Already he could hear the stifled sniggers from the boys behind him. ‘Surname, sir.’

‘Christian name?’

‘Gus.’

‘What?’

‘Augustus, sir.’

‘Augustus Lavender. Correct?’

The laughter broke out in snorts and yelps. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Silence! Where do you think you are? The next boy to snigger will feel the weight of my hand. Very well, Lavender, you may sit down.’

As Gus made his way back to his seat he could feel eyes following him and saw covert nudges and kicks. He lowered his eyes to his slate and tried to ignore them.

It was his first morning at the Kirkdale Industrial School. He had been marched there at first light by one of the men employed as porters at the workhouse. He had felt excited, as if he was being set free from prison, but that sensation had rapidly faded as he entered the imposing gatehouse. The building was much bigger than he had imagined. Tall grey walls with rows of windows encircled a central courtyard that was crowded with boys, most of them older and bigger than he was. They were being marshalled into lines by masters wielding canes and there was a lot of shouting and scuffling. He had been taken to an office, where a clerk had taken his name and age, and then directed along a long passageway to the classroom where he now sat. The lesson was arithmetic, which he normally found quite easy, but whereas Mr Baker’s manner had always been quiet and controlled, the master here was barking out mental arithmetic questions and picking on individual boys to answer. Any boy who failed to give the correct response received a sharp clip round the ear.

The class came to an end, without Gus being called upon, and the boys filed out into the courtyard. Gus gazed around, searching for a corner where he might escape notice, but before he could move away a hand grabbed his shoulder. He swung round to face a boy with a shock of straw-coloured hair and a face full of pimples. He was a good head taller than Gus but he had narrow shoulders to which his thin arms seemed only loosely attached. He was grinning broadly, exposing front teeth that were brown and chipped. A small crowd of other boys stood close behind him.

‘Hey, girly, what you doin’ here?’ he demanded.

‘I’m not a girl!’ Gus responded furiously.

‘Augustus Lavender!’ He pronounced the name with a high-pitched giggle. ‘That’s a girl’s name.’

‘No, it isn’t!’

‘Where d’you get a name like that, then?’

‘From my father.’

‘Go ’way! You never had a father.’

‘Yes I did.’

‘Where is he then?’

‘He was lost at sea.’

‘That what your mother told you, is it?’

‘Yes. He’s a sailor. One day I’m going to find him.’

‘Get on! You believe that, you’ll believe anything. I bet you never saw him.’

‘I did!’