‘Granddad!’ I whisper. ‘I never wanted to do this. I thought you’d never do it. All I wanted to do was get out of playing boring chess!’

Granddad smiles down at me. ‘You think I did not know?’

‘What? You knew!’

Granddad holds out his hand like I’m a toddler. ‘Come on,’ he says, grinning.

He knew all along and this is getting more embarrassing by the second.

There’s nothing for it.

I hold onto my nose and jump.

The Army in the Box

The pink shower curtain sticks to my body as the water pours down. I’m at Granddad’s trying to wash the smell of the swimming pool away, and the panic of what just happened. Granddad didn’t say much in the car, just played music and whistled, but I was too drained of energy to talk anyway. I think Granddad thought I was upset because for the first time ever he stopped at McDonald’s and let me get a McFlurry.

I turn the taps off and pick up a pink towel. Even in the bathroom, bits of Grandma are everywhere – pink flannel, pink soap, pink shower cap hanging on the back of the door. If she was here now she’d be telling Granddad off for teasing me and hugging me and telling me to take no notice. But I have to take notice. Mine and Jake’s plan was pretty rubbish if my granddad knew about it all along.

I pull on my shorts and T-shirt and walk out onto the landing. I hear the rumble of the TV coming up the stairs as I hang my towel over the banister to dry. It’s Friday evening. All my school friends will be on their Xboxes or watching DVDs or going to football or rugby matches or the cinema, and now I’ve got to stay here and play chess all weekend. But a deal is a deal and Mum and Dad were right, even though I hate swimming, it was good to spend time with Granddad. Especially as he seemed to be enjoying himself.

*

There’s a wooden box on the dining table when I get downstairs. It’s shiny and dark brown, with gold lines around the edges and gold hinges and latches.

Granddad sits down and smiles like he’s got the thing he most wanted for Christmas.

‘I have not seen this for a long time,’ he says. ‘Your grandma always told me to play, but I have not since . . .’ His smile suddenly disappears.

‘Since when, Granddad?’ I ask.

He flips up the latches and looks at me.

‘Since a long time.’

I think of asking why, but from the sad look in his eyes, I don’t think I should.

He opens the box and turns it towards me. Inside are brown and white chess pieces, lying on their backs, surrounded by green velvet.