I sleep a bit better, mainly because Sergei isn’t shouting out his weird words in the night. He stays in bed a bit later this morning, too.

In my head, I keep running over the conversation I had yesterday with Amelia and her family. It’s bothering me. Those things I said about people sticking to their own patch . . . I hope they don’t think I mean them because I like having them around – they bring something new, something exciting to the canal. And I think they should be able to live where they like, not bound by silly rules and regulations.

Sergei’s face pops into my mind. What’s different about him and Angie coming to live here? I don’t mean in our flat; I mean here, in our country.

It feels like they’re taking something away from us just by being here and I know that doesn’t really make any sense. The things that Linford says about foreigners and the headlines I’ve seen on the newspapers outside the shop . . . they’re all swirling around in my head and it’s really difficult to get past them to decide what I think. It just feels too hard and uncomfortable, so I push the thoughts away again.

I should’ve kept my mouth shut yesterday, instead of spilling my guts to Amelia, Sandy and Spike. I’d tried to change the subject but they all seemed a bit quiet after that. I did the right thing in making an excuse to leave.

After wolfing down a bowl of cereal, I grab my rucksack and head out while Sergei is still in the bathroom. When I get to the school gates there’s nobody there in our usual meeting spot. Again.

I find them in the inner courtyard. I join the group and apart from a couple of grunts, nobody really says anything. A stupid tic starts up in my eye. Jack and Harry stare down at the floor as if there’s something fascinating there among the new paving stones, scuffling their feet with their hands stuffed deep into their trouser pockets.

Linford, as usual, is glued to his phone.

‘All right, Linford?’ I say.

‘Yeah, cool.’

He glances up at me and back down really quickly, but it’s enough for me to spot it. A dark maroon puffiness that encircles his whole eyeball, even covering the eyelid.

My eyes flick to Harry and he holds my questioning look for a second before giving a slight shrug and looking away again. I can almost hear him hissing, Don’t ask what happened.

‘What happened?’ I ask Linford.

He doesn’t look up or speak. The silence seems to swell until it confines all three of us in an invisible bubble we can’t seem to break out of.

‘What happened?’

Linford doesn’t answer me or even show he’s heard me ask the question again. I glance at Jack and Harry but they won’t meet my eyes and their hands burrow even further into their pockets.

Nobody speaks and somehow that just makes everything worse.

I can see Linford isn’t really looking at his phone. He’s just staring down at it, his fingers hovering motionless over the screen. The only thing moving is a muscle that flexes repeatedly in his jaw.

‘Looks painful,’ I say, looking over at Harry and Jack. They still won’t look at me, but Harry’s face looks scorched red.

I can feel the invisible bubble of silence pressing in closer until suddenly it bursts.

‘Why don’t you mind your own business?’

Linford doesn’t shout or snap; his voice is calm and quiet, and somehow that makes it worse. I swallow hard and struggle to keep my voice sounding level. I feel the tic start up again in my eye.

‘I just – I wondered if everything is . . .’

I think about his final warning look at me last night at his front gate and I know I can’t talk to the others about it or mention what happened in front of them.

‘I fell down the stairs at home, OK?’ Linford shoves his phone in his pocket and balls his fists. ‘Shut your mouth about it now, I don’t want to hear no more.’

When he stands up and stalks off, Jack and Harry follow him like two whipped puppies.

I watch them go and just stand where I am for a few seconds, trying to work out why what Linford just said seems out of place.

I rub at my eye, trying to make the tic stop, and then it hits me.

Linford lives with his mum, sister and stepdad in a ground-floor flat. He doesn’t have any stairs at home to fall down.

At break-time, we don’t go to the snack bar. There’s more silent standing around the courtyard, Linford staring at his phone and the rest of us looking at the floor.

An incoming text beeps and Linford shields the message as he reads it. He sends a text back to whoever it is and puts his phone back in his pocket.

‘I won’t be coming out after school,’ he says to nobody in particular, looking down. ‘I’ve got a bit of work on.’

‘What kind of work?’ I ask him.

‘Bits and bobs.’ He shrugs. ‘It pays well and that’s all I’m bothered about.’

The air feels thick and warm so I loosen my tie and pull at my shirt collar but nothing seems to alleviate the stickiness.

We’ve all been in different lessons this morning so I haven’t had a chance to ask Jack or Harry what they think about Linford’s black eye, and I don’t want to text them in case he sees my message. I can’t even shoot them a knowing glance because neither of them will look at me. It seems to take forever for the bell to sound, but when it does, we all split for second-period lessons and, finally, I feel a bit lighter inside.

As soon as lessons break for lunch, I head straight for the Technology block, but there’s nobody waiting. I wonder if the lads have had to take Linford to the school nurse to look at his eye, and nip over to the Admin block, but there is a notice on the nurse’s door saying she’s out for lunch.

By the time I get to the dinner hall, they are all at the front of the queue, starting to make their choices. I grab a tray and push in front of a Year Seven boy so I’m right behind Harry.

‘Thanks for waiting for me,’ I hiss.

‘Sorry, mate, not my call.’ He presses his lips together in apology and slides his tray further down the counter as the queue moves along.

I glance down the line at Linford’s scowling face. I don’t know when things started to change or what’s making him so angry with me. After what I witnessed outside his flat, I know things aren’t great at home for him, but that’s hardly my fault. Maybe I could try speaking to him on his own before afternoon lessons start.

I don’t feel hungry at all but I choose a tuna salad baguette and a yogurt from the counter display. My stomach feels bloated like I already stuffed far too much food down.

Usually we end up bolting our lunch at the end of our sitting because we’re so busy talking and messing about instead of eating. Today, I look around our table and see the tops of three heads as everyone shovels their food in silently.

Back outside we sit on the low wall that runs around the courtyard. I slip off my blazer and look at the others. ‘Anyone fancy a game of footie down the field later?’

‘I thought you were too busy to play football with us these days.’ Linford sniffs, banging the heel of his shoe on the floor.

‘Don’t be daft.’ I laugh, but it catches in my throat and comes out as a cough. ‘We had people coming over the other night when you asked me, that’s all.’

When I think about the identity of those visitors, the palms of my hands turn instantly clammy.

‘Maybe you’re trying to tell us summat, Cal, like you don’t want to be mates with us any more.’

‘Course not!’ It feels like there’s a jagged piece of flint sitting right in the middle of my throat. Jack and Harry are sitting here and we’re in the middle of the busy yard, but this might be the only chance I get to say my piece. ‘Look, have I done something wrong? Are you mad cos I followed you home? I wish you’d just come out and say it if you’ve got a gripe with me.’

‘What are you going on about?’ Linford gives me a dark, meaningful look through narrowed eyes.

Jack and Harry look down at their feet and then up at the sky.

‘I dunno, it’s just that we don’t seem to have such a laugh as we all used to.’ I keep my voice light and relaxed, but underneath the table my toes are scrunched up tightly in my shoes.

‘Yeah, well, you never want a laugh any more, do you?’ Linford snaps back. ‘I’ve seen the look on your face just lately, when we’re having a bit of fun with certain people.’

By ‘fun’ I’m guessing he means bullying Sergei.

‘You used to enjoy the craic, Cal, and now you’ve started acting like we’re boring you. If you don’t like our style then why don’t you just—’

‘Hey, look who it is,’ Jack calls out. I could hug him for providing a distraction until I see exactly who is heading our way and who now has Linford’s full attention.

‘I’m sick of seeing that ignorant git,’ Linford mutters behind gritted teeth. ‘He’s like our shadow, lately. Follows us everywhere.’

He’s using his quiet, seemingly calm voice, but a grim expression has crawled over his face. His eyebrows knot together and his jaw sets. When he stands up, his whole body is rigid.

‘Come on,’ I say, too brightly. ‘Let’s go down to the sports field now and have a kickabout.’

Nobody is listening.

I have no choice but to watch as Sergei approaches.

My body feels hot and cold at the same time and I sit down on the wall again, thinking of all the ways this terrible situation is about to get even worse.