Marty shrugged in Gracie’s direction, and she waved, signifying that she’d see him later. He made his way into Mr. Garraway’s class, which was lavishly decorated with posters of Scotland and the various types of tartan. Marty gingerly sat on the edge of one of the desks as Mr. Garraway closed the door.

He watched as Mr. Garraway rubbed his bristly beard.

“I heard you had a run-in, shall we say?” He was looking at Marty’s healing chin now. “You okay?”

Marty nodded.

“None of my business, of course, but you give me a shout if you need to talk about anything…”

“Okay,” Marty answered, fiddling with the strap of his knapsack.

“I know I’m not supposed to come down on anyone’s side in any disputes, but between you and me, that Gerry is a pain in the proverbial.”

Marty smiled. Marty wondered whether that was it, until Mr. Garraway piped up again.

“I’ve heard on the grapevine too. Been given, shall we say, the heads-up. The nod. That you’ve not been handing in your homework, lad.”

Marty never knew if Mr. Garraway had finished speaking or not because he never seemed to come to a conclusion in a sentence.

“I’m not worried about you, obviously, but you are on my radar…”

Marty waited.

“That is to say, I’m looking out for you…”

He was definitely finished now. If Marty was brutally honest, homework and projects had been the furthest things from his mind. He hadn’t even thought about them. Since he’d been clearing out the house, homework was so far down his list of “things that are important,” it had kind of fallen clean off the page. He considered quickly whether brutal honesty was the way forward or the more traditional approach of lying through his teeth. Mr. Garraway was still staring at him.

“I just wanted to know whether I could help you out a little bit. Help you along. Find a solution for you. Maybe. I mean, give you a little advice…”

Marty shrugged. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been really busy.”

Marty tried going down the vagueness-personified route to see if it would work. Mr. Garraway studied him for a moment.

“How’s your ma these days?”

Marty tensed a little. He was good. He was really, really good.

“She’s well,” he said eventually, “really well actually.”

Mr. Garraway studied him again. Could tell he wasn’t lying. Was reassured.

“Good. Good,” he said. “Grand. Aye, that’s grand.”