We took Apple’s computer from him. The third teacher this term wrote to me saying how badly behaved he is. We had told him that any more bad behaviour would result in the loss of his computer. I had to take Peachy to tennis. When I came back it looked as though a bugler had been in our room. He had destroyed my hairdryer, Beloved’s electric alarm clock/radio, he had ripped the bag containing my Christmas presents, a bowl of stones had been chucked about, a blanket thrown off its box, with toothpaste he’d written ‘#### u’ in capital letters and sprayed Beloved’s shaving gel around the basin. Chaos. He told me he was off to Ma’s room to have a look, and he left the door to Beloved’s office wide open. We hurried to each room with thumping hearts. No damage. We saw him in the corridor on our return. ‘No more violence,’ I told him. He’d had a wresting match with Beloved for my computer. Apple had hit him, punched my computer, it had fallen to the floor. Beloved saved it. Beloved has gone off to a party. Apple has calmed down, resigned.