To my absolute horror, I thought he was going to cry. His voice was low and a bit menacing but his eyes were glittering.

‘Look, Mr—’ but he cut me off, his voice savage now.

‘People like you think that you’re better than me. I’m doing the best I can for my kid but to you, I’m just an ex-con, that’s it.’

By now a couple of parents were lingering nearby, quite clearly listening and pretending not to. I put my hand up in a gesture of placation, but he moved back, making it look as though I was being aggressive. A massive wave of irritation burned through me. Alright, I’d made a mistake in reporting this guy, but I really would have been happy to never see him again.

‘Mr Bennett,’ I said, ‘I don’t think anything like that. I don’t even, uh,’ I flailed, ‘know about any of that. I’m very sorry about the …’ I faltered again, looking for the right word ‘… the report but at the time I was being harassed by an unknown person and it seemed a reasonable assumption that it might be you.’

As soon as I said the words, I knew how spectacularly I had messed up. His eyes widened, and he went, ‘Woah …’ taking another step back.

‘A reasonable assumption?’ he said. ‘Is that what it was?’

This was ridiculous. I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t what he thought, some middle-class teacher who thought he was better. But was he really wrong?

Maybe I did think I was better than him, because he represented the sort of man I had worked hard in my life to get away from?

It was such a strange and complex set of emotions, which I had no way of sharing with him. Frustration at everything, and the sheer irony that he could think that of me. I don’t know why my brain sent that particular, highly inappropriate signal to my face.

But I let out a strange bark of a laugh. And as if it was somehow out of my control, I said, ‘For fuck’s sake …’

‘Don’t swear in front of my child!’ Bennett’s voice was loud. I heard a murmur from the woman standing to my right.

I knew that I had made a terrible mistake by the triumphant gleam in Bennett’s eyes. He had me, at last. That’s what he was thinking. Tyler wasn’t even in earshot, not really. He was kicking a ball with some other kids a few feet away. But that didn’t matter.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, my voice low and placatory – or so I hoped. ‘I’ve been having some issues at home and I’m very tired.’ I rubbed a hand over my face. ‘Look, Mr Bennett, can we maybe move on from this now?’