For the first time since coming to France, it was a dank day. The temperature had plummeted and the wind was driving the rain against the coach windows. I was glad that I wasn't going to the park today. In fact the weather closely matched the mood of those on the coach; we were upset that we were going home. It had only been a short break and we had bonded well together. Would things be as good, back at school? This might have been my first holiday, but I soon got used to the freedom and relaxation. Oh, how I wish it had been longer.

It was obvious that some results were in from the previous night's escapade. Mr Hobson had positioned himself at the back of the coach, with the nearest person four rows away. When he wasn't using the PDA as a phone, he was looking at things and tapping away. It was about an hour into the journey, when my PDA pinged. I looked and saw a message from Mr Hobson.

"Julia is busy, so I need you to activate a secure connection, for my PDA only, between Hayfield Hall and another network. There should already be a connection defined to link to Marshallville, but the link hasn't been used in a while so it needs reconfiguring to be ultra secure and our end secured too, so that only specified people or devices can enter. They will be expecting the link to be established, so once it is configured you must not try to enter or you could cause issues. I have a special security tag. Do you think you'll be able to do it within the next hour?"

"Did Mr Hobson really understand what was involved?" I thought to myself. First off, I wasn't sure which server contained the interlinks, though I had a pretty good idea. Secondly, I probably didn't have access. Thirdly, the screens were taking forever to refresh, as everyone else was using their PDA's back to the school, putting a strain on the limited bandwidth. I put together a note to Mr Hobson, outlining the issues.

Ten minutes later came a message from Julia informing me which server I needed to work on and that I should already have access. I was also to cut the bandwidth of all the students PDA's and assign the spare capacity to myself. All the teachers had a separate channel, so they wouldn't be affected.

"Can I have your attention for a moment," said Mr Hobson, making his way towards the middle of the coach. "For the next hour all PDA bandwidth will be halved while an urgent task is performed. Normal service will be resumed as quickly as possible. Voice will therefore be unavailable and the live game feed will be very slow, but the text service will still be usable."

There were slight mutterings as Mr Hobson made his way to the back of the coach. It wasn't a very popular move and I knew I better get a move on. I was glad that the others didn't know it was me who was benefiting from their loss of bandwidth. With twenty times the bandwidth, the screens were soon appearing.

Helen, who was sat next to me, put down her PDA and asked, "Can I do anything to help?"

"Yes," I replied quietly. "Make sure nobody else finds out."

It didn't take long to find the interconnection but it looked like it hadn't been used for a while. I applied the latest security settings, which we had used for the fieldtrip and activated the link. It only took twenty-six minutes so I upgraded the other fifteen interlinks. Once I knew how to do one, the rest only took about ten minutes. Before disconnecting, I reviewed the link marked Marshallville and noticed that there was a steady stream of download traffic with almost no upload. I thought about looking what was being downloaded, but after a few moments thought, I decided that I'd been in enough trouble already this week.

I sent a message to Mr Hobson saying that full bandwidth could be restored early, if he didn't need it for anything else. The message back surprised me, "Why don't you inform years one and two yourself. I'm sure they will be pleased."

I hated being in the limelight. Till recently, I used to hide in my bedroom. Since joining the school, I've been made to play in front of huge audiences and chat with people I didn't know; so why was I so scared of making an announcement to seventeen other students?

Taking a deep breath, I stood up and said. "I've got some good news. Slightly ahead of schedule, your bandwidth is restored." I dramatically clicked on an icon and there was a loud applause. Mr Hobson had taken the flack for the bandwidth being taken, but let me have the glory of it being restored. What a nice man.

No sooner than I'd sat down, than I got a message from Stacy. "Your announcement was carried into this coach; nicely spoken."

Helen, who was looking over my shoulder, gave a small giggle as I tapped a response, "What do you mean?"

"Julia got Mr Hobson to relay your voice onto our coach. It came out of the speakers. Your popularity rating has just hit the roof."

Everyone was tired when we got to the school. I think sitting on the coach was more tiring than going on the rides. We all waited for the luggage to be unloaded and we each carried them to our rooms. Most of the clothes were dirty, so they were quickly pushed down the laundry chute. Our fieldtrip PDA's were all to be handed in after we'd eaten that evening. The rest of the day was for us to relax and have a nap if we wanted. I put on some music as we unloaded and I noticed that we had access to all stations, not just the French ones. I glanced at my PDA and that was again in English.

"Would you mind being Jayne till tomorrow?" pleaded Helen, as I started to look for a change of clothes. "I just don't want the holiday experience to end and you staying as Jayne will help."

I opened my mouth to protest that I'd been Jayne for weeks, but I saw the longing in Helen's eyes. How could I refuse her desire to be with Jayne for one last night? I sighed slightly as I nodded. What difference would one night make?

"First off," said Mr Hobson, before we had our meal, "I'd like to thank you all for a wonderful trip. You all behaved impeccably and played exceptionally well. This morning I had a note from the French President's office thanking us for our outstanding performance and hoped that it wouldn't be too long before we played in France again."

There was a ripple of chatter from the students, as they gossiped about such high praise. Mr Hobson let it ride, knowing how important such praise was.

"Secondly, you were so good that we will be including an extra holiday/concert. This will be something slightly different, but more on that when things are arranged. Lastly, there will be some alterations to the residential wing, which will result in minor disruption. Please follow the information that will be displayed and if somewhere is flagged as off-limits then please obey. The restrictions are there for your safety, not to annoy you. Work will start from tomorrow morning."

After the meal, we slowly went to the common room. None of us felt like doing much, but none of us wanted to be the first to admit that we were tired and just wanted to go to bed, so we just sat and chatted. As we talked, my thoughts turned to Sam's mini breakdown and wondered when Sam would tell the rest of us. Jessica didn't seem to want to let Sam out of her sight, so I'd had no chance to ask. It took Paula gently drifting off that got us all to go to bed.

Ah bed. There is nothing like your own bed, or in this case Helen's bed. As we got ready, I chose the sexiest nightie I had in the wardrobe. I wanted Helen to remember this night and hopefully it would last her many months, till I had to dress for a mix-up Monday.

I entered Helen's room without knocking, expecting her to be ready, like she normally was. This time she wasn't and was half naked.

"I'm sorry," I gulped, shutting the door.

"Jayne, you've seen me naked before," called Helen. "I was only topless. I'm dressed now, so come in."

"I'm so sorry," I said again. "I thought you would be ready." I then noticed she wasn't her chirpy self so asked, "Are you okay?

"My period just started," she said plainly.

"Oh," I responded, understanding what was physically happening to her body, but not emotionally. "You didn't seem so low last month."

"That's a bit cruel," she said with feeling.

"Sorry, I don't understand yet how it affects your emotions and feelings."

"I should be okay tomorrow," she said. "I'm also probably feeling a little down because you won't be here tomorrow."

"I'll still be here," I replied, trying not to sound hurt. "I just won't be wearing female clothes but I'll still be the same person underneath."

Helen went to sleep in my arms. I gently stroked her arm till she fell asleep. It wasn't the night I wanted her to remember. I just hoped she'd feel better in the morning.

* * *

"Good morning," I said as Helen's eyes opened.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Only half an hour," I replied. "I was enjoying watching you sleep."

"You're strange! Thank you for comforting me last night. I haven't been so badly affected by the start of my period for a long time."

"Will you be okay?"

"I'm well underway, so things should get easier."

"You weren't on your contraceptive before. Perhaps that has altered things."

"It might have," thought Helen out loud. "Later today, I'll check the information that Dr Sue gave me."

I nodded and Helen cuddled up to me. "Helen, if we don't get ready soon we might miss breakfast."

"I know," she sighed sadly. "You better go and get ready."

I didn't say anything, but slipped into my room. I removed the glued on breasts and showered. It felt strange, not having two lumps sticking out of my chest. As I walked to my wardrobe, I felt light, not having to compensate for the breast mass.

Since it was a Saturday, I put on a light pair of male trousers and a shirt. It took me a few minutes of fiddling to remember which side the buttons and holes were on. I looked in the mirror and saw that David was on the way back. I brushed my hair into something slightly more masculine. David was back. Well as back as I could make myself. I looked at my PDA and booked myself an appointment for later this morning with the hairdressers for a cut.

I knocked on the interconnecting door, not wanting to catch Helen undressed, though I don't know who was more embarrassed last night, her or me.

"Hi Ja-," started Helen. "Oh, hi David."

"You don't have to sound so enthusiastic," I complained at her obvious disappointment.

"I'm sorry," she said, trying to sound chirpier. "You have been so good about being Jayne, that in some way I was hoping you might stay as Jayne. However, I know you need to find out who you need to be and I will support you, whatever you choose."

"I've got an appointment at eleven to see the hairdresser."

"Oh. It isn't that bad, but I can see why you want to. Do you want me to go with you?"

"Thanks," I replied. "Was that from your talk with Andy?"

"A little," she acknowledged sheepishly. "He talked about your needs in a lot of detail. Stacy and Andy are a good team."

"That they are," I agreed. "I will miss them when the year ends."

We were the last into the common room, before breakfast. As we walked in there was a shocked silence. I suppose I'd spent too much time as Jayne that they'd forgotten about David. Heck, I'd been Jayne more at school than David. That was a ratio I wanted to change.

"David?" tentatively asked Emma, as if she was frightened of being wrong.

"Who else?" I queried.

"I thought you would have stayed as Jayne," said Lewis.

"David was Jayne for the trip to Paris, because of the way David was dressed when the trip was announced," said Sam, suddenly being the voice of reason. Sam then went and gave Helen and me a huge hug. "Are you okay, Helen?"

"I'm getting used to it," she answered, without saying how she really felt. "Let's get to breakfast before it gets cold. David and I have the fetching to do for three days."

During breakfast, Tracy told us, "There won't be an orchestra practice this weekend and you have all of today and some of tomorrow to yourselves."

"Some of tomorrow?" Helen asked.

"Wait and see," Tracy laughed. "It's a nice thing. Sam, the items you requested should be in your room after breakfast."

"Really?" Sam asked, sounding excited.

"Yes, it certainly took some arranging. Dan would like to see you after lunch, to make sure things are going okay. Jessica, you have one at the same time with me."

"Thank you," Sam said again. Jessica just nodded her head.

"I take it you won't be joining us for a swim?" Helen asked Sam and Jessica. Ever since Paula thought about swimming, it was something we'd all decided to do when we got home.

Home, yes I suppose the school was now home. I hadn't thought of it before, but till school finished, it was now home. I'd nowhere else to go. My parent's house was forever forbidden territory. I wonder if the others felt the same or if it was just me.

"Perhaps later," Sam replied.

"I hope you have fun," Helen replied, "and when you have sorted things out yourself, we will be there to support you. Just like you supported everyone else, including me this morning."

"Don't hold your breath," said Sam. "It might take a while for me to sort through this and I won't be telling you till Jessica is comfortable with the situation."

"If you ever want to chat, then I'm here," I offered Jessica, not having realised how badly Sam's revelation had affected her.

"Thanks, but at the moment things are okay," she replied. "I just don't understand and till I do, it will be difficult."

Swimming took a lot of courage from all the people involved, but it was probably the hardest for Lewis. Lewis was obviously not flat chested and wore a t-shirt over the compression vest. It was also obvious that Emma's breasts were all breast form. I wonder why they didn't start hormones or hormone suppressers earlier. I filed that thought for later.

I had to leave the swimming early as I had my hairdresser's appointment. As soon as I walked into the room, I was in trouble.

"Hi Jo," I greeted the young blond lady.

"Have you just been swimming and not washed your hair?" was the curt response.

"I thought I was just coming in for a cut."

"Put on this gown and sit in front of the wash basin. You won't do your hair any good with all that chlorine in it."

Helen, who'd come with me, sat in one of the salon chairs giggling at my predicament. Her laughter didn't last long, as another hairdresser instructed Helen to sit at the basin next to me. As we leaned back while our hairs were washed, we were lectured in the proper maintenance of our hair. I bet poor Helen wished she'd stayed in the pool with the others.

"So, what do you want to be done with your hair?" Jo asked, as she guided me to one of the chairs.

"The style looks a bit feminine and I was hoping you could do something with it. Perhaps a crew cut."

"It shouldn't be a problem to make your hair look more masculine. We don't need to take too much off, just cut it slightly differently so it lies in a different way."

"Why not just chop it off?" I suggested. Helen sniggered and I turned red when I realised what I'd said. I just ignored her and concentrated on Jo.

"Well, a crew cut wouldn't suit your face. Also, most students go for a style which can easily be changed. You can afford to let it grow a little without altering people's perception."

"I'm not sure."

"I tell you what. Why don't you let me style your hair and if you don't think it is masculine enough, then we'll cut more off and make it like when you first arrived."

"It's a deal."

Over the next thirty minutes my hair was cut, teased and styled. When I was eventually allowed to see myself, I had to agree that I didn't need my hair short to look masculine. Just as short hair can look feminine.

"Okay, you win," I admitted.

"I'm glad you like it. Now why don't you both run along and remember to wash your hair after swimming."

"You look more masculine than you did when you first got here," encouraged Helen, as she got out of her seat.

"I thought you would be upset," I said, as we went out of the salon.

"Why?"

"Because I look more masculine."

"No, I'm not upset. I was a bit upset this morning when David was back, but as the day has progressed I've found I haven't been."

"Oh?"

"I don't understand it myself. I think I'll have to think about it."

Helen touched my arm and I stopped. I looked across to ask why we were stopping but never got the chance. She leaned in and gave me a gentle peck on my lips. A slight smile came across her face and our lips were soon touching again for a longer, more sensuous kiss.

"Mmm," escaped Helen's lips, as she started to move off towards the year one common room.

"Mmm?" I queried as I rushed to catch up, a big grin on my face. As I caught up, I could see she had a dreamy look on her face, topping a happy smile.

"What have you two been up to?" asked Jill as we came into the room and was immediately elbowed by Anna.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You both have silly grins on your faces. Oh and that's a nice haircut."

"Do you like the hair?" I asked, trying to remove the smile from my face. "Do you think it works better?"

"It is definitely a boy's style," Jill acknowledged.

It was soon time for lunch and we made our way towards the dinning room. As we left the common room, Jessica and Sam came rushing down the stairs from their bedrooms. Sam looked very happy and I'm sure I saw Sam skip a few times.

I certainly had missed school meals. I suppose it isn't many people that would prefer school meals, but the meals here were fantastic. There was always such a choice and I always tried to go for something that I'd never eaten before. After suffering food neglect, I had years of catching up.

The next day, before the start of breakfast Mr Hobson rose and silenced everyone, "This evening we are all going to see a concert in London. You were scheduled to see this concert before the trip to France, but when the French trip was bought forward you get to go afterwards. There is a meal booked at The Royal Albert Hall at half-four with the concert starting at half-six. Since there are a lot of us, they need to know your main course choices. Before you finish breakfast, please fill in the details on your PDA's. You'll get to choose a starter and a dessert while there. Now this is a very special concert as the players aren't much older than you are. We'll be seeing the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra play at tonight's prom concert. How many of you have heard of them?"

Nobody raised their hand.

"They're an orchestra made up of players aged thirteen to twenty-six. Half are Jewish and half from Arab countries. Their aim is to show that Arabs and Jew's can mix and work together. It also affects the players, so when they go back to their country they can act as a beacon that music crosses all barriers. The players themselves take great risk in taking part in the orchestra and they are all issued Spanish diplomatic passports to aid them leaving their country. Next week they're going to play in Ramallah, which will certainly be historic. I hope that you don't go just to hear the music, but to support such a great aim."

This was one of the most passionate speeches that Mr Hobson had made. The way he spoke of the orchestra was something akin to the passion he put into the school. It was something he thought was very important and something he thought that could make a difference. I know he thought the school made a difference, not just to the students, but also to society as a whole.

"Why is he so passionate about this?" I asked Becky, today's duty psychiatrist for our year.

"I'm not sure. I know he has spoken with Daniel Barenboim a few times and is very supportive of his efforts. He even went to Edward Said's funeral when he died in 2003."

"I've heard of Daniel Barenboim, but who was Edward Said?"

"He was an American Palestinian who, with Daniel Barenboim, founded the orchestra. He was a Professor of English and Comparative Literature at Columbia University."

After lunch, we changed into smart clothes, ready for the concert. I was very excited about going to see this concert, as it was the first time that I'd ever been to see an orchestra play. Yes, this wasn't a fulltime orchestra, but they must be good to get a slot at The Proms.

"Calm down," soothed Helen as the coach set off towards London. "If you keep bouncing around like this, Rachel will give you a tranquilizer."

"You're kidding?" I asked, aghast at the thought.

"Of course I am," she giggled. "Look, it's just a bunch of teenagers and young people playing a few instruments. I bet they're no better than us. We played to the French president and I bet they don't have that tonight."

"Yeah, they just have diplomatic passports."

"And people who want to kill them for becoming friends with the enemy. When we get there, take a look at the concert guide; you'll see that they don't say who is playing the parts. That is for security reasons. I much prefer to have a low profile than be at risk."

I looked at her in disbelief. Sometimes Helen doesn't think.

"What?!" she asked when she saw my expression.

"Think what we'll be doing when we finish school," I prompted.

"Oh, I suppose," she said. "But we won't be in the public gaze."

"Yeah, no public outcry if you're caught."

"Oh, stop trying to dishearten me."

"Just being a realist."

"I know, but I feel like you, that it's something important that we can do. Not many have the skills you have."

"And your skills. We are and will always be a team. Did you come to any conclusions regarding your feelings for David over Jayne?"

"No, not yet. It's something that I'm still thinking about. I was ecstatic when you became Jayne. I loved you before, but that was something else, like everything was fitting into place. I expected that something would feel out of place when David returned, but I still feel the same."

"And you're trying to work out why?"

"Yes."

I left Helen to her thoughts. I had no idea what she was going through, as I didn't behave any different when I was dressed as Jayne. Our little chat had certainly calmed me down.

"I'm going to give out tickets now," said Mr Hobson from the front of the coach. "Please don't lose them as they are the only ones you'll get. After the concert we shall meet the coach where it drops us off. I'm telling you this now, as there won't be room in the hall. Please be on your best behaviour."

The coach pulled up outside a red round building, which I recognised as The Royal Albert Hall. On the opposite side of the busy road was a statue, the sunlight glinting off its gold paintwork.

"What's that?" I asked Becky, pointing at the statue.

"That's the Albert Memorial. Queen Victoria commissioned it when her husband died of typhoid; he was only forty-two. It had recently been refurbished so looks stunning."

"I take it that this is the same Prince Albert that The Royal Albert Hall was named after?"

"You've got it," smiled Becky. "Though it was almost ten years after his death that the hall opened."

"How do you know so much about it?" asked Helen.

"Because I've been coming to concerts here since I was little. One year I even managed to do the Last Night of the Proms."

I'd heard about how jubilant the last night was, but it wasn't something my parents were interested in, so never had seen it. Perhaps I'd get to see it on television this year. We'd been so busy on the run up to the trip that I'd forgotten the Proms were on. I wonder if they are broadcast on television. With the amount of BBC outside broadcast trucks parked outside, I presume this one will be. For this trip there were less people than when we went to Paris, just the forty-two students, Mr Hobson, the five psychiatrists and Mrs Russell.

"Can I help you?" asked the official stationed outside door eight.

"I have reservations for us all in the Elgar Room," explained Mr Hobson.

"Ah, are you Quentin Hobson?"

"Yes."

"Excellent, I believe there are forty-nine of you."

"That's correct."

"Excellent. If you go up these stairs as far as they go, you should be on the circle level. Turn right and you will see the door a little way down on your right."

The restaurant was exactly where the doorman had described. As we went in, a small smile came over my face. If I'd been taken to a restaurant of this quality a few weeks ago, I would have been out of my depth. Now, it wasn't an issue, though it was the first time I'd eaten while a harpist played gently in the background.

The tables were set out for four people. Helen and I sat with Jill and Anna, rather like we shared the same hotel room in Paris. I looked at the menu and almost choked. This wasn't going to be a cheap meal.

Mr Hobson, who was making sure we were all okay asked, "David, are you okay?"

"The prices on this menu are huge. How can the school afford to eat here?"

"Let's just say that because of two people being very alert, the school was given a reward. That reward more than covers the cost of this treat. So if you want to order the Swordfish for starters, then do so."

"How did you know?"

"Because you hadn't had it yet. You seem to want to try things at least once."

I settled down to re-examining the menu. Mmm, Smoked Swordfish for starters. I'd already ordered the duck for the main course. As I waited for the waitress, I glanced down at the desserts. Oh now, this was going to be a difficult choice.

"Hi ladies, what can I get you to drink and starters?"

I opened my mouth to say something and I got simultaneously kicked in my leg three times. When the waitress had disappeared with our orders for drinks and starters, I gave a glare at my three ex-friends.

"Why did you all have to kick me?"

"We all did?" asked Helen. The other two just nodded. "I'm sorry; I thought it would only be me. It would have embarrassed that poor waitress if you'd said something. Does it really matter?"

"Yes," I complained. "It does to me. I've just spent weeks as Jayne and even after yesterdays haircut, I still get thought of as a girl."

"I think you look like a boy," offered Jill.

"Me too," added Anna.

"I recon it was because you were with three girls," said Helen. "A thirteen year old boy wouldn't normally do that."

"Are you saying I should have sat with Lewis and Brian?"

"It might have helped people's perception, but wouldn't you have missed me?" asked Helen, fluttering her eyelashes.

"You don't have to do that to get me to change my mind," I laughed. "Okay, during the meal I'll just take it as it comes. Next time I go to a concert like this, I'm wearing a suit. I didn't think a thirteen year old would look good in a suit and nobody from anything lower than year four is."

"A suit would have made you look like you were ten."

"I know, that's what I was saying. Perhaps Brenda has some makeup tips on making a boy look older."

"You never know, but I think a boy wearing makeup might stand out."

All the tables were quiet and subdued. Only our obvious youth made us stand out to other patrons who had also made reservations. It looked like a few seemed surprised by us being allowed in, but after seeing our manners, didn't say anything else.

"What are you going to have for dessert?" asked Helen as our main course plates were taken away.

"I'm toying between the Apple and Vanilla Mousse, and the Chocolate Pudding with Grand Marnier Mascarpone," I replied.

"I'm quite full, so I'm thinking about the mousse," said Jill.

"I'm going to have the Coconut Crá¨me Caramel," said Anna.

"I thought about that, but thought it might be a bit sweet," frowned Helen, going back to ponder the menu. "Dessert is certainly the hardest to choose."

With the meal over we silently left the restaurant and into the now busy corridor beyond. I followed the others back downstairs, and quickly disappeared into the toilets as I was passing. I had my ticket so I knew where to go.

As I walked into the toilet I got some strange looks and one man mumbled about the wrong room. I just went up to the urinal and got on with business. As I was washing my hands, Brian and Lewis came in. Lewis rushed into one of the cubicles, having left things a bit late. It wasn't till I was leaving that I realised that people thought I was in the wrong toilet, I quickly left before somebody got more outspoken.

"Helen," I said, plonking myself down in the seat next to hers. "Why does everyone assume that I'm a girl?"

"What happened?" asked Helen.

"I went to the toilet and some people assumed I was a girl. I think they understood I wasn't when I stood to go, but it was very scary when I worked out what had happened. Lewis didn't get any bother."

"I bet it was scary," she said, giving me a hug. "Going to the toilet before the concert starts sounds a good idea though. I'll be back in a few."

"Probably a bit longer than that," I replied. "The queue for the ladies was out into the corridor."

While I waited, I flicked through the concert guide to read up on what was being played and more about the orchestra. I smiled to myself when I noticed that the first piece was Mozart's Sinfonia Concertante. This was the same piece that we'd played in France. It will be interesting to hear it being played by somebody else. After the interval they were playing Mahler's first symphony.

It was a good job there was plenty of time, as it was fifteen minutes before a harassed Helen slipped into her seat. She had taken the time to brush out her hair and make herself look presentable again.

"You look nice," I told her.

"Thanks. I thought I'd never get there in time," said Helen leaning close to me, so we could chat without others hearing. "Perhaps Lewis has a good idea."

"Did you notice that it wasn't Stacy that came, but Marcus? I've never seen so many male year five pupils."

"That's not fair," moaned Helen, over the announcement that no flash photography was allowed and all mobiles should be turned off.

"I don't think you'd manage that. Heck, even I nearly got into trouble."

However, the seed was planted in Helen's mind, which would keep us both busy over the coming weeks; all because of a queue in a concert. The concert itself was outstanding and the crowd showed its appreciation at the end. The encore of Nimrod from Elgar's Enigma variations didn't calm the crowd. After a short speech of the courage of every player in the orchestra a second, longer encore was played, the Prelude and Liebestod to Wagner's opera Tristan und Isolde.

As we made our way out of the hall, I saw Marcus disappear away from everyone else. Wondering what was happening, I said to Helen that I'd see her in a few minutes. Without waiting for a response, I went after Marcus.

I caught up with him near the entrance to backstage. He noticed me approach and beckoned me to quietly approach. In the background, we saw Mr Hobson chatting with someone. After a little time, he produced some papers, which he gave to Mr Hobson. Marcus gave me a prod and we quickly disappeared towards the coach.

"It was very brave playing the Wagner," Marcus said, deliberately not discussing what we'd just witnessed.

"Oh?"

"Wagner was anti-Semitic and he is banned from being played in Israel. Zubin Mehta tried to play Wagner in Israel during a 1981 concert and had the concert interrupted. Daniel Barenboim didn't think any piece should be prescribed, and played it with a German orchestra. This lead to what he'd done being referred to as 'Cultural Rape'. So to repeat it now, in a concert which is very similar to one that will be played in Ramallah, is very brave."

"Sorry, but we both had to go to the toilet," lied Marcus to Mrs Russell, as we both boarded the coach.

"Yes, Helen and Andy said that you'd been delayed. Mr Hobson is making his own way back to the school, so we'll be departing without him."

As soon as we were seated, the coach set off. Helen gave me an enquiring look and I knew that when we were in the privacy of our bedrooms, I'd have to tell her what happened.