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Dylan stands tall as he can on the stage, strains, his mouth wide enough to catch an orange. His big buck teeth gleam in the spotlights. He belts out this term's school song.

He ought to belt it out. He made it up.

Always the same tune (a Helen Sanderson original). But different words each term. A great honour if they're yours. The words wobble on the overhead screen.

Dylan stares into a spotlight. It's like the sun burns into him. He loves Mrs Sanderson so much. This song is for her. He stands on tiptoe, singing.

Then the song comes to an end. There is a cold silence. Unexpected. All the kids seem to get down off the stage in slow motion. Dylan's eyes go blurry for a moment.

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