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‘Is that … has Olly written to you?’ I hear myself shout. ‘Does he know Tom’s at Steelfield School?’ A shaky hand flies to my mouth.

The handwritten document is quickly covered with a typed sheet.

‘I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,’ says Mr Cockrun.

‘Olly.’ I turn to Kate for support. ‘Has he written to the school? It looked like his writing …’

Mr Cockrun gives a false-sounding laugh. ‘Are you talking about this?’ He holds up the handwritten letter for half a second, then buries it again under paper. ‘These are Karen’s notes. The lunchtime assistant.’

I swallow, knowing I’ve just made myself look paranoid. Unhinged. But it looked so much like Olly’s writing … and I don’t trust the headmaster.

What if they’re letting Olly into the school? Giving him access to Tom?

Divorce is terrible, Mr Kinnock. What you must be going through. Of course we’ll let you spend some time with your son during the school day. What the mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her …

I put a hand to my stomach, trying to breathe the thoughts away.

‘Let’s talk about next steps,’ says Kate, glancing at Mr Cockrun.

‘The next steps are you allowing me to remove Tom from this school,’ I say, more loudly than I mean to.

‘There’s nothing to suggest the school is doing anything untoward,’ says Kate, her voice gentle. ‘We’ve worked very hard to get Tom’s placement there and give him a smooth transition.’

‘He’s coming homeinjured!’ I scream, eyes furious and accusing. ‘He’s havingseizures! And what if his father is getting in? What if they’re giving him access?’

Nobody says anything.

It can’t be the school, Miss Riley. Just admit something’s happening at home …

I feel sick to my stomach.

Absolutely frozen with terror, an animal backed into a corner.

‘If I moved Tom to a new school…’ I turn to Kate. ‘What would happen?’

‘We would have to step in. Especially in light of recent information. As we’ve heard, there’s nothing to suggest these injuries are happening there.’

‘So how else could Tom be getting them?’

Once again, the room falls silent.

‘Please.’ There are tears in my eyes. ‘Why will no one listen? I’m telling you –something is happening at that school. Have none of you read our history? Tom’s father was abusive. He’s getting into the school somehow.’

‘That’s simply not possible,’ says Mr Cockrun.

‘There areholesin the fence.’

‘I’ve looked into that,’ says Kate, her voice still gentle. ‘And I’m satisfied with the explanation.’

‘It would be impossible for an adult to come into our school and harm a child,’ says Mr Cockrun.

‘Thenhowis my son being hurt in your care?’ It all becomes too much then. I leap to my feet. ‘Excuse me,’ I stammer. ‘I need … Excuse me.’ I stride towards the door, fumbling with the door handle.

Someone calls after me.

Then I’m in a bathroom, being violently sick into a toilet.

There is soft tapping at the door. ‘Lizzie?’ It’s Kate.