Donny had to keep a straight face, restore order. ‘Liam, that’s your first warning. Turn it in. And, if the girls want to try MMA, so be it. Come and see me after lessons this morning and I’ll sort it out. Anyway, learning time. Listen out for your name and make your way to your lesson as quickly as possible. Remember, no eating in the classroom as well as no phones. Oh, just before you go. We have a new girl called Nancy that I want everyone to meet.’

Motormouth was at it again. ‘Sir, we’ve already met her on the minibus. I’ve told her she can chill with me if she wants so wind your neck in and let her get to class.’ Chelsea stood up, a cocky look on her face. Nothing changed. God help whoever was teaching her this morning, they would have their work cut out for them for sure.

The teachers led the students to their various lessons. Even getting them to the classroom was a job in itself. Maths teacher Robert Sinclair had been teaching here for over a year and knew he had to be firm with his class. When he first started working here, he didn’t think he’d last the term. The kids were either bored or abusive – even the capable ones were hard to teach. Sometimes he yearned for the days when corporal punishment was acceptable.

Sinclair waited until the students sat down; there were only four, but that was more than enough. He looked at them. Frankie was as cool as a cucumber; he knew how to keep his nose clean. It wasn’t worth the hassle anymore. Parents being dragged to school for meeting after meeting about your behaviour just wasn’t cool. Who else had bothered to turn up today? He scanned the class. Ged never really spoke to any of his classmates and most of the time he just put his head on the desk and fell asleep. Paul Tiebury was a bully, a loudmouth from the Harpurhey estate who intimidated a lot of the lads and tried to make them feel stupid. Paul kept flicking Ged’s ear from behind, stretching so he could curl his index finger up tightly ready to strike again. You could hear the flick land like an elastic band snapping. ‘Fuck off, you prick,’ Ged hissed as he felt the back of his ear start to burn.

‘Ged, you carry on using language like that and you’ll be out of here.’ Sinclair was off on one, already hating his job more than ever. Ged lifted his head, his cheeks on fire, his temper boiling, ready to snap. Frankie sat back and started to watch events unfold. This kid rarely said a word and here he was defending himself for a change. A right turn up for the books.