‘It’s…very nice,’ Angie said politely, then she grinned, then burst out laughing. ‘Seymour, who gave it to you, the Gospel Hall Benevolent Fund? It’s exactly like something those nerdy kids at school would have, you know those kids—every school has them, always sucking up to teachers and putting the date on their work without being told and they never let you have a loan of their coloured pencils.’

‘And they’re picked to ring the bell and take messages round the classrooms,’ Seymour said.

‘Their socks always stay up. I reckon they use glue.’

‘And they never let you cheat off their work in tests.’

‘In fact they always sit with their elbows over their work even if you weren’t planning to cheat!’ Angie finished.

Seymour put the pencil case away, not minding about it so much any more, because it had become funny in some special way and he felt cheered. ‘I always do get given stuff like this,’ he said ruefully. ‘At Christmas it was socks and a new dressing-gown. A Victoria Road Gospel Hall Benevolent Fund sort of dressing-gown.’

‘You should have told me it was your birthday on the weekend. I’d have bought you something really terrific, certainly not socks or pencil cases. A skull bed lamp, maybe…Or a dragon kite, or a trip up in a hot-air balloon. I feel rotten not knowing it was your birthday. I must have something I can give you, let’s think…’

‘It doesn’t matter, Angie. You don’t have to.’

‘Yes, I do. It’s low-down and mean to miss out on a friend’s birthday. I know…it’s not much, and it’s fallen down behind the bedside table so it might be a bit squashed, but…I knew it was here somewhere! Happy birthday, Seymour.’

It was a small picture in a cardboard frame with splodges of Blu-Tak on the edges. Seymour held it in his hands and looked at it. It was three-dimensional, made of layers of clear liquid-filled plastic in which glittering specks floated. Behind the specks was a little white horse with outspread wings, poised above a silvered, turreted landscape pin-pricked with stars. The effect was mysterious and beautiful, like a landscape on a different planet. When he moved the card gently, the little horse seemed to raise its wings and fly, and all the time, miniscule silver rain fell around it.

‘Hey, thanks, Angie!’ he said. ‘It’s fantastic! I’ve never seen anything like this before. Except…’

‘Except what?’

‘It’s a bit like that tattoo you’ve got on your shoulder.’