Mum looks at her watch. ‘I don’t know. It’s gone seven. The doctors said he needs to rest and you know how your granddad hates talking on the phone.’

‘But he needs to know,’ I say. ‘It might make him feel better.’

Mum and Dad exchange looks, like, What do you think?

‘Okay,’ says Dad. ‘I took him Mum’s old mobile but you know what he’s like with phones. He may not answer.’

‘He’ll want to talk to me.’ I smile. ‘He followed me all the way to Cheltenham!’

Dad punches the number in, then hands me the phone.

I push back my chair and walk into the hallway.

‘Don’t tire him out,’ calls Mum.

I put the phone to my ear and listen to the dialling tone. The phone clicks then I hear a rustling sound.

‘Hi, Granddad,’ I say excitedly. ‘It’s me, Felix!’

The rustling sound starts again, stops, then I hear the rush of wind, like someone breathing.

‘Granddad?’ I walk into the sitting room. ‘It’s me, Felix!’

‘Oh, Felix. I am sorry.’ Granddad’s voice sounds weak and far away. ‘I dropped the phone.’

‘It’s okay, Granddad,’ I say. ‘I just called to tell you that I’m going to play in the National Chess Finals, in Birmingham.’

‘Birmingham,’ says Granddad. ‘I am thinking this is wonderful.’

‘I know, Granddad. It is. I need to practise. Dad said you might be coming out on Wednesday. I could come over after school—’

‘Felix!’ Mum shouts. ‘What did I tell you?’

‘It’s okay, Granddad, it’s just Mum.’ I walk over to the window. ‘She says you won’t feel like playing, but I know you will.’

‘Well, I am feeling a little tired,’ says Granddad. ‘And . . .’

‘And what, Granddad?’

‘Well, you know I don’t trust the phone.’

‘It’s okay, Granddad,’ I say. ‘It’s only me here . . . well, and Mum and Dad. But we could always talk in code.’

I wait for an answer, but all I hear is Granddad breathing again.

‘Granddad? Are you there?’

I look at the screen. The green icon is still lit. I listen again. Silence.

‘Granddad,’ I say, beginning to panic. ‘Are you there? Granddad?’

‘Yes,’ says Granddad. ‘I am thinking.’

Phew, he’s thinking.

‘I am thinking . . . I am thinking . . .’

‘Yes, Granddad?’

The Dutch Attack?

The French Defence?

The—

‘Con-fi-dence,’ says Granddad so slowly it’s like it’s three words.

‘What’s that, Granddad?’

‘Con-fi-dence is all you need. Above everything I taught you, con-fi-dence is the most important thing. Everything will take . . .’ He starts to cough and I hear a nurse ask if he wants a glass of water.

The phone goes quiet.

‘Granddad,’ I say. ‘Are you okay?’

I hear people talking in the distance, then the shallow breathing again.

‘Felix, are you still there?’

‘Yes, Granddad.’ I sigh with relief.

‘I need to go now. But everything will be fine.’