‘She stared at me for a moment, then plunged the knife into my stomach.’ I told it like a story. Well, I guess it was, but I didn’t think it was one I would be able to tell.

After being in hospital for months, me and dad moved.

I broke about a year later. My only vest was in the wash, so I couldn’t wear it. Despite my attempts to hide the scar while changing for PE, Michael saw it.

He sat down at my empty table at lunch and asked me about it, so I told him. I have never told anyone before, but for some reason I trusted him.

I looked at my watch. The bell was about to ring.

‘She’s in prison now, my mum. My dad thinks it’s my fault, but she’s the one who tried to kill me. It’s so unfair! I can’t wait until June. I’ll be eighteen then, and I can finally leave,’ I scratched the back of my head and chuckled, ‘I’ve never told anyone that before.’

Michael grinned, ‘I must be special then, Tom.’