Will grins at us all, shrugs. “Never did anything wrong.” “Bollocks!” Femi cries. “You got away with murder. You never got caught. Or they turned a blind eye, with your dad being head and all that.” “Nope,” Will says. “I was good as gold.” “Well,” Angus says, “I’ll never understand how you aced those GCSEs when you did no fucking work.” I shoot a look at Will, try to catch his eye—could Angus have guessed?
