He rolled over, balling himself in the covers as tightly as possible. He didn't want to get up. Maybe he could stay home tonight.

'Sweetheart?'

Annnnd that meant he couldn't hide any more. The hand shook his shoulder gently. He burrowed in deeper.

'What's the matter?'

He sighed and poked his head out. A hand run through his hair, and it was all he could do not to lean into it like one of the farm cats did when he petted them. He steeled himself.

'Don't feel well.'

The hand went from his hair to his forehead and stayed there for a moment. He kept his eyes closed and tried hard not to peek up at the face.

'You don't feel hot or anything.'

The hand left his head and returned to his shoulder.

'John?'

He burrowed back under the covers and prayed that his mother would buy it. He did actually drop back off to sleep.

'Scott?' Her eldest looked up from the table where he was finishing off his homework.

'Yes, Mom?'

'Is everything alright at school?'

'Sure, Mom. School's great!'

'I'm glad to hear it. And what about John?'

Lucy watched as her eldest son's face clouded over for a moment before he squared his shoulders.

'John's fine, Mom. I always look after him.'

She sighed. It wasn't the answer she wanted, but it was very much the answer she expected. The question was, what should she do now? Ideally, Lucy shouldn't encourage John to either lie or to skip school, but the bullying that seemed to have plagued his entire school career seemed to have followed him to this new school.

Maybe John just needed a break for a couple of days. She needed to talk to Jeff about this, but he was out of contact until this evening, and it was up to her to make the decision.

'I know you do, Scott, and your Dad and I really appreciate that. But I think, just for today, I'm going to let John have a day off. He needs the time to adjust, I think, to the new school.'

Scott nodded. It sounded like a good idea.

'Do you want to stay home too?'

'No, thanks, Mom. I got sport this afternoon.'

'Ok then.'

Lucy returned upstairs and stood in the doorway, watching the bundle of bedclothes rise and fall with her son's breathing. Yes, he obviously needed a day out, but she would talk to him about telling her the truth if he felt like school was overwhelming him again.

(And if Scott came home with a black eye and bruised knuckles that afternoon, just this once nothing was said.)