Lewis

They crept up to the main building and squeezed through the open toilet window. Rhona exited the toilet first, and Lewis followed two minutes later. He was sneaking down the corridor, shoes in his hand, when a loud voice made him jump like a frog.

“Lewis! What on earth are you up to now?”

He whipped round, barefoot but fully dressed, shoes dangling from his hand. Mr Deacon was standing behind him, hands on hips, glowering. He was wearing striped pyjamas and old men’s slippers, so it was hard to take him seriously. Lewis’s preprepared lie came as quick and easy as a microwave meal.

“I woke early and I didn’t want to disturb anyone, so I got dressed and went into the common room.” He pulled the torch from his jacket pocket. “I used this and read some of the old wildlife magazines that were lying around. Did you know this is a good place to spot pine martens? Did you know that fourteen people have been killed by adders in Britain in the last hundred and fifty years? Would you like me to tell you ten fascinating facts about capercaillies?”

Mr Deacon yawned. “You can tell us all over breakfast, Lewis. Get back to your bed, for goodness’ sake.”

Lewis nodded and slipped into the dormitory. He pulled off his outer clothes, threw himself on the bed and fell instantly asleep.

He could smell Derek’s appalling musky deodorant. When he opened his eyes he could see Derek, in Spiderman boxers, spraying deodorant over his equally stinky trainers.

“That reeks,” he murmured, still half asleep.

Derek spun round, sprayed a jet of deodorant over Lewis’s bed. “There you go. You’ll smell better now. What was all that about last night?”

“What do you mean?” Lewis asked, trying to suss him out. Yawning, he pushed off the duvet, swung his legs across and sat on the edge of the bed. When he pulled off his T-shirt, his muscles twanged. Grimacing, he examined the bruises on his skinny calves. There was a large graze on his shoulder and his hand was badly scratched. He looked like he’d been in a fight.

“You sneaked out and didn’t come back until it got light. I was dead worried. I didn’t know if I should call Mr Deacon. How far did you get this time?”

Derek seemed genuinely interested, but Lewis was still trying to process all that had happened last night.

“I wasn’t running away.” For some reason, it seemed important for Derek to know that. “I went… I went looking for something I’d lost.”

“What was that, then?”

Lewis tapped his nose. “Top secret. If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

Derek grinned, seeming pleased with this answer. He stuffed his deodorant can into an already full case, then peered at Lewis through his thick-lensed varifocals.

“You don’t look too good. Just as well we’re going home.”

We’re going home.

Lewis didn’t think he’d ever heard three lovelier words. He smiled at Derek, feeling a twinge of guilt. Derek always tried to be friends and he’d always looked down on him. Let’s face it: Lewis had sneered at him. And Derek was nice. He’d been worried about Lewis.

Lewis dragged himself out of bed. He looked down at his tangled sheets, his rumpled duvet. Every other bed was already crisply made. Maybe he should do the same, just to get peace.

Dizzy with tiredness, he got up and smoothed his duvet. From the other side of the room, Tariq chucked a sock at him.

“Nice one, Lewis. We’ve definitely won this. I heard the girls’ dorm’s a tip.”

It felt like acceptance.

After breakfast, Scott and Max gave a farewell speech, during which Flora sat in floods of tears, sniffing loudly and declaring herself heartbroken.

“What’s she like?” grumbled Rhona. “Every ruddy day’s a drama starring Flora.”

Lewis sighed, flicked his hair out of his eyes. Maybe he should get it cut, stop hiding behind his fringe. Or maybe he should dye it purple, something a bit more standout than black.

“It feels weird to be going home, for everything to just go back to normal,” Lewis said. “I mean, I’m glad it’s over and that the unicorns are safe. And I’ll be really glad to be back in my own bed. But life’s going to feel a bit flat.”

“Yup. Eastgate’s definitely a unicorn-free zone. We’re going back to boring old normal.”

Rhona’s eyes looked sad, and Lewis remembered that her ‘normal’ was caring for her mum. It was hard to imagine what that would be like: coming home from school to housework, having to make his own dinner and clean up afterwards. It had never even crossed his mind to do that in his own house.

All that time he’d spent moaning about having to go on this trip, while for Rhona it had been an escape. Lewis cringed when he thought about it, then cringed some more when he thought of his sulkiness towards his own mum. His mum had needed an escape too, from their dingy little flat, and from him. No wonder she’d fled to that five-star hotel as soon as the chance came. He wondered if she’d enjoyed her course and found himself hoping she’d had the best time ever. She deserved it after everything she’d been through.

He was trying desperately to think of something to say to Rhona that wouldn’t sound soppy or patronising when she speared her bacon with her fork so hard that he winced.

“At least normal life will be safer,” she said, stuffing bacon into her mouth and chewing. “Last night I didn’t think we were going to make it to our twelfth birthday parties.”

The moment for soppiness was over. It was probably for the best.

Lewis nodded. “Excellent point. We’ve survived. And we saved the unicorns. What did you say last night? We’re flamin’ heroes.”

Mr Deacon got to his feet and ran a hand through his wispy hair. His jacket was so rumpled he looked as though he’d slept in it.

“Right guys. We need to make sure nothing is left behind. You’re all responsible for your own gear. Go sort yourselves out!”

Mr Deacon: a pure legend. It was hard to get his head round that idea, but he had to admit that the teacher had made a lot more effort to understand what was going on in Rhona’s life than he had.

As they dragged their holdalls towards the bus, Miss James rushed around, herding them like a hyperactive sheepdog. Mr Deacon stood at the bottom of the bus steps, looking tired and dishevelled.

As Lewis put his hand out to grab the bar, Mr Deacon spoke. “You’ve had a time of it, lad. Bet you’re sorry you came.”

Am I sorry? Do I wish none of this had happened?

Lewis stepped onto the bus, then turned and shook his head.

“It was unforgettable, Mr Deacon. Some of it was hell, but the rest… the rest was magic.”

And he headed to the seat Rhona and Derek were keeping for him at the back of the bus.