‘Yes,’ says Mr Andrews. ‘You really are . . . Now come on, why don’t you take a leaf out of Felix’s book and get some new-found concentration to apply to your maths . . . ? Oh, and I think it’s brilliant by the way.’

‘But you said it was the Milky Way,’ Jake says, confused.

‘I meant Felix,’ he says, turning to me. ‘I’ll be supporting you in the finals.’

‘Thanks, sir.’ My heart swells in my chest. I’m used to teachers telling me off, not telling me how well I’ve done.

‘Thanks, sir!’ Jake says in a high-pitched voice as Mr Andrews moves away.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘You’re turning into Rebecca. But I guess that’s okay. If it’s just a bit.’

I look down at my work. I’ve been so worried about Granddad that I thought it would get worse, but in geography I put my hand up and answered a question about rock erosion and deposition. Then when I went to read with Mrs Hudson she had to stop me to let Michael read, because I had read two pages already and was going to read another. If Granddad made some tweaks so that chess helped my schoolwork, they seem to be working, even from his hospital bed. I wish he was home so I could go and see him straight after school. But I can’t expect him to play chess as soon as he comes out. I could practise more with Rebecca or play online. I have to come up with a plan. But chess is the last thing I should be thinking about because the most important thing is that Granddad gets well.

*

‘We need a plan,’ says Jake as we walk down the corridor towards chess club.

‘A plan?’

‘Yes, now your granddad isn’t around, we need another plan. But don’t worry, I’ll come up with something – after all, I am your coach.’

I laugh.

‘It’s true,’ he chuckles. ‘You’d be lost without me. You’d be like a boxer without his trainer, or a football team without its manager, like Pep Gwady . . . Gwady . . . what’s his name?’

‘Guardiola.’

‘That’s it, Felix.’ Jake pats me on the back as we walk into the library.

Rich and Chris are already playing a game. Rebecca waves at us from a table in the corner. Chris nods, but Rich pretends he doesn’t see us as we walk past them.

‘Didn’t think you were coming,’ whispers Rebecca.

I sit down next to her and sigh.

‘What’s wrong,’ she asks.

‘He’s panicking,’ says Jake. ‘His granddad is too ill to play and he feels bad that he doesn’t feel really bad and he feels even worse because all he’s worried about is chess.’

‘How do you know all that?’

‘It’s obvious,’ says Jake. ‘He’s been walking round like he’s lost a dog.’

I stare at the chessboard.