I rest my head back on my pillow. We don’t go anywhere as a family any more. Every time I ask it’s, ‘We haven’t got the time . . . Mum is working . . . Dad is working . . . we’re both working . . . we haven’t got the money.’ I think the last time we went anywhere was when we went to see Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 for my tenth birthday and that was only because Grandma paid. I didn’t notice how little Mum and Dad were around when she was alive, but now it’s like there’s a gaping hole every evening and every weekend and the only person trying to fill it is Granddad, which might be okay if he didn’t want to fill it with chess.

I roll over and close my eyes . . .

Our Square Is a Battlefield

The sun has gone down and the fighting is over. Me and Jake are in our tree, drinking Coke and surrounded by smoke from the fires around us.

‘That was close,’ he says. ‘I thought we’d had it.’

‘Me too,’ I say. ‘Lucky you brought the Howitzer.’

Jake laughs and opens a tube of Pringles. We lean back against the trunk, Jake stuffs four Pringles in his mouth and tells me he thinks his family are getting a new car, a brand new white Lamborghini. It’s only got two seats so we won’t be able to go in it together, but if I’m lucky his dad might let me sit in it on the drive.

I straighten up and look around the square. Everything is quiet and still. All the windows are black and all the fires have gone out. But in the distance I can hear the sound of guns, and the ground is rumbling under my feet.

‘Something has happened, Jake,’ I say. ‘Something has changed.’ I stand up and look around the square.

‘What is it?’ asks Jake.

‘Shush.’ I listen again. More shouting, more people, more footsteps, like a commander and their army marching towards us.

‘Come on,’ says Jake. ‘If we’re quick we can escape in my dad’s Lamborghini.’

We pick up our bags and scramble down the tree.

‘Hurry,’ shouts Jake.

‘I’m co—’

A light flashes on above us, like a huge spotlight shining from a helicopter.

I stop still. Jake does the same. The shouting gets closer, so close it’s like the commander is shouting in my ear. I turn towards the square entrance. An army is marching down the road towards me. I try to run, but my feet are stuck fast. The ground starts to shake and the grass roots pull apart. Underneath is black. Underneath is white. Huge square concrete slabs are pushing through the earth.

‘Felix!’ Jake shouts above the roar. ‘What’s happening?’

‘I . . . I . . . I don’t know!’

‘You load the cannons,’ yells Jake. ‘And I’ll get the guns.’