‘No! I don’t think they’ll work. Not against this army!’ I point ahead as the army marches on – a row of eight black pawns with two rooks, two knights and two bishops behind them. In the middle, riding on horseback, are a queen and a king.

‘Run, Jake,’ I shout. ‘Run!’

Me and Jake pick up our rifles and run into the dark.

Weakness

‘So how come you’re in here again, Felix?’

I stare at the wall.

‘Well, you must have done something?’

‘Mr Groves said I hadn’t done any of the science work.’

Mrs Ewens leans forward.

‘And is Mr Groves wrong?’

‘No, but he is an idiot.’

‘James, did anyone ask for your opinion?’

‘No, but you got it anyway.’ James King rocks back on his chair.

‘I think maybe you should move,’ says Mrs Ewens. ‘Over here.’ She stands up and walks over to the corner of the room near the door. James King gets up. His bag bumps my shoulder accidentally as he passes me. ‘Sorry ’bout that,’ he smirks.

I stare at the wall. I’ve been trying to do better in class, but improving my marks and playing chess at the same time is making me tired, especially when I’m having weird dreams about chess like I did last night. I hardly did any work in science and I was even worse when I was in the reading group with Mrs Hudson. Michael was reading and she got annoyed with me when I lost the place on the page. I told her about my dream, but she thought I was trying to get out of reading. I wasn’t. I just wanted to get the dream out of my head. It feels like I’ve been studying chess non-stop for three days, but me and Granddad still haven’t played a game. He just gets me to repeat chess information over and over again while he sits in a chair tearing letters and bills into tiny pieces. I love my granddad, but the more time I spend with him the weirder he seems to get – not answering the phone, only watching German TV, even ripping up the wrappers from Samson’s cat food.

‘So,’ says Mrs Ewens, as she sits beside me. ‘Tell me what’s going on?’

‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘I don’t mean to get into trouble. I just do.’

‘I know,’ she says, leaning closer. ‘I know you’re not a real troublemaker, but you have to keep trying – you can’t keep disrupting lessons by talking about cannons and Lamborghinis.’

I smile.

‘Yes,’ Mrs Ewens says, smiling back. ‘We teachers do talk to each other, you know . . . So, is there anything you want to tell me?’

‘Not really.’

‘Would you like me to chat to your mum and dad?’