Charlie remembered when he had raced Nico back to lessons after recess, winning with a kick to this same door.
‘Boys!’ Mr S had exhaled.
The next day, Mr S started a lunchtime wrestling club in the reading corner. The boys expelled their energy by rolling each other around the carpet, a tumble of shorts and polo shirts.
Charlie tugged at his tie. His shirt felt scratchy and the trousers were too hot for summer. His backpack weighed a ton.
Would Mr S be pleased to see him?