‘You haven’t done the work?’ Alfie asks in faux shock.

‘Please, Alfie,’ Ms Calloway says, not looking up. ‘If we can just go through one lesson without you two …’

‘Perhaps you need to buy some more equipment,’ Alfie says, on his feet now.

Kris clutches his professional Nikon bag tight to him, bulging at its seams with an arsenal of lenses. ‘Perhaps some of us aren’t content to hand in any old shite,’ he says.

Alfie smirks, Ms Calloway beginning to unroll his work.

‘You haven’t done it, have you, young man?’ Alfie says.

‘Have, as it happens,’ Kris huffs. ‘Needs a bit more Photoshop, that’s all.’

Alfie’s standing over Kris now, his hips beginning to gyrate. ‘Remind us of the brief, Miss,’ he says. ‘One beautiful detail, wasn’t it?’

‘That’s it,’ she says distractedly, staring at his picture in her hands.

‘One beautiful detail,’ Alfie repeats, thrusting his pelvis back and forth so that Kris has to shrink into his chair to avoid contact. ‘Well, you’re in luck, Mr Tring. Get that camera out while I get this equipment out.’

‘Will you please fuck off?’

Alfie’s slackening his belt now and feeling up his own torso.

‘Alfie!’ Ms Calloway shouts. ‘Alfie, listen.’

He spins round.

‘This is … spectacular.’ She pins the poster to the wall.

‘Was just walking past,’ Alfie says, retaking his seat. ‘Got it on my phone. Is it OK?’

The picture is black and white. The dark, craggy shell of the library sprouts from a thick ground mist. And in the foreground, one torn page, wet and singed at the edges, bearing two words: THE END.

Will and April grin at each other, an unspoken acceptance that they haven’t aced the assignment quite as they imagined.

Alfie slips on a look that seems to suggest how it was all so accidental. Will nods at him, suspecting that actually a great deal of effort went into producing such a perfect piece of work.

‘A room of very talented people,’ Ms Calloway muses, still gazing at the picture.

Kris Tring mumbles something about shot composition and a failure to obey the rule of thirds. He is unanimously ignored.

‘While we’re on the subject of this poor old library …’ Ms Calloway says, looking at April and Will in turn.

‘We’re on the case,’ April says.

‘So I’ve been hearing. And it is a most vital cause.’

‘Not sure we’ll be saving the place single-handed,’ Will says.

‘Well, no, quite. Although I’m hoping I may have moved things in the right direction a little for you.’

‘What do you mean?’ April says.

‘I’ve had a word with the head,’ Ms Calloway says. ‘And it seems, given the great groundwork you two have put in, that it might be possible to extend invitations for this disco of yours –’

‘– rave,’ April corrects her.