“To sum up, this House’s argument is clear. This school, Jacket Food Comprehensive, is – one – a school that has continually scored poorly on its –” and at this point Belinda, who had been proposing the motion for some time, curtsied towards Mr Mann and Miss Malik – “OFFHEAD reports. And – two – is not getting any better. Recently, the school has just been in a terrible state. There have been stories of chaos in classrooms and corridors, of confectionery – confectionery! – being doled out at lunchtime, of homework being cancelled and of teacher shortages, with classes having to be taught by Reception children!”

Mr Carter wanted to raise his hand here, and say Point of order! That wasn’t because of a teacher shortage! I just did it because I thought it’d be funny! Which it was! but there was no point in him doing so as he was sitting in the audience, and not actually on the debating team. And also it wouldn’t have helped very much. So he just had to sit and watch as Belinda strode confidently forward to the front of the stage.

In the hall, the Bracket Wood pupils sat – the older ones on chairs, the younger ones in front, cross-legged. Lining the walls, though, were the visiting boys and girls from Oakcroft. Onstage, six seats had been set out opposite each other.

The left-hand side was Team Oakcroft. Belinda, until she had begun her speech, had been sitting there with Toby. On the right-hand side, presently looking a bit glum, sat Dionna and Ryan. In between were Mr Mann and Miss Malik. Above them hung the banner. The phrase seemed to gleam more strongly with every word that came out of Belinda’s mouth.

“And – three … well,” she said, moving her face slowly from side to side and doing the smirk that seemed to be her default expression, “just look around you. I don’t wish to be rude …”

Don’t you? thought Mr Carter (that’s Ryan inside Mr Carter, btw).

“… but really.”

In the hall, the Bracket Wood children did what she asked. Barry Bennett looked at his friends Jake, Lukas and Taj, and then to Ellie Stone, who was looking at her brother Fred, who looked beyond her at Malcolm Bailey, who was looking over at Sam Green, who was frowning at Alfie Moore, who was glancing at Stirling and Scarlet, who were looking at each other, although sitting in between them was a Year Five boy called Prajit who smelt slightly of Whiskas, and he was looking at Isla Fawcett, who was looking at her brother Morris, who had his eyes shut because he was asleep.

They all (apart from Morris, obviously) had an expression on their face that said, Oh. Maybe she’s right.

“And then,” Belinda continued, “look at us. Myself and Toby, the representatives of Oakcroft School.” She said Oakcroft with special reverence as if she was saying the word royal. She gestured with both hands towards herself as if opening a pair of invisible curtains just in front of her. “Look at our clothes. Our bearing. Our natural confidence, intelligence and class.” She went and smirked next to Toby, who stood up with her. “This is what schoolchildren should look like. Should simply, in fact, be. We are what a school that is definitely not rubbish breeds – a superior race …”

In the audience, Mrs Valentine-Fine OBE made a tiny gesture with her index finger, a gesture that meant Not that, Belinda – bit too far.

“Sorry, scratch that,” said Belinda, hardly pausing for breath. “A superior model of pupil. A model pupil, if you will. As opposed to –” she looked across to where the Bracket Wood team was sitting and fixed her eye particularly on Dionna – “a rubbish pupil.” Remarkably, as she said this, her smirk broke into a full smile. She turned back, still smiling, to the audience.

“Standing before you, I thus commend this motion to the gracious OFFHEAD judges. Thank you very much.”

There was a small silence, followed by a burst of loud applause from where Mrs Valentine-Fine OBE was sitting.

“BRAVO! BRAVO! ENCORE! HEAR HEAR!” At which point, the Oakcroft group round the walls joined in, clapping and shouting, “Yes! Great job, Belly! Well done! You go, girl!” and suchlike.

Belinda sat down with a very strong sense of sorted. Miss Finch leant over from behind Mr Carter and said quietly, “Well, that was very irritating. But delivered supremely confidently. Which probably counts for quite a lot …?”

“Maybe,” replied Mr Carter, looking over at Miss Malik, who was scribbling furiously in her notebook. “But Dionna’s great.” He wanted to say, And Ryan’s actually forty-three years old, so that’ll help. But managed to suppress the urge. “Plus, the posh boy has to do his speech first. And I don’t think he’ll be as good as Belinda.”

“Thank you very much, Belinda, the captain of Oakcroft’s team,” said Miss Malik. “And now, Toby, to second the motion, please.”

Toby stood up, his long shaggy hair falling across his eyes. He put his hands in his pockets and ambled forward.

“Yuh. Well. What Bells said. Literally. I mean, this school, like, is clearly so basic. It’s just dregs, and us Oaky boys and girls – we’re clearly, like, on fleek. So you know – vote for us.” And with that he smiled, clicked his tongue, winked and pointed with both index fingers at the audience.

“You see?” whispered Mr Carter, looking back at Miss Finch. “That won’t have got Oakcroft many poi—”

But then he stopped whispering. Because he noticed that Miss Finch wasn’t listening. She was just looking dreamily at Toby, who was still standing in his pose, smiling his very white-toothed smile.

Then he looked around and saw that every single girl and female teacher – and quite a few of the boys and men – were staring in more or less the same way at Toby.

Another big round of applause broke out all over the hall, during which Mr Carter noticed that joining in with the applause, and very much also doing the dreamy stare, was OFFHEAD inspector and debating judge Miss Malik.