The TV weatherman is pointing at a map. Tomorrow it’s going to be raining in Hamburg, sunny in Frankfurt and Stuttgart, and raining in Dresden and Berlin.

I’m stuck with Granddad again. I thought this was only going to be temporary while Mum took extra shifts, but she seems to be working them every night. Dad is always working, but I’m used to that.

Granddad sighs like the rain is falling on him in his chair. I don’t know why he watches the weather for any country. Since Grandma died, he hardly ever goes out in England, let alone Germany.

I open my books. The trouble with not doing my homework yesterday evening is that the same question is staring at me now:

Imagine you are a suffragette. Write an account of what it would be like if people did not have the right to vote. What would it feel like not to be heard or have a voice? What actions would you take so that people took notice of your opinion?

Underneath there’s a drawing of a woman running in front of a horse, and another chained to the railings outside the Houses of Parliament, and another in a prison cell. I look around the room. It’s as dark as a prison in here and I’m so hungry my stomach is rumbling, but Granddad hasn’t heard because he’s busy ripping up envelopes and bills into tiny pieces. He does it to everything that comes through the letter box. Dad told me Granddad has always done it, because he is scared people will find out his bank balance or how much his gas bill is, or they might use his identity like people do on the internet, but why would anyone want to steal the identity of someone who is seventy-two years old?

I sneak a look through the gap in the curtains. The sun is shining on the grass, between the branches of my tree, on the roof of my house. I wish I was out there, but Granddad will go mad if I just get up and disappear. I could pretend I need the toilet. A pee wouldn’t give me long enough; it’d have to be a number two. That would give me ten minutes. I could push it to fifteen if I pretend I’ve got constipation like Aunt Sophie. I could run across the grass, take cover behind the tree, then bolt as fast as I can for my house. I’m so hungry that I’d grab anything from the cupboards – crisps, chocolate, yoghurt, Ryvita even – anything but tinned sausages. I’d stash it all in my bag then grab Mum’s iPad and run back before Granddad had a chance to notice I’d gone. I’d put the iPad between the covers of my book and pretend I was reading when I’d actually be watching police car chases on YouTube.