There was no interrogation today, so I’ve been in the TV room. A new boy, Lenny, has been in there with me the whole time. I found him unscrewing the screws on a table.

‘Are you sure you should be doing that?’ I said. He didn’t even look at me. ‘Because—’

‘Get stuffed.’

‘Where d’you get the screwdriver? If they see you with that, they’ll—’

‘They won’t see me,’ he muttered. ‘You tell them, and I’ll end ya.’

He looked scared even while he was saying this. I picked up a car magazine and pretended to read it and he carried on, loosening all four legs just enough to make sure the table still looked normal. I felt kind of sorry for him.

‘It gets better here, you know,’ I said. Can’t believe I said that; it isn’t even true. ‘Well, I mean, the first few days are the worst. You get used to it …’ Truer, this.

He looked at me with very sad eyes, like the saddest baby animal, and I left him alone, but later, at the dinner table, he sat next to me. He ate in total silence, then sort of followed me back to the empty TV room.

I tried to chat, but he wouldn’t talk back and I couldn’t even watch the programme because Lenny made noise in a big way. He dragged that screwdriver up and down the metal window fastenings, then leaped about re-screwing everything in the room that had a screw, as if he thought he was a proper workman. Scratch. Rasp.

Then he sat in the low window seat and scraped, as if the metal was his sculpture. The setting sun streamed in behind him. The outline of his hair looked like it had been painted with a highlighter pen. Scrape. Screech.

‘Miss Jukes or someone will hear that and come in here,’ I said.

He ignored me.

I like the TV room, and not just because of the TV – it always smells of warm furniture polish. It covers up the school smell and makes me feel like I’m somewhere near our old house in the city. If I close my eyes and breathe in, I can pretend none of this has happened.

But Lenny was ruining it.

I gave up and went to leave, but then Lenny suddenly spoke. ‘Are you scared?’

‘Scared of what?’

‘Of what’s next.’

I shrugged, and then he said, ‘Why’re you in here?’

I waited for a moment, in case it was a trick. The others might have got to him. Then I told him, bit by bit, watching his face carefully. His eyes grew wider and wider. He didn’t laugh. There was shock on his face, but no sneering. He believed me.

‘Whoa,’ he said on a very long breath. ‘That’s amazing!’

I felt lighter instantly, as if Lenny had pulled a plug in my head. ‘How about you?’