Chapter 1: The yellow leaves of the weeping willow in autumn
Hartington House, Dorset October 2005
Gus crept up to his mother’s study door and put his ear to the crack. He inhaled the familiar smell of Marlboro Lites and felt his frustration mount at the sound of her husky voice speaking down the telephone. He knew she was talking to his teacher, Mr Marlow. He assumed, correctly, that she wasn’t on his side. Gus was a problem no one wanted to take the trouble to solve. ‘I don’t believe it!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m so sorry, Mr Marlow. It won’t happen again. It really won’t. His father will be down tonight from London. I’ll make sure he talks to him . . . You’re right, it’s absolutely not on to bite another child . . . I’ll find him and send him straight back to school.’ Then her tone softened and Gus heard her chair scrape across the wooden floorboards as she stood up. ‘I know he can be a bit aggressive, but we only moved from London a couple of months ago. It’s been difficult for him. He’s left all his friends behind. He’s only seven. He’ll settle in. Just give him time, Mr Marlow? Please. He’s a good boy really.’
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