Callum was wearing Hawaiian board shorts and a tight V-neck T-shirt with the logo ‘NBX Burnout’ – just as open to ridicule, in its way, as Mr Love’s outfit. But 8S had granted Mr Dempster immunity. There was a certain toughness about him that made them wary of taking the piss. He was also going to be their form teacher next year. It was preferable to have him as an ally.

The snickering was getting louder. Callum turned to face the class with one eyebrow raised and his head slightly cocked. Could he have seen it, Mr Love would not have thanked him for this look. But it worked. There was one more titter, and then 8S were silent.

‘Mr Love won’t play our CD, though.’

The speaker sounded aggrieved. Ludo Hall was head of choir; he had tightly waved marmalade hair and a pure treble voice reputed to have made several of the male members of staff weep. Because of this, and in spite of a staffroom mantra ‘not to let Ludo Hall think he’s special’, he was treated, ever so slightly, like a celebrity. Women of all ages responded to his fine, pale features, and Ludo had already begun to respond to this response. In class he was subtly disruptive, with a keen sense of injustice and a talent for figuring himself as the wronged party when caught.

Callum eyed him evenly then smiled before the boy could see him weighing his decision. ‘Ah, Charles?’ he said, turning back to Mr Love.

The CD was Loud by Rihanna, and it kept everyone happy all the way back to Denham Hall. Everyone except for Mr Love (Sex in the air, I don’t care I love the smell of it) and Sophie Witrand. Callum watched her with a mixture of pity and interest. She was twisted right round to face the class, trying to sing along with song lyrics she didn’t really know. After five minutes of being ignored she flopped back into her seat. But then she would pick herself up and start again.

During one of her ‘time-outs’, she asked him a question.

‘So the Romans, they didn’t believe in God, did they, sir?’

‘The Romans had lots of gods. You know that, Sophie.’ She was one of the brightest students in the class.

‘No, but not God God, like the Christian God – they didn’t even really know about him till the three hundreds ay dee, did they.’

‘Until the fourth century, that’s right. Very good. Emperor?’

‘Emperor Constantine. But, sir…’ Sophie was distracted by a chorus she evidently knew. She wriggled away from their conversation and launched herself back into Rihanna. ‘Want you to MAKE ME FEEL – like I’m the only girl in the world – like I’m the only one that you’ll ever luh-uv…’