The bus rumbles over the railway and pulls over at the stop in front of the library. As the doors hiss open, a fresh breeze whips in, swirls of dust turned to glitter by the morning sun. The man next to Will grapples with the seat in front, drawing himself upright. He turns to Will, gazing into his face.

Will forces a small nod. The guy stares harder, like he’s looking deep into Will, and clean through him at the same time. His skin is waxy grey and his beard is stained brown from smoking, but he’s a good deal younger than Will had assumed – too young for that death-rattle cough. His eyes glow in the golden light, as alive as the rest of him is nearly dead. A half-smile forms – a wistful, knowing sort of smile.

He begins a lengthy clearing of his throat. ‘Thank you,’ he eventually says.

Will’s expression is asking, Thank you for what?

The man’s eyes begin to redden, dampness welling in the left. ‘Thank you so much.’

It’s a growling whisper, impossibly earnest.

‘Sorry, I don’t … Maybe you’ve confused me with someone else,’ Will says.

‘Can we move along?’ calls the driver.

The man raises a hand, his eyes not leaving Will’s.

‘Oh no,’ he says. ‘No confusion.’ He flashes a broad smile and for a second he is unexpectedly handsome. ‘Thank you. It won’t be forgotten. Not ever.’

He staggers, bent-legged, towards the exit, looking back briefly at Will. ‘Go well,’ he says, tipping the brim of an invisible hat. ‘Today it begins. Make the best of it.’

He stands at the kerb in front of the library and watches as the bus drives away.

Will doesn’t dare to look back at him, pretending instead to check his phone. But he replays the interchange in his mind for the twenty-minute journey to school, rattled by how certain, how serious the man was, how heartfelt the misplaced thanks.

The questions of what it could be that begins today, and what could possibly warrant such thanks, are still nagging at Will hours later as he makes his way to period-four photography.

‘Don’t be shy,’ Ms Calloway shouts across the room as Will hovers in the doorway. ‘Join our circle of trust!’

She beckons him over with both hands raised like she’s an evangelical priest. ‘Breathe in – I’m not sure there’s room for everyone.’