"Time's up," informed the exam invigilator, breaking through the silence of the exam room. "Please put down your pens and close your answer books."

A sigh rippled through the classroom, followed by the scraping of chairs as people sat back for the first time in two hours.

"What did you think of that test?" I asked Richard as we left the exam room.

"Very strange," he responded as we filed out.

"Fancy taking exams in the middle of June," I continued, "I thought we'd finished all the exams in May."

We were the second year to take the special paper. There were plenty of mutterings about what a waste that two hour exam was.

"I hear it is still at the experimental stage," I heard Helen mumble to her friend Cat. "I know last year that nobody was chosen from this school and only six people nationwide."

"What's the prize?" I asked Helen as I slowed down so she would catch up.

"Didn't you pay attention last week?" she rebuked. "It is a test to find people that would benefit from a new teaching method," she recited from last weeks briefing. "If they pass this test, they will take a longer test. If they still pass, they get sent to a very expensive private school where they use the new teaching methods."

"Who pays?" I said intrigued. I wish I'd paid more attention when this was all explained.

"The government," she responded. "Apparently they recognise that these students wouldn't excel in existing schools, so they are paying for a method that will."

* * *

Two weeks passed and nobody heard anything about the tests. After a few days they were old hat and after a week they had all but been forgotten about.

On the Monday exactly two weeks after the exam, I was handed a letter addressed to my parents.

"What's this?" I asked the teacher, as only Tina and I had been handed these letters.

"I'm not sure," the teacher replied. "The head just handed these to me at the end of lunch, telling me to hand them out just before you go home."

I was itching to know what was in the letter, but since it was addressed to my parents I just put it into my school bag. When I got home, I took the letter out of my bag and examined the envelope in more detail. Nothing gave away its contents. It was just a plain white envelope addressed to the parents/guardians of David Grant. There were no other marks on the envelope. Frustrated, I placed it on the kitchen table for my parents when they got in from work. I grabbed a glass of orange juice and went upstairs to play on the computer.

I was supposed to do my homework, but what was the point? If I did anything well, I was teased by my friends. If I didn't, I upset my parents. Since I was better at avoiding my parents, the choice was easy.

Twenty minutes later I heard a door bang signalling my brother was home. I sighed and tried to concentrate on the screen. My attempts were, as usual, futile, as he came barging into the room stinking of sweat from playing football in the open land between the school and home.

"Hi Eric," I said glancing up. "How was your day?"

"Great," he said. "I got chosen for next weeks grudge match against those pansies at Little Tempton."

"That's good," I said, trying to return to the computer. I hated the language that he used. Pansy was a word that people like my brother used to use to describe me. That was till two years ago, when I realised that mixing with the girls was not something that was good for my health.

My older brother towered above me and he ruffled my hair as he passed me. "Don't let Mum or Dad catch you playing without doing your homework," he said.

My brother might have enjoyed a good game, but he was also a diligent student. He didn't appear to get the same ribbing when he got an A for his exams. Only once did somebody try to make an issue out of it and the boy regretted his decision soon afterwards. Nobody could prove that it was my brother that had done it, but nobody wanted to chance being pulverised.

I turned off the game and pulled out my homework. When Eric came back from the shower, I was lying on my bed reading the latest book set for English Literature.

"What you reading?" Eric asked, as he pulled a tee shirt on over his thin lean muscular body.

"Cider with Rosie," I replied

"Is that a school copy you're using, or the one we inherited from Aunt Charlotte?"

"The inherited copy."

"Well, be careful. You know how valuable it is since Laurie Lee died."

"I know, but the modern editions aren't as readable as this old copy."

By quarter to six my Mum and Dad were home, and Mum started to make our meal. I wish Mum or Dad could cook properly, but neither of them had been taught. Therefore most of the meals were ready meals that they microwave. The best non-ready meal they could manage was sausages, chips and beans.

I wanted to take cooking at school so I would have a better understanding of food and maybe look after myself better. The food that they served was often not very healthy and was often too salty for my tastes. My parents discussed it and came to the conclusion that I ought to do woodwork instead. What an absolute waste of time.

At the shout of "Meal's ready," we all trooped down the stairs. Tonight was cauliflower cheese, which had some type of smell that didn't resemble either cheese or cauliflower. Beside the plate were two pieces of thickly butter bread. Oh joy.

I noticed that the letter addressed to my parents was still sitting unopened on the table. "I was given this letter today," I said handing it to my Mum. Dad was very good with his hands, but reading wasn't his strongest point.

"I'll read it later," she said, putting it on the side with the plastic microwave dishes. "Let me eat before it goes cold."

"Yes, Mum," I said, as I watched a blob of melted cheese drip from the container onto the envelope.

Eric, who was the only other one that noticed, patted my leg in sympathy and indicated I should eat up.

At nine I still hadn't heard about what was in the letter and went to investigate. The kitchen had been cleared of the waste, but the letter, with the blob of cheese, still sat unopened.

I took the letter and eventually found Mum sitting half asleep in the lounge. Dad was nowhere to be seen and I presumed he'd gone down the pub. "Mum, you've not opened the letter," I complained.

"I'm too tired to read it now. I'll deal with it tomorrow night."

"But Mum, the teacher said it was important that the permission slip inside has to be returned tomorrow."

"Okay," she said, reluctantly opening the letter. She found the reply slip and scrawled her signature on the dotted line and handed the whole package to me unread.

"Thanks," I said, not really surprised at her attitude. I went upstairs and read the letter. I'd passed the initial test and tomorrow at nine was invited to take a more detailed test.

Eric came into the room as I started crowing. "You alright?" he asked.

I handed him the letter, which he quickly read. "Well done, David," he said slapping me on the back. "You'd better get an early night as you want to be at your best. In fact, I'll come to bed now myself so I don't disturb you later."

"Thanks," I said. Living in a two bedroom house was sometimes cramped, but we survived. Mum and Dad weren't very well paid and it was the best they could afford.

The next day after registration I would have normally had geography. Today I slipped away and headed towards the school hall, where the exams were always held. I hadn't told anybody in the class about my reaching stage two, as I didn't want people to think I'd been clever. In fact, I'd deliberately tried to answer questions wrong, but some of them were about perception and there weren't right or wrong answers.

At nine, the five of us that were waiting outside trooped into the hall. There were five tables set out and we were told which table to sit at. When the three hour test started, I realised that each of the exam papers was marked with our names on them. At the end, we all staggered out while they prepared the hall for lunch.

While we were waiting for lunch, I chatted a bit with Helen, George, Frank and Tina. As we chatted about the questions, it transpired that all the papers were different and were tailored towards each person's interests.

During that afternoon I got a good amount of teasing about being selected to sit the second paper. On the way home, I was set upon by two boys in my class. They were upset that I'd got to sit the second paper and they'd not. Just as their fists started flying, they were yanked from me.

"If I ever catch either of you bullying David again, you won't live to regret it," he promised, shoving them into the wall of the house we were passing. "In fact, pass the word. If David even has a finger laid on him, I'll blame you two and you two will suffer the consequences."

The two boys ran off and I ambled home with Eric. Nothing was said between us. Nothing needed to be said. Yet again I'd shown to the world how weak and useless I was. I couldn't even walk home without my brother's protection. Why was I ever born?

That evening I tucked into burnt fish fingers. I'm sure that my taste buds had died years ago, suffering the torture of my Mum's cooking. Actually it could be worse; Dad could be cooking. Dad only knows how to cook one thing and that is beans on toast. The toast was normally burnt and the beans cooked till the tomato sauce congealed into a single sticky blob.

During the meal Eric suddenly piped up, "How did your special test go today?"

"What test?" queried Dad, looking at Mum, who just shrugged her shoulders.

"The one that the letter was about yesterday," I said. "The one that you wrote the permission slip for."

"So how was it?" asked Eric again.

"It was very long, but I think I did okay. It's difficult to tell as there didn't appear to be a right or wrong answer to many questions."

The rest of the meal was taken up by Mum wondering what was going to happen in tonight's soaps. So tonight would be a good night, like most weeknights, to avoid being near the television.

* * *

On Thursday just before going home, I was given another letter. Again it was in a plain white envelope addressed to the parents/guardians of David Grant. This time, I kept hold of it till after the meal.

"Er, Dad," I said, as I approached him as he finished washing the dishes.

"What is it?" he asked gruffly. I presume he was itching to go to the pub.

"I got a letter from school addressed to you and Mum," I explained.

"Well, give it to your Mum then," he retorted as he walked out the door.

So much for that idea. I walked into the lounge, just as the music started signalling the end of one of this evening's soap operas.

"Hi, Mum," I said, shuffling through the door. "I got another letter from school today."

"That's nice," she said, switching channels and not paying me any attention.

"It's the same type of letter as Monday," I tried to explain again.

"More bloody forms to fill in," she huffed. "Okay, pass it here."

I passed her the letter, which she opened. This time she scanned the letter and again scribbled her signature on the attached permission slip.

"Looks like you passed that test," she said. "You've got to see someone tomorrow to make sure you've not lied or somethin'."

"Thanks, Mum," I said, taking the letter from her and went back to my bedroom.

"So what was the letter about?" asked Eric, looking up from his history text book.

"Looks like I've passed the exams and I have an interview tomorrow."

"Well done," he said. "I think you might do well in a place where you're not going to be picked on."

That night I didn't sleep well. I was frightened about the interview the next day. After two hours of tests, it appeared, by the contents of the second test, that they knew me very well. After five hours of tests, I'm sure they knew my inside leg measurement. What was the interview about? What would happen if I passed? Would my parents let me go to this other school?

"Stop worrying and go to sleep," mumbled Eric. "You're keeping me awake."

"Sorry."

Under strict instructions, I gave up my thoughts and quickly fell asleep.

The next morning I combed my hair an extra time to make sure that it looked neat. I looked in the mirror and wondered how I could make the school uniform look better. After a few minutes of trying, I gave up. When Eric fitted in this size top, he was slightly broader, so all the school tops were loose, especially round the neck.

* * *

At just before eleven, I went to the school reception and handed in my permission slip.

"How many are being interviewed?" I asked Miss Hill, the school secretary.

"You're the third and final one," she said. "Frank was in at nine and Helen is in now."

"Did Frank pass the interview?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I'm not told anything about the tests or interviews. I'm just told to organise things by the head. I don't think he knows much either."

Just then Helen walked out of the interview and, before I could ask her anything about it, I was ushered in.

"Hi, I'm Rachel. Have a seat."

Rachel closed the door, sat down opposite me and pulled a thick file from her briefcase.

"David Oscar Grant. Parents are Brian Oscar Grant and Angela Natasha Grant, nee Green and sometimes known as Angel. You have a brother Mathew Eric Grant, mostly known as Eric."

She then continued to rattle off facts about me and my family that took me by surprise. She, or somebody, had been doing a lot of digging. Some of the facts I wasn't even aware of. I didn't know that my Mum had once had a brother and that he'd killed himself.

"Why all the research?" I asked.

"We like to know about the person to make sure of our facts and to make sure that you are indeed what the tests say you are. No matter how good the research, there is little we can find out about your day-to-day life. So, please tell me about a typical school day and what your weekends are like."

As I talked about my life, Rachel just leaned back in her chair and listened. There was no note taking and no interruptions. She just let me talk till I was done. What I hadn't realised before was how isolated I was in my life. I just accepted my situation and lived as best as I could without being beaten up on every street corner. As I reflected on what I'd said, I saw that I wasn't living my life; I just existed.

Once Rachel saw I was finished reflecting on what I'd said, she then asked another strange question. "I'd like you to describe for five minutes each your perceptions of Frank and Helen."

I thought about querying this, but I bit my tongue and thought about what I was going to say. I knew little about Frank, as he mixed with a small group of people I hardly knew. They kept themselves to themselves. Helen, on the other hand, I knew well. In fact, I used to be good friends with her before I found mixing with girls was leading to me failing to fit in. Once I'd stopped mixing with the girls, the taunts of pansy stopped, but I never replaced that friendship.

Once I'd gathered my thoughts, I managed to talk about Frank for barely two minutes before I switched to Helen. I talked about her for just over ten minutes. Again, Rachel didn't stop me when the time was up. She just sat back and listened.

"A few questions which I have that you didn't answer. You used to have lunch with Helen till about two years ago. Why did you stop?"

"It wasn't good for my health," I replied. "At first, it wasn't too bad. I was called things like pansy as I often sat with girls. Things, however, started to get worse. The teasing got worse and some people started to beat me up. The teachers didn't care, and my parents just said it was part of growing up. When I stopped sitting with the girls, things got slightly better, but I still got attacked if I was seen with them on the weekend. Now I just keep to myself."

Once I'd finished, she asked, "Before you go, do you have any questions for me?"

I did, but I was worried that she would think I was rude, so I just replied, "No, miss."

"It's Rachel to you. I don't stand on formality, but if you insist on being formal I actually have the title Dr Ruiz."

"Are you a shrink?" I blurted out.

"I prefer psychiatrist," she replied, "but yes, I'm a shrink. That's very perceptive of you. What made you think I was a shrink?"

"It is just that you had the ability to make me relaxed in this stressful situation, and in thinking back you had me talk for nearly all this time. I've told you a lot about myself that I've never told anybody else, and that includes me! I thought educational people were a lot older, so how come you're involved?"

Dr Ruiz thought for a moment and then replied, "Do you remember, a little back, a plane crashing into the terminal building at Gatwick?"

I just nodded, as I thought back to that time.

"Well, there was one boy who lost both of his parents. His physical injuries were so bad it changed his whole life. I was the main psychiatrist involved in the case. When the government set up this scheme, I was asked to join as that case had given me special insight into issues that stop certain people getting the full benefit from the education offered in main-stream schools."

I thought about her answer and smiled, "You're good," I said. "You managed to answer my question without actually telling me anything."

"There is that perception again. However, this wasn't the question you were going to ask, was it?"

"No," I replied. "What I wanted to know was if any of us had passed?"

"It isn't a matter of passing or failing; it is making sure that the people would fit in with the things we offer. But to answer your question, you will each be told on Monday if we can offer you a place. I can tell you, however, that one person will be offered a place, one will be refused, and we are undecided about the last person."

"Which am I?"

"You will find out on Monday," she replied, sticking to her guns. "Anything else?"

"Yes, just one question. Why? Why is this being done? I'm sure you will manage to help a small number of people a year. However, the money being spent on just research appears to be huge and something the government wouldn't normally spend. Why is it doing it?"

"You're right, there is more to this than just education. Part of it is also looking after people's health. We offer a learning facility that not just covers standard education, but is also a place where they can learn more about themselves. Due to the same reasons that they are failing in education, we find the same people are at risk from others trying to harm them, or sometimes the same people try to hurt themselves or even kill themselves. That is another reason I was employed; to help people see through issues without killing themselves."

"Sorry, but there is more to it than that."

Rachel paused for a moment, "Yes, for some people, there is more to it. For some people, the government does have an ulterior motive which I can't talk about. However, that is only for a small percentage of the people we help."

"I'm told that it is like a boarding school. The people that are accepted wouldn't live at home? Is that just during the week? Would we go home at the weekend or holidays?"

"People who get accepted normally live on campus all year, including Christmas and the summer holidays."

"You make it sound like a prison."

"Not at all, but it is for the safety not just of the person going home, but the safety of all the people in the programme."

I looked at my watch and saw it was one. I'd missed lunch, and I'd taken up an excess of Rachel's time. "I'm sorry I talked and asked so much," I apologised. "I appear to have gone way over the hour."

Rachel just handed over a piece of paper with the schedule. I'd been scheduled for two hours, where the other two had only an hour. "We knew we had more to discuss with you," Rachel said, answering my question before I asked. "A lunch should be waiting for you at reception."

That night during the meal, I decided to ask Mum about the uncle I had never heard of. "Mum, why didn't you tell me about Uncle James?"

Mum dropped her fork onto her plate, and a half chewed piece of overcooked pasta fell from her open mouth.

"Don't talk silly," scolded Dad. "You only have one uncle and that's Uncle Wayne, my brother. Your Mum doesn't have any brothers or sisters."

Eric, who had been slowly ploughing through an extra helping of chips, looked up at me.

I ignored Dad's comments and tried a different tack, "How similar am I to how he was at my age?"

"Very," replied a tiny shaky voice. "Apart from you having a computer, you could have been twins."

"Why did he kill himself?" I asked.

Eric just gasped and Dad sat there looking stunned.

"He said he couldn't live a lie any longer and killing himself would save us all a lot of pain. He died on his sixteenth birthday."

Mum just broke down into floods of tears and ran from the room. Dad didn't look at all pleased with me and said, "David, go to your room, and I don't want to see you till breakfast, when you can apologise to your mother."

Thinking about the information I'd gathered, I decided to go to bed. I could then think in peace for longer. I didn't get much thinking time as exhaustion overtook me and I fell asleep.

The next day I apologised to Mum for upsetting her. She just nodded and said, "Please don't take your own life like James did. I hadn't thought about how alike you were till you mentioned it. James killing himself destroyed my parents."

"But why did he want to kill himself. What lie did he live?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I wish I did. How did you find out about James?"

"His name was brought up in the interview. One of the reasons some kids struggle with education is they have trouble fitting in, which might lead to suicide. Apart from the new education method, they have psychiatrists on the team to help the students so they don't kill themselves."

"Is it a boarding school?" she asked.

"Yes. I'd live there all year round. I'd not even be able to come home for holidays."

"So when would we see you?" she asked.

"You wouldn't till I'd finished," I replied sadly. "I think if I get a place then I won't take it because of that."

Mum thought for a moment. I'd never seen Mum think about things before. "No," she said firmly. "If you get offered a place, you must take it. I'll make sure that Dad doesn't stop it happening. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you killed yourself, and you're enough like James for that to happen."

The weekend dragged slowly by, and I was apprehensive about Monday. At registration I was handed a note. I was to go to reception after registration. At reception sat Frank. Helen arrived a few minutes later. We just sat there, silently, awaiting knowledge of our fates.

Rachel came out of the headmaster's office and approached us. "Let's take it like Friday," she said. "Frank first, then Helen, and lastly David."

Frank got up and followed Rachel. Ten minutes later he walked out alone. "Your turn Helen," he said.

As Helen disappeared, I asked, "You get a place?"

"No," he replied, sounding slightly disappointed. "She talked a bit about things, but she said that I would learn more here."

Frank wandered off to class, and Helen soon appeared. "I've been offered a place," she said. "Rachel said I was to wait here till she's finished with you."

"Well done," I said, and wandered into the office where my educational fate awaited me.

"Hello again," she said pleasantly, "Close the door and take a seat"

When I was seated and comfortable, she said, "To cut to the chase, you have a place, if you want it and your parents agree to it."

I sat there stunned and eventually responded, "Thank you. Was I the undecided one?"

"No," she replied. "The interview just confirmed what the tests said. We were unsure about Helen till we interviewed you. She will gain slightly in the education, but you two together show an extra talent that people will help guide you."

"Is this the thing you wouldn't discuss on Friday?" I asked

"Yes, and I still can't discuss it."

"Okay, but are you also saying that if I don't go then Helen also doesn't?"

"No, we have offered her a place. However, she will get a lot more out of it if you're there, and you will get more out of it if she's there. Now let me bring Helen back in, and I can explain to both of you how we move forward."

Rachel brought back a smiling Helen. "You got offered a place too?" she squealed excitedly.

"Yes," I said. "I want to go, but I'm not sure if my parents will let me."

"I want to go too, but I hadn't thought about my parents. They'll miss me since it is a boarding school, but at least I'd see them at the holidays."

"Er, Helen," interrupted Rachel. "The school is a 365 day a year school. Due to the things the school offers, it can't be any other way."

Helen sat there stunned, "Don't I get to see them ever?" she asked.

"Once you finish school at eighteen, it is up to you."

"You knew this already?" Helen asked me.

"It was something I asked on Friday," I replied.

"If David goes, then so will I," she suddenly blurted out. "But if his parents refuse, then I won't go."

Rachel just smiled one of her little smiles. I think this is something she expected Helen to say, so I just kept quiet.

"I have arranged to see David's parents at half-twelve and then Helen's parents at two," she said. "So, at the end of school don't go home, but come to reception."

We were then dismissed, and we made our way to our lessons. One thing I must say about this selection process, it was long winded. So much waiting when you just want an answer.

At half-three the school bell rang signalling the end of the school day. I walked to reception and saw Helen waiting. "You sure about this?" I asked her.

"How can I be?" she replied. "I've no idea what is different about the school, and I can't see my family."

I just nodded my agreement, and we waited. Rachel came out of the staff toilets and said, "Sorry to keep you waiting. Let's discuss things."

We walked again into the headmaster's office. When we were seated, Helen asked, "Did they agree?"

"Yes," she said. "Both sets of parents have agreed. Tomorrow I will collect you from your houses. I'll collect you, David, at half-seven and then we will get Helen. You won't need to pack any clothes or personal belongings, as the school will provide everything you need. When I pick you up, you should have no bags at all and have empty pockets."

We were then dismissed, and we made our way home to spend the last few hours with our families.