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‘Really, I’m so sorry,’ James said, shaking his head. ‘I feel terrible.’

Charlotte found herself reaching for his arm. She managed to stop herself just in time, but their eyes met, lingering for a moment before James looked away.

‘Come and have a cup of coffee in the office,’ Mr. Wilson said, before Charlotte could say anything. ‘Ms. Harding has to look after her class.’

Charlotte wanted to say something more, but Mr. Wilson was right, and the look in his eyes told her that he expected to be obeyed. She headed back to her classroom, where the kids were getting ready to leave. ‘Where’s Billy?’ she asked a couple of boys as they pulled on their coats.

‘He’s already gone,’ one said.

‘Is he going to after school club?’

‘No, he said he was going to his mum’s work.’

Charlotte nodded. She could call Jacob later and see how Billy was feeling. She ushered the rest of the children out, waiting in the playground until they had caught their buses or otherwise headed for home, then went back to her classroom to tidy up.

You could tell them a million times; you could keep them after school as punishment even, but Charlotte was yet to find a magic button to make little children tidy up. Tables and chairs were all over the place, coats forgotten despite the cold, bits of stationery left scattered across the floor. She moved between the tables, picking things up, shifting furniture back into position, adjusting overflowing pots of pens, markers, and Pritt Sticks, reattaching posters that had been ripped or come unstuck.

In the corner, the bin was tilting on its side, threatening to fall over completely, spilling its contents. Charlotte hurried over to pick it up, and there, amongst some crumpled paper near the top, was a little blue box. She fished it out, staring in dismay at the little Lego kit Billy had received from James. The box had been damaged, as though the boy had bashed it against something hard.

What had made him do such a thing? The trick hadn’t gone quite as James had planned, but Billy had still won a little prize, and ought to have been pleased. Charlotte dusted it off and slipped it into her desk drawer to give to Billy at a later time.

Back in the staffroom, she found Mr. Wilson and several other teachers standing around in a circle. James stood in the centre, performing a series of neat tricks with items of stationery. A pen disappeared up his sleeve, only to change colour, then become two pens. Even Old Don Jones was clapping, although on the outside of the circle, Amy Clairmont and Jennifer Stevens looked less amused, as they watched with arms folded. Charlotte waited until James had finished and the teachers had dispersed, before calling him over.

‘Thank you again for coming,’ she said.

‘A pleasure,’ he said. ‘And it was lovely to see you again too. I know things may not have worked out between us … but if you would like to get a coffee sometime—just as friends—that would be a great delight for me.’

Charlotte almost said yes. Not because she wanted to, but because there was something about the smoothness of his tone that made it impossible to refuse. Some kind of hypnosis perhaps. She shook her head, then smiled, then nodded, then tried to think of something appropriate to say.

‘Ah, maybe. I’ll see. This season, you know? We’re so busy at school, and now we have to perform at the Christmas festival, of course, and then there’s getting ready for Christmas, and with—’

He leaned closer. ‘Father Christmas,’ he said. ‘Don’t forget about him. He’s sure to come this year, isn’t he?’

‘Yes, yes, of course.’

‘He should be making an appearance at the festival.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘I can’t wait for that. I do love Christmas. It’s the most magical time of all. Oh … by the way, I almost forgot.’

‘What is it?’

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little jewellery box. Charlotte’s breath caught and she opened her mouth to refuse, but there was something in James’s eyes which made it impossible.

‘Forgive me if I’m out of line. I had planned to give this to you at the end of our last date, but things … took a turn, and I forgot. It’s a simple thing, nothing much. It belonged to my mother. She always loved to wear it at Christmas, and since she’s gone, it’s just collected dust. Please don’t take it the wrong way, it can be a symbol of our friendship, that’s all. And if you get the chance to get some use out of it, maybe wear it over Christmas a little, I’m sure my mother—wherever she is—would be pleased.’

‘James, I’m not sure I can accept this.’

‘Please.’ He pressed the little box into her palm. ‘Even if there is nothing between us … it would make me happy.’

What could she say? She forced a smile, nodded. ‘Thank you again for coming,’ she said. ‘And thank you so much for your gift. I’ll try to wear it over Christmas sometime.’

‘That would be wonderful. And again, today was my pleasure.’

He reached for the suitcase at his feet. Charlotte went to help him, their hands briefly brushing. James smiled and shook his head.

‘You’re busy,’ he said. ‘I’ll see myself out. I hope to see you at a show sometime,’ he said. ‘And don’t forget about coffee.’ He smiled, and it was hard for Charlotte not to immediately agree. ‘Anytime, anywhere.’

Along with Mr. Wilson and Maud, she did walk him as far as the school entrance, where she waved him off and watched as he walked back across the playground.

‘What a legend,’ Mr. Wilson said.