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his head on the door arch. It feels as if sunlight is entering the room. He smiles shyly at the group but doesn’t introduce himself.

‘Please do mingle and say hello to the other guests,’ says Becky. She glares at Turner, who is helping himself to a miniature Victoria sponge, but blushes charmingly when he returns her look with a wide grin. ‘In approximately twenty minutes, Mrs Roe, who checked you in when you first arrived, will be giving the health and safety briefing, and then we’ll begin our tour. Turner and I will be here to answer any questions you may have. I will be just outside finalising a few details, and I’ll see you in about thirty-five minutes.’

‘Give or take,’ I mutter.

‘Damned efficient I’d say.’

I turn to see a smiling Marie-Claire dusting icing sugar off her chin.

‘Can anyone really have teeth that white?’ adds Julia, sidling up on my left and giving me a cheeky smile.

I smile in return. ‘Exactly what I was thinking.’

‘And who is he?’ says Marie-Claire, pointing discreetly towards the man who arrived with the bird woman.

He must be over six feet tall, with the long, lean physique and tanned skin of someone who’s used to working outdoors. His pale blond hair and striking green eyes give him a fairy-tale quality.

‘A Viking god,’ Julia whispers.

‘If only I fancied men,’ Marie-Claire sighs.

‘I get the feeling that you two are going to be a bit of a handful,’ I say, in a playful tone I haven’t exercised in months.

‘We probably will need keeping in check,’ Julia replies, flashing huge, innocent eyes.

We’ve barely gotten around to introducing ourselves when Becky re-emerges and begins handing out health and safety checklists. I am more than happy to be relieved from my discussion with Marvin and Roz, a middle-aged couple from Sussex, regarding their self-published anthology of poems about their pet cats Byron and Will.

‘Byron is named after Lord Byron,’ Roz says.

‘And Will is named after Shakespeare. William Shakespeare,’ Marvin adds.

I have never welcomed a health and safety briefing more in my life.

‘Thank you, Mrs Roe,’ says Becky, after what seems like an interminable session on fire alarms, not smoking in one’s room, and even an overview of how to safely use a kettle. ‘If you all follow me back into the reception area, we’ll begin our tour.’ I exchange glances with Julia and Marie-Claire before following the group back to the main reception area. ‘Welcome to Lennoxton Academy,’ Becky begins. Turner has mysteriously vanished, replaced by a day boarder named Malcolm, who is also employed as a Student Ambassador for the summer. ‘Founded in eighteen forty-two, Lennoxton Academy is one of the most prestigious and well-respected boarding schools in Europe, with students from around the world including the United States, United Arab Emirates, and South East Asia. Lennoxton prides itself on its multicultural approach to teaching and learning. This approach is reflected in the success of our alumni, who include European and Middle Eastern royalty as well as numerous heads of industry including those in Thailand, China, Nigeria, and Kenya. The Lennoxton philosophy of …’

I had read it all on the website and so I let my attention drift to the countless coats of arms that speckle the grey stone interior.

‘McIntosh, McKenzie, Buchanan, Boyd,’ I mumble, and swivelling my head to the left, find myself intrigued by a less traditional inventory. ‘D’Annunzia, Rossa, Muscatolli.’ I twist further and am delighted to discover some more modern additions. ‘Abadi, Barkutwo, Huang, Malouf.’

‘And if you’ll just follow me.’ Becky’s determined nasal twang pierces its way into my consciousness. ‘As you all arrived via the main gate and drive,’ she continues enthusiastically, ‘I wonder if any of you noticed the CCTV cameras outside the gate, as well as those that would have tracked your journey along the road to the Rep?’ The twelve guests exchange uncertain looks. ‘Just as it should be,’ she declares triumphantly. ‘Our security procedures are top notch and designed to protect Lennoxton students at all costs.’

‘Which would indicate,’ whispers Julia, ‘that some may come from more questionable origins than the pretty shields above our heads would suggest.’

‘Now come on chérie,’ replies Marie-Claire, wagging a finger at her girlfriend. ‘You’re not implying that this school is a safe house for the children of well-to-do criminals, are you?’

‘As an additional safety measure,’ Becky continues, ‘access to the student-centred areas of the school, including boarding houses and teaching areas, is via secured entrances and exits. Doorways and gates are operated by a keypad system. For the purposes of this week you will all have one code for all entrances. Now, if you follow me along this hallway to the rear of the building, we will pass some of the other areas, including the main hall, canteen, and library. I will also show you how to use the keypad system.’

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake,’ Julia whispers.

‘Do you think she’s always like this?’ whispers Marie-Claire.

‘Always,’ comes the response. We turn to see a dour-looking Malcolm standing next to us.

‘Oh, you poor thing,’ says Julia, patting his arm sympathetically.

We tour a series of buildings, which are laid out in a tidy quadrangle behind the Rep.

‘And finally,’ declares Becky, ‘behind the quad and just to our left we have the boarding areas. These have been recently upgraded thanks to a generous donation from one of our benefactors. In front we have the junior and middle school residences, which can house up to one hundred pupils each including house masters and matrons, and a little further back are the sixth-form residences where you’ll be based.’

I stop to admire the beauty of it all. Edgecombe Hall, with its damp, squashed, crumbling halls of residence, and the more recent addition of an ugly prefabricated group house for the swimming team, has nothing on this. Lennoxton’s two-storey dormitory, with its surrounding landscaped gardens, looks more like an upscale adult apartment complex than private boarding halls. While Becky drones on about eco this and sustainable that, I wander off, heading towards the chapel: a

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