his way and put a hand on his shoulder to stop him slipping past her.

‘Tell me,’ she said in a hard voice. ‘What photograph did he show you?’

Clearly frightened of her anger, the boy mumbled something and looked down. Tamsin took him by both shoulders now, digging her thumbnails in. She didn’t care if she hurt him.

‘Look at me,’ she said. ‘Just tell me yes or no. Did he really show you one of those photographs?’

The boy’s face told her all she needed to know. She let him go and began to stumble dazedly back to her tree. Then she noticed a young man, surely a teacher, walking over to a line of parked cars, his arms full of books. She strode up to him.

‘Hi. Sorry to bother you – but can you tell me where Callum Dempster is?’