‘Clever kids get bored, because it’s all so easy. They’re just waiting for university, for the rest of their lives. They know it’s gonna get better. It’s the same with the truly nasty ones. They’re waiting to be old enough, biding their time until they can launch themselves onto the world. They already know what’s waiting for them.’

‘Isn’t a school’s job to steer them away from that kind of future?’

She laughed out loud. The tear began its slow progress down her cheek.

‘The ones who are gonna end up in jail, who are going to do really bad things? I can spot ’em a mile off. There’s not many, but they’re easy to recognize. And they’re not all from bad homes.’

‘What are you saying, then? It’s genetic?’

She shrugged.

‘They have an aura. You can feel it. It’s unnerving. I mean,’ she said, pausing for thought, ‘you must know this?’

‘I don’t. Not the way you put it.’ He was still looking at the entrance to the supermarket. ‘Have you been following the Graphite Assassin case?’

She nodded.

‘Did you read about Jason Beverage?’

‘I did,’ she said. ‘Do you need more proof? Really?’

‘The evil gene, eh?’

‘OK.’ She bit her lip, took a moment to think. ‘I’ll tell you what. Go after him. Kieron Burnett, that’s his name. He’s thirteen and he’s got a juvenile record as long as your arm. Go on, take him under your wing. Shower him with social workers. Be his surrogate dad. His mentor. Take him bowling, hiking, give him books to read, whatever. But you know what? None of it will make any difference. He won’t change.’

‘A wrong ’un?’

That shrug again. She wasn’t arguing with him. She was simply stating the truth, a truth that seemed to crush her. She was crying now, silent tears as she looked out through the window.

‘And that’s why you became a teacher?’ he asked.

She unbuckled her seat belt.

‘I became a teacher for the good kids, the huge majority. The odd rotten one just comes with the territory.’

She opened the door and got a leg out.

‘Do you need a lift home?’ he asked. ‘Anything? Someone to talk to?’

‘I’m fine. I might take a walk up the hill to Gomersal, have a quiet drink in that pub. I think I need to be alone tonight.’

‘In a day or two, perhaps?’

‘Yes, perhaps.’

She leant back into the car and kissed him on the cheek.

‘See you, Joe.’

38