‘We’ve got to find our tables.’ Rebecca points at the tables with numbers written on the corners. ‘I am table six,’ she says. ‘And you’re table twenty . . .’

I look around the room and try to see my table, but I’m panicking too much to count them.

‘Felix.’ Rebecca puts her hand on my arm like she’s trying to make me relax. ‘It’s down there. Right at the other end.’

‘Thanks.’ I take a breath.

‘Felix, it’s okay. Don’t worry. It’s not all down to you; we’re a team, right?’

‘Right.’ I smile weakly, then weave my way between the rows of tables, checking the numbers like I’m at the cinema searching for my seat.

I stop when I reach table twenty. My opponent is already seated. I keep my head down, trying not to make eye contact with him until we shake hands. I glance around the hall. Everyone else has reached their tables and are sitting ready to play. Everyone except Rich, who’s grinning across the room, in my direction.

I look behind me, wondering if he’s seen a friend, or his mum and dad up in the gallery. But all there is behind me is a massive white wall.

What is he grinning at?

I think of smoothing my face for zits or checking my flies.

Someone clears his throat, then holds out his hand. I reach out and take it, and look my opponent in the eye. Wait. I’ve seen him before. He’s the boy I saw Rich talking to in the reception area. He holds onto my hand for too long. I try to pull it away. He lets go and his face cracks into a grin. He glances across the hall. I see Rich grinning back.

‘So,’ says my opponent. ‘What are you going to play, the Sicilian Defence?’ He laughs.

My heart jumps like a rabbit. Rich has told him the moves I use. It’s a setup. They’ve fixed it. My head begins to throb. I don’t know what to do. I want to get out of here, but I’m trapped, like I’m stuck in a cave in Tomb Raider with the walls closing in.

I stare across at Rich.

I thought we were here to win. I thought we were on the same team!

Tick, Tick, Tick

My opponent picks up a white pawn, then a black, and puts them behind his back.

This isn’t right. This isn’t right.

I look up at the viewing areas, see loads of parents, but not mine, just my granddad staring at me with Jake beside him eating a packet of crisps.

Rich has told him my moves. Help me! I try to transmit this thought across the hall. But Granddad stares ahead and Jake keeps munching.