‘Rave. Indeed. To extend invitations to this rave further than ECS. I’ve been chatting with some of my opposite numbers at other local schools, and our head is comfortable that we have sufficient room here.’

Will does his best to remain casual, in spite of the fact that April has just grabbed his hand. Alfie winks at him, proud as a father seeing his baby walk.

‘More kids means more money,’ April says.

‘And I’ve also heard whispers that some local businesses might be interested in sponsoring the event. And if you could get the press involved too …’

‘We’d make a killing?’ April says, unable to sit still.

‘My thoughts exactly.’

‘This is perfect.’ She squeezes Will’s hand. ‘A killing!’

‘I hear, Will, that we might be getting a performance from you,’ Ms Calloway says.

‘He’s not actually said yes yet,’ April says, slapping his leg.

Will’s actually been avoiding thinking about it, holding off committing for as long as possible. And what had been proposed as a gig to years seven and eight of ECS now involves a far larger audience. And possibly press, even.

‘No pressure, cuz,’ Alfie says. ‘You’d smash it though.’

Will thinks back to when he first sat in this room with these people. An outsider. Not more than six weeks ago. It seems so much longer. Here he is now, sleeping in lessons after an all-nighter, best mate to one side, the girl he’s crazy about to the other.

‘Of course I’m doing it,’ Will says. Just like that, as if the words are someone else’s. ‘Not going to let you all down, am I?’

Maybe it’s the tiredness playing tricks, but imagining this gig doesn’t scare him like it should. There’s a moment of confusion in Will’s fuzzy brain. He knows how order descends into chaos, how happiness resolves to misery. Yet, right now, the universe doesn’t seem to be playing by the rules. Half a term has gone by and his world has become richer, more exciting. Right now, what lies ahead promises more than what has gone before. And that, Will is sure, is not how it’s supposed to work.

‘Not till the end of November,’ April says. ‘Lots of time to practise.’

Who knows who I’ll be by then, Will thinks. ‘Looking forward to it,’ he says.

House of Horrors

It will turn out to be a night of firsts for Will. This is the first proper party he’s ever been to. And most definitely the first one he’s gatecrashed.

It is unseasonably warm for Halloween, the sycamore trees lining the private road still clinging to their deep orange leaves, a light scattering of them swirling around the busy front lawn, as Alfie and Will pull up outside the house.