‘Not that I can remember,’ said Rowan. The other woman had put down the receipts and was now spraying a bleachy cleaner over the kitchen counter with vigour. Irene thought guiltily about her earlier assumption about the woman’s cleanliness. She had been nothing but helpful, even if she had rather unconventional methods.

‘If I were you, Mrs Copeland,’ Rowan said, ‘I’d take a trip down to this Casterbourne place, just in case.’ She put her head to one side, eyes brightening. ‘I could come with you,’ she said.

‘It’s okay,’ said Irene hastily. ‘I might just leave it for a day or two. Maybe Michael has taken a trip, you know, to … clear his head. I’ll hang on a bit.’

Rowan made a doubtful face, clearly disappointed.

She had been kind, but Irene had a resolve now, having broken into her son’s room. Whatever he had got himself into, she was going to find him. And something told her she needed to do this alone.

ELLIOTT

I slept badly again and had a dull headache the next morning. Anya looked pale. We didn’t say much as we carried out our dance around each other getting ready for work.

As she was leaving, she came over and kissed me full on the mouth. I reached for her and she leaned into me, resting her head against my chest. Despite my gritty-eyed, throbbing-headed tiredness, I felt more at peace with the world than I had for days. This was what was important, right here. If she wanted to talk about going off travelling, I’d do it, I decided. Being together was what mattered, even if people were putting bricks through the window and frightening the shit out of us. I needed to deal with this situation, because it wasn’t going away.

I got two strong cups of coffee down me and managed to get into school early enough that the gates were only just opening.

I made conversation with Barry, our caretaker, who had been at the school about as long as I’d been alive. He was a grizzled old Kentish boy who Zoe and I had long agreed would be our first choice of companion come the zombie apocalypse, such were his impressive array of practical skills. ‘Conversation’ was largely limited to, ‘Getting a bit colder in the mornings,’ and ‘That it is,’ it must be said, but I pretended to take an interest in the work he was doing to a broken section of fence near the gates, so I could keep an eye out for the arrival of Tyler.

Children were now streaming into the playground, mostly trailing mothers who waved them off or chased after them with forgotten lunchboxes and book bags.

No sign of Tyler.