‘Right, everyone settle down. Who’d like to start? Bradley?’

‘Sir’

‘Your work placement; where was it and what were your first impressions?’

‘Sir. It was awesome, sir,’

Justin affects a disconsolate slump as he regards Bradley Chard, a large, gregarious boy to whom life has provided a bottomless pit of entertaining and amusing opportunities. Bradley launches into a garbled, pink-faced, grinning depiction of his work experience at the advertisinf agency, sprinkling his account liberally with ‘cool’, ‘fit’, ‘wicked’ and ‘sorted’. AS far as Justin can ascertain, Bradley spent his week playing computer games, eating Pot Noodles and leering and female members of the agency team. Mr Hesketh wears an expression of weary tolerance, developed over years of listening to adolescent narrative.

‘Yes. Thank you Bradley.’

Justin slides further down in his chair in a futile attempt to become invisible and is reprieved temporarily by the selection of Harry Binks, who, to the envy of all, spent his week cleaning the team boots at Braishfield Rovers. As his attention wanders from Harry’s breathless, star-struck account of his encounter with striker Mick Barnes, Justin wonders what he can say of his own foray into the world of work:

His feelings on arriving at the HMV store of cringing, squirming self-consciousness, his initial meeting meeting with Dan, the store manager with whom he’d had to shake hands, aware of his clammy palms in contrast to Dan’s manly grip, the moment he’d been instructed to ‘shadow’ Jessica, sales assistant and goddess, hanging about behind her at the counter, unsure of what to do with his hands, tongue-tied and useless, mumbling incoherent utterances in response to her questions and requests, watching her serve customers until she’d coaxed him with an encouraging smile.

‘You can serve the next one, OK?’

Swallowing, mouth too dry to speak, eyeing the open door, willing it to remain unbreached, a couple approaching the counter, looking around for Jessica, who’s moved away to the other end to study a catalogue. The woman of the couple asking Justin a question- something to do with Bach and organs. At a loss, squeaking that he’ll get someone, sliding shame-faced up to Jessica and pointing back at the couple.

He’d fetched his parka at midday in response to the managers instruction to ‘go for lunch’ and spotted Dan and Jessica deep in discussion, casting looks in his direction. Returning at one to learn the result of this conversation, he found himself banished to the stock room to unpack items and tidy up.

‘Justin?’

Startled back to the present, Justin has no time to panic about his feedback.

‘Sir.’

In the ensuing pause, Justin has the undivided attention of his peers and catching sight of a sneering Bradley Chard sporting a superior, pitying look he is undeterred.

‘I did learn something, Sir. School’s better, I’d rather be in a classroom than in a stockroom for a week.’

This revelation is met with stunned silence until Mr Hesketh concludes the lesson.

‘You’re right, lad. The best days of your life!’

Novels by Jane Deans [Grace]: The Year of Familiar Strangers and The Conways at Earthsend. Visit my website: janedeans.com