It was just a few days into 2018 and her third day back in the office after the Christmas and New Year holidays. Claire hung up the phone with relief and turned back to the document she’d been working on. It was just Natalie, the school secretary at Joshua’s school, requesting a change of appointment for the parent-teacher meeting, which was happening the following month. Still, she struggled to concentrate on the paperwork in front of her. Whenever she saw the number of the school flash up on the screen, she always had a moment’s anxiety, which turned into impatience as the speaker on the other end went through the verification process.

Yes, this is Mrs Carmichael; yes, I am Joshua’s mother.

The anxiety had become worse since one particular phone call Claire had received from the school last year. It was during Joshua’s off the rails phase and even now, she felt sick to her stomach whenever she thought about it. The phone had rung one Thursday afternoon when Claire had been playing on the floor with Jamie. The ring of her mobile had been a welcome distraction from the fifteenth round of car chases.

‘Hello?’

‘Is this Mrs Carmichael?’

‘Yes.’

‘Mrs Carmichael, this is Margaret Chillton, Joshua’s headmistress. There has been an incident this afternoon at the school – Joshua is fine – but we think it’s best if you or your husband could come in please.’ The headmistress’s tone had been firm and Claire had felt her chest tighten in response.

‘What’s happened?’

‘It’s a little delicate to discuss over the phone. What time could you or your husband be here?’

‘I’m leaving home now,’ replied Claire, already reaching for her handbag and Jamie. ‘I’ll be there in thirty minutes.’

‘Thank you – see you shortly.’

Claire had hung up and quickly called Joshua on his mobile but it went straight to voicemail. She wasn’t surprised. There were strict rules about phone usage in the school and it was probably in his locker. She left home, shooing Jamie ahead of her, and hurried to her car and strapped Jamie in the back seat. She would call Chris en route.

The traffic was heavy and as she weaved through the lanes impatiently, she’d tried to imagine what had happened. A fight seemed the most plausible. If there had been a serious accident, Mrs Chillton would have told her to go to the hospital. Bullying? Joshua didn’t seem the type, but Claire knew it took all sorts. And Joshua had been acting strange lately, but she’d put it down to a girl. What if it had nothing to do with a girl? Or worse what it if it had?