in small groups, others sitting on benches, coats on and huddled over phones as they ate from lunch boxes and packets of crisps.
‘What’s the school’s policy on mobile phones?’ I asked Stevie as we made our way to the main entrance.
‘They have to be switched off while on school premises,’ he replied.
‘Is yours off?’
‘I’ll turn it off now.’
We went to the reception desk, separated from the school office by a low counter, and the secretary recognised Stevie and knew we were expected. ‘I’ll give Carolyn a ring and let her know you’re here,’ she said. ‘Please sign in the visitors’ book and then take a seat.’
I thanked her and, having signed in, we sat in the chairs arranged on the far side of the reception area, and Stevie powered off his phone. I looked around. The walls were adorned with framed photographs of school achievements – winning sports teams, successful examination results, students who’d become distinguished in a particular field, dignitaries and famous people who’d visited the school, and so on, much as you’d find in many secondary schools.
Stevie was clearly anxious and, with no phone to occupy him, was tapping his foot nervously.
‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ I told him. ‘You know Carolyn, and she and I want to help you get back into school.’
He gave a curt nod, but his foot kept tapping. I felt as though we were waiting to see the dentist rather than his mentor.
‘There she is,’ he said as a young woman entered reception.
We both stood. ‘Hello, Stevie,’ Carolyn said, then, ‘Nice to meet you, Cathy.’
‘And you,’ I replied. Carolyn was fashionably dressed in black leggings and a long, baggy top. In her mid to late twenties, she didn’t look much older than Stevie or many of the other senior pupils.
‘I have a small office at the top of the building,’ she said brightly. ‘This way.’
We followed her out of reception and up two flights of stairs, passing students coming down. None of them seemed to know Stevie. ‘My classroom is at the other end of the building,’ he told me, so I guessed that’s where most of his classmates gathered.
Carolyn showed us into her office, just big enough to hold a small desk, a filing cabinet and three steel-framed chairs. She pulled her chair out from behind the desk, so we sat in a small circle.
‘This is where I see students if they want to talk in private,’ she explained to me. ‘Some of my job is counselling, and I spend time in the classroom supporting those who need extra help.’
‘Thank you for seeing us at such short notice,’ I said. ‘Do you have my contact details?’ She didn’t. I gave them to her and she said she’d advise the secretary, so she could update the school’s records.
‘So, Stevie,’ she said, smiling reassuringly at him, ‘a lot of change for you. How do you like it at Cathy’s?’
‘It’s all right,’ he said with a shrug. You could hardly expect him to be jumping for joy given he’d had to leave home the day before.
‘It must be strange,’ Carolyn commiserated. ‘Are you seeing your grandparents and your brother and sister?’
‘Yes,’ Stevie replied tightly.
‘Good. You’re a bright student, but you have missed a lot of school. The last time I saw you, you told me you didn’t feel you fitted in and school seemed irrelevant. We talked about ways I could help you. How do you feel now about school?’
He shrugged.
‘There is another reason Stevie hasn’t been in school,’ I said. ‘Apparently he’s being bullied.’
‘Not all the time,’ he put in, embarrassed. ‘Just some days.’
‘You shouldn’t be bullied at all,’ I said.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Carolyn asked, concerned. ‘We talked about how you were getting on with other students. Didn’t you feel able to tell me?’
He shrugged again and looked uncomfortable.
‘Is it one person who’s doing the bullying or a group?’ Carolyn asked.
‘One mainly, and the others follow.’
‘What have they been doing?’ she asked, leaning in to invite confidence. ‘Can you tell me? You know we have a firm anti-bullying policy here in school.’
My heart went out to him, he looked so self-conscious. ‘They call me names and push me in the corridor,’ he admitted. ‘Sometimes they put things in my bag and follow me into the toilet, that type of stuff.’ I guessed this was probably only part of it – the bit he felt able to tell.
‘What is the name of the ringleader?’ Carolyn asked.
‘What will you do?’ Stevie replied, clearly worried about reprisals.
‘The headmaster and I will talk to the person and make it clear his or her behaviour is unacceptable and if it doesn’t stop they will be suspended.’
‘It’s —,’ he said, and gave a boy’s name.
‘I know who you mean,’ Carolyn said seriously. ‘We’ll speak to him this afternoon so you can return to school tomorrow morning. But in future, Stevie, please come and see me if you have any problems.’
He gave a half-hearted nod, and Carolyn then went on to talk about his school work. He was behind in most subjects, partly from missing school, but also because he hadn’t been handing in his homework.
‘I haven’t got anywhere quiet to study at my gran’s,’ he said, which may have been true.
‘That won’t be a problem now,’ I said. ‘You have your own bedroom, which has bookshelves and a small table for studying. Also, I showed you the front room you can use, which has a computer.’ So there won’t be any excuses, I could have added but didn’t.
Carolyn told Stevie – I guessed not for the first time – that it was an important year for him academically, as they had started the syllabi for examinations the following year. Stevie promised to do better in future, and Carolyn then talked easily and at length about gender identity. She said that schools were having to address how best to accommodate LGBT+ – lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and other – students. In line with other schools they were considering installing gender-neutral toilets and changing rooms for PE. She said there was no provision for this at present and asked Stevie if he had any particular concerns about using the boys’ toilets and changing rooms. If so, she’d look into what other arrangements could be made.
‘No, I’m OK with that,’ he said, a little embarrassed.
Carolyn added that at present Stevie would be expected to wear the boys’ school uniform, which wasn’t so different from the girls’ (although they had a choice
