Mr Barrington was finding it very hard to see this so-called baby tortoise. Tortoises, he knew, had greeny-brown shells, and so would be difficult to pick out against this grass anyway, especially in the fading light. He was concerned that one of the children, all of whom had got overexcited and were running about madly, might step on it. He couldn’t see very well, but he kept his ears cocked for a sickening crunch.

He didn’t hear that noise, thankfully. What he did hear was the sound of his phone ringing. Lalalala, lalalala, lalalala, laaa.²⁷

He reached inside his tweed jacket and took it out.

“Hello? Mr Barrington speaking?”

“Hello there, Mr Barrington. It’s Malcolm Bailey’s mum, here – Jackie.”

“Malcolm. Yes. Hello.”

“I was just wondering if I could speak to him. See how he’s getting on.”

Mr Barrington looked around. All of Year Six appeared to be whirling round him. There were many children, in a big, loud blur. Oh heavens, he thought, not for the first time, being a primary school teacher is not an easy job for a man of my age.

“Right. Yes. Of course. Er …” He reached out and grabbed one of the boys. The boy looked up. Yes, this one was Malcolm. Wasn’t it?

“It’s your mother on the line,” said Mr Barrington.

In the Baileys’ living room, Jackie said:

“Hello, M!”

“Oh. Hello, Mum,” came the reply.

“How’s it all going?” she said.

“Yeah, it’s all right.”

“Do you … like seeing the animals?”

“Yeah.”

Although that didn’t sound very convincing, Jackie’s heart lifted. Maybe the school trip was having the desired effect?

“Oh, good! Have you learned anything?”

There was quite a long pause. So long, in fact, that Jackie thought the connection may have dropped out, and started looking at her phone. But then the voice came, saying the sentence quite slowly.

“Cows … don’t … produce … burgers.”

Jackie took this in. “Right,” she said. “Well. That’s good, I’m sure.”

“Yeah.”

There was another pause. “Sorry, M, I can’t hear you very well. Your voice sounds a bit strange, and there’s a lot of shouting in the background.”

“That’s cos everyone’s looking for a porpoise. No, wait a minute. Tortoise. Innit.”

“Oh well,” said Jackie, “it sounds fun. Although you sound a little … like you’ve got a cold or something. Are you keeping warm?”

“Don’t fuss, Mum. Gotta go. See you soon!”

She heard a click, and the line went dead.

“How was that?” said Stewart, who was reading the newspaper on the other side of the room.

Jackie thought for a moment, then shrugged and said, “Better than I expected!”