Kids – especially the little green polo shirts from St Gilda’s elementary school – streamed between parked cars. It was all fancy metal, German or Japanese. A few mothers in SUVs, but mostly chauffeurs, who broke the monotony of their jobs by arriving early and leaning on their dark saloons, gossiping as they ignored No Smoking signs.

Julius hurried behind a line of giant palms at the back of the lot. His eye caught Simeon, one of the half-dozen driver/bodyguards employed by his mother. Luckily, Simeon faced away, one hand in his jacket, chatting to an older driver in a garishly brocaded shirt.

He had to slow down on a stepped path, dodging green-shirted terrors running the other way. The elementary school was inside St Gilda’s original, 1930s schoolhouse. Outside, kids swung and clambered through a play area dominated by two wooden turrets, with a queue for the zip line spanning between them.

‘Gabriel,’ Julius gasped, relieved to catch his ten-year-old brother before he got to the waiting Mercedes.

Gabe – as he preferred to be called – was still young enough to spend lunch hour tearing around, and had scuffed shoes and dirty knees to prove it.

‘Why are you up here?’ Gabe asked suspiciously as he backed away from a group of classmates.

Gabe was infuriatingly cool. While Julius loomed over his peers and felt crippled every time a word came out of his mouth, Gabe was a smooth-talker who had half the girls in his year crushing on him. He was the star striker for St Gilda’s U11 soccer team, and a cheeky smile or flick of an eyebrow got Gabe out of troubles that would have had Julius grounded for life.

‘Need a favour,’ Julius said, catching his breath and wary of his old third-form teacher standing in the elementary school’s doorway. She was a sweetheart, but he’d never get rid of her if she came to reminisce.

‘What’s in this for baby brother?’ Gabe asked, rubbing his palms.

Julius tutted. ‘Tell Simeon that I’m working on an after-school project. And that he doesn’t need to come back and pick me up later, because I’ve arranged a ride with a friend.’

Gabe looked incredulous. ‘You don’t have any friends.’

The jab was close enough to the truth to hurt.

‘I’m in a rush,’ Julius said irritably. ‘Can you please not be an obstacle for once?’

‘Simeon will interrogate me,’ Gabe snapped back. ‘He’s more scared of Mum than we are.’

‘Be vague,’ Julius explained. ‘If I say drama club, or detention, Simeon might try and find me to check before he takes you home. But he can’t search every building on campus if he doesn’t know where I am.’

‘What if he calls you?’ Gabe asked.

‘I forgot to turn my phone back on after class …’

‘Ten thousand naira,’ Gabe suggested.