“Ready?”

Ethan looked at Dad and his heart raced. He didn’t want to go inside. He wished he hadn’t said yes to Mary.

“It’ll be fine, son. We’ll just take a look. They know all about you.”

Dad reached across Ethan and opened the van door. He smiled. “Out you get.”

Ethan climbed out, but his legs were wobbly. They said he could make up his own mind once he’d visited. When they got home he’d write it on a piece of paper:

I changed my mind

I don’t want to go to school.

I’m scared.

I’ll get teased like before.

“Must be this way.” Dad led Ethan across the car park, past a big sign saying Reception. They went through a glass door and into a little area with chairs. Dad went over to the lady at the desk. “I’ll tell him you’re here,” she said.

They sat down. Two boys walked past them and turned down a long hallway. They wore red and blue clothes. Ethan’s heart fluttered but they smiled at him as they went past. He stared out of the window at the concrete playground. He remembered the playground at his old school and shivered.

The door next to the desk swung open and a tall man with a brown beard came through it. “You must be Ethan,” he smiled. “I’m Mr Cabot.”

Ethan tried to smile back. Dad stood up, so he did too. Then Dad shook the man’s hand. “Jake Meaden.”

Ethan’s palms were sweaty; he didn’t want to shake Mr Cabot’s hand.

“Thank you for coming,” said Mr Cabot. “Let’s start with the library.”

They followed Mr Cabot past the desk, through a door and down the long corridor.

“We’re not a big school,” he said, “just a hundred and fifty pupils. I like it that way. It makes us really friendly.”

The corridor walls were covered with project work: the Egyptians, rivers and the Victorians. They came to a door that said Library in coloured paper letters. Mr Cabot opened the door and they followed him inside: it was much smaller than the library in town.

“Take a look, Ethan,” said Mr Cabot. “We’ve got a great range of books.”

Ethan went to a shelf and looked at the book spines. Even though it was a smaller library, there were lots of books he hadn’t read because they were always on loan.

There was a pile of coloured cushions in the corner of the room. Mr Cabot caught him looking. “That’s our reading area. Our pupils sit down over there when they want some peace and quiet.”

They left the library and went through a big room with a high ceiling and a wooden floor. “This is our hall and our lunchroom too. I’ll take you outside.”

The school was surrounded by fields.

“Look at that,” said Dad.

There was a castle made from logs that you could climb up. It had a log bridge with chains at each side.

“A school with a castle, hey,” said Dad.

“Do you want to see the conservation area, Ethan?” asked Mr Cabot.

Ethan nodded and they walked on.

There was a pond at the side of the school. The grass around the pond was overgrown like a canal bank.

“We get lots of wildlife,” said Mr Cabot. “Tadpoles, frogs, fish. There’s still some work to do. The children take it in turns to look after the pond.”

Dad nodded. “Great.”

They left the pond and the castle and went in to see the IT room. Then Mr Cabot stopped at a blue door.

“You can have a look in, Ethan, if you like,” said Mr Cabot. “This is Miss Pimms’ class for pupils your age.”

Ethan looked at Dad and Dad put a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to,” he said gently.

Ethan nodded, but his heart began to race. He could hear the teacher asking a question. Mr Cabot went in first, then Dad, then him.

“Mrs Pimms, I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet.”

Dad stood behind Ethan and put both hands on his shoulders.

The teacher and all the red and blue children looked around at him. Ethan felt dizzy.

The teacher smiled. “Of course.”

The walls were covered with sheets of coloured paper: big words and pictures.

“I’ve heard all about you, Ethan,” the teacher smiled.

The red and blue children were still looking at him but lots were smiling now.

Mr Cabot bent down to Ethan and whispered, “We’ve got a big blank page here and a pen, if you wanted to introduce yourself.” He pointed to a big white board on the wall at the front of the class. He took out a thick black pen from his pocket. “You don’t have to write big letters.”

School was more colourful than he had expected. There was a castle and water and a blank page; it wasn’t so different from the canal after all.

Ethan looked at Dad. “Only if you want to,” Dad said.

Ethan nodded. Mr Cabot led him through the tables to Miss Pimms at the front of the class.

He tried not to look at all the children sitting in front of him, watching. He tried to imagine it was just him and Polly, on the canal with his notebook.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Miss Pimms said.

Ethan turned to face the big white board. It was taller than he was. He pulled the lid off the pen. The classroom was quiet. He lifted the pen to the big white page and pressed the tip against it. His hand was shaky. Dad smiled and nodded. Ethan took the pen away from the board and put it on the metal shelf underneath. Dad’s smile fell. Ethan looked out at Dad and all the boys and girls. He took a big breath to make him brave and he said, “I’m Ethan. I live on the canal.”