‘This is Krystal’s fault. She lets him behave like an animal. Aaron always acts up before going home with that woman. She’s an unfit mother.’

‘Mrs Rooney…’ Aima tried to break in but her voice was too soft. And Howard was being strangely spineless.

‘We can’t talk now,’ I said firmly. ‘We should wait until Monday. This isn’t the time or the place.’

I recognised Joyce’s scowl. Aaron had inherited it. She was opening her mouth to give me what for when Howard said, ‘Aren’t you needed in the canteen, Joyce?’

Aha, I thought. That’s why she’s at school.

‘There’s nothing you can do here, but you’re certainly needed over there,’ he went on. ‘If you go home at this point, how will they manage?’

When Joyce hesitated, I held my breath.

‘I suppose so,’ she grumbled at last. ‘Wouldn’t want to let the others down.’ She was dominating the room, and I wondered how she did it. Perhaps it had something to do with her aggrieved air. ‘This meeting of yours is on Monday?’ she asked Howard, who gave a nod. ‘What time?’

‘Ahhh…three-thirty?’ He glanced at me.

‘That’s fine,’ I said.

‘Monday at three-thirty. All right. I’ll tell my son.’ Joyce turned on her heel and thumped out of the room, though not before adding, ‘Aaron will be okay once his mother’s not involved. We’ve got a court date. It shouldn’t be long.’

No one uttered a word until the front door had slammed behind her. Howard took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Aaron flung himself down again. Aima looked stunned; her hand trembled as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

I finally broke the silence. ‘Guess I’d better get back to class.’

‘Yes. You do that.’ Howard didn’t even look at me.

‘Bye, Aaron. See you next week.’ The prospect made my heart sink, but I flashed a smile at his unresponsive back. Then I hurried down the hall and out into the harsh summer sun.

I was on the front doorstep, gulping down air, when a young woman approached me and said, ‘Do you know where the sick bay is?’

I recognised her voice. ‘Krystal?’

‘Yes.’ Unlike Joyce, Krystal McCall had an untidy, flustered look. She was very thin, with a narrow face, a wide mouth and big blue eyes.

‘I’m Robyn Ayres. We spoke on the phone.’

‘Oh! Yes. Hi.’

‘You got here fast.’

She stared at me blankly. ‘I don’t work on Fridays,’ she said. ‘Where’s Aaron?’

‘If you go to Reception, you can sign in. Aaron’s just down the hall from there, with the school counsellor.’ I suddenly remembered his Swiss Army knife and pulled it out of my pocket. ‘He brought this in today. It’s not a good idea.’

Krystal gasped. Then she snatched it from me. ‘That stupid knife!’