Timothy Winters can't sleep. He has bad dreams. Why? Today is his First Day at Big School. He's dreading it. He sits on his balcony in Trellic Towers and gazes on the glow-worm lights of the Westway.
He's heard stories about Big School. Will he fit? Is he tough enough? He doesn't look it. He's small and shy and satirical and lives in libraries and plays chess and wears glasses and has hair like Nigel Molesworth. Do you get your head flushed down the toilet for this sort of thing? Will there be thugs waiting by the bike sheds? In the dark? In the park? Will his childhood end here?
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