There was a general nod of agreement.

‘Now, firstly, I want to say that anything you tell me will be treated in confidence. I’m not interested in personal misdemeanours and there will be no reporting back to authority figures on anything you tell me. I just want to find out a few things about Charlie and that night and I need you all to be honest. The first question is, do any of you know if Charlie ever used recreational drugs of any kind?’

There was a short silence and some nervous glances, before an attractive blonde girl piped up, ‘No, he didn’t.’

‘And you are?’

‘Emily Harris. I’m . . . I mean, I was Charlie’s girlfriend.’ Miles watched as she lowered her eyes and bit her lip, obviously struggling to control herself.

‘I’m sorry, Emily. This must have been a horrible shock for you.’

She nodded silently.

‘You say Charlie didn’t use drugs? Are you sure of this?’

‘Completely. He wasn’t an idiot, Detective. He knew he had epilepsy and was putting his life at risk if he touched anything like that.’

‘And were they . . . around?’ Miles scanned the faces for a reaction.

‘Look, Detective,’ a male voice boomed from the back of the room, ‘I don’t think there is one of us here that could put their hand on their heart and say they’ve never tried illegal substances.’

There was an embarrassed murmur of tacit agreement.

‘Who am I speaking to?’

The young man had a thick shock of dark hair, reaching almost to his shoulders. He wore no tie, substituting it with wooden beads strung on a piece of leather, and had a number of plaited cotton friendship bracelets wound round his wrists.

‘Dud Simpson. I’m in Fleat. I was a good friend of Charlie’s. We hung out together a lot. And I’d agree with Emily. I’ve known Charlie since we started here and I’ve never seen him touch anything like that.’

‘Can I ask just where round here you’d obtain those “illegal substances”?’

‘There’s always someone who has something to sell.’

‘At the pub?’

‘Christ, no. At school.’

‘But Charlie never partook?’

‘Nope.’ Dud shook his head. ‘Mummy had drummed it into him. He could be a bit of an arsehole, Charlie, but he didn’t need any medicinal help. It came naturally.’

A giggle spread through the room.

‘So you were drinking with Charlie that night at the pub?’

Dud paused before nodding. ‘Yup. I was there.’

‘Come on, Dud,’ another male voice interjected. ‘Be honest: you and Charlie hadn’t spoken for the past couple of months.’

‘Why not? Fell out, did you?’ suggested Miles.

A deep flush made its way up Dud’s neck and onto his cheeks.

‘Yeah, you could say that,’ said the second pupil.

‘Who are you?’ Miles asked.

‘James Arrowsmith. I’m in Fleat as well. You gonna tell the officer, Dud, or shall I?’

‘For fuck’s sake! Cheers, James,’ Dud murmured. ‘Look, it was nothing. Just a stupid argument.’