‘Is there anything else we can do, Sir?’ she asks.

‘Well, you could write dictionary definitions for each other. That’s something that’s worked well with other groups. So I might be: Curtis, Tristram –’

‘Tristram?’ bursts out Jackson. ‘Are you having a laugh, Sir?’

Mr Curtis ignores him. ‘Curtis, Tristram. Proper noun. 1. Only child, born in Norwich, East Anglia. 2. Aficionado of history with a passion for the First World War. 3. Ornithologist.’

‘A horny-whaty?’ says Jackson.

‘An ornithologist,’ he says, scowling.

‘Someone who studies birds,’ I mutter.

‘That’s what I said!’ laughs Jackson.

Annie sighs deeply. ‘Sir, when do we get the biscuits?’

Mr Curtis puts his hand protectively over the box. ‘After you’ve written your definitions.’

‘All right,’ she says. ‘We’ll do the dictionary thing. I’m working with Meg.’ Then she leans over and gives me a little punch on the shoulder. I surprised to realise that I’m not that fazed by the idea of working with Annie. In some ways she’s got an even bigger mouth than Bella, but at least she’s honest and I can tell if she’s laughing at me or not. Bella’s a lot trickier to work out.

Mr Curtis explains that we need to interview our partner before we write a definition that sums them up.

‘I’m actually looking forward to doing this,’ says Annie, smiling at Mr Curtis. She’s using a voice I’ve never heard before, a sweet, gentle voice. It’s a bit creepy. ‘But do you know what would make this even better, Sir?’

‘What’s that, Annie?’

‘A cup of tea to go with those biscuits.’

‘Two sugars for me,’ says Jackson.

‘Do you have soya milk? I love soya milk!’ says Rose.

Mr Curtis shakes his head. ‘I’m not allowed to make you drinks.’

‘Yes, you are,’ says Annie. ‘The head makes them for me all the time.’ Then she gives him a look, a look that tells him his life will be so much easier if he just goes to the staffroom and makes us all a cup of tea.

He sighs and tears a sheet of paper off the pad in front of him. ‘I’d better write down what you want.’

After he’s left, I say, ‘Do you think he’ll get in trouble?’

‘Nah,’ Annie says. ‘Anyway, it’s not like you tried to stop him.’

‘I guess I really want a cup of tea,’ I say, fighting a yawn. Last night I may have had a couple more hours’ sleep than the night before, but Elsa still woke me up stupidly early. ‘Shall I interview you first?’

‘If you must,’ says Annie.

I go through all the usual ‘getting to know someone’ questions and Annie gives the briefest possible answers, occasionally saying, ‘Next,’ if she doesn’t like one of my questions.

After I ask her what her favourite colour is, she rolls her eyes and pulls a pen out of her bag. ‘My turn, I think. Clark, Meg. Proper noun,’ she says as she writes. ‘Let’s get the boring stuff out of the way. Any brothers or sisters? Where were you born? Got any pets? Blah blah blah.’