Best looked up at the ceiling. ‘Buy a canal boat,’ he said. ‘The canal network covers the entire country and you can move about it at your leisure. Undetected.’ He smiled, again. ‘Anyway, back to quadratic equations.’

James rubbed his eyes. He didn’t get it, and he didn’t care. He was never going to use it in real life. Best’s example was the proof of that: why did he want to fire missiles, or figure out how high a football had gone? All he needed was to get through his Maths GCSE and then forget this bullshit forever.

And then there was Louise. He thought about her all the time. When he tried to concentrate, his mind slipped to thinking about her. She went to a different school, so he only saw her on evenings and weekends, but all day long he imagined she was at his school, hovering in the background and watching him tell jokes and play football and hang out with his friends. In lessons he wrote her long letters about how much he liked her – he loved her, but he hadn’t told her yet – and describing in great detail all the many qualities she had: kindness, beauty, wisdom.

He felt a bit guilty, truth be told, because before he met her it had been Maggie he imagined watching over him. Now he imagined introducing Louise to Maggie, and Maggie telling him she was amazing and the right girl for him.

At times like that she felt so close to him, even though he knew he’d never see her again, never be anywhere near her.

And in a week it would be a year since she’d gone. He hadn’t mentioned it to his parents. They didn’t seem to have noticed and he didn’t want to upset them.

He pushed his chair back. ‘Could I use the toilet?’

Best nodded. ‘You know where it is? In the hall.’

James got up and left the dining room. He closed the bathroom door behind him and unzipped his jeans. When he had finished, he washed his hands and went back into the hall.

The kitchen door was ajar. He’d never been in. Other than the bathroom and the dining room, he’d never been in any other parts of Best’s house.

He glanced inside.

There was a box to the right of the door. It was unopened, but he recognized the brand name.

Pampers.

Best had a box of Pampers? Weren’t they nappies? What did he want nappies for? Maybe he had a new grandkid and was helping out his son or daughter. There were no photos of any kids in the house, though, and he’d never mentioned any.

The dining room door opened. Best stood there.

‘Everything OK?’ he said.

‘Yeah.’

Best looked at the open door. He chuckled.