Granddad laughs. ‘I promise that you will be fine, but it is only natural you are nervous. I was before my first championship.’

‘When was that, Granddad?’

‘Oh, a long time ago. We don’t need to talk about that now.’

‘But I’d like to, Granddad,’ I say. ‘Why don’t you tell me anything about you growing up? Dad says you never tell him much either.’

‘Mmm . . . That is because it is not important . . . But maybe in this instance it is. Come on, let’s go and sit on the sofa, where we are more comfortable.’

Granddad pushes his chair back and stands up.

‘Oh!’ He puts his hands on the dining table.

‘What’s wrong, Granddad?’ I ask.

‘Nothing,’ he says. ‘I am just a little giddy.’

I walk around to his side.

‘Do you need your insulin?’

‘No.’ Granddad shakes his head. ‘I checked my sugar levels before tea. I am thinking maybe I just got up too quickly. I am fine now.’

He says he’s fine, but his face is as white as the moon. I’ve never seen him look like this. I stand by his side as he walks to the sofa.

‘There,’ he sighs as he sits down. ‘Hey, don’t look so worried.’

‘But I am, Granddad,’ I say. ‘Should I call Mum?’

‘No. No,’ he says. ‘I am fine.’

I sit beside Granddad. He takes a deep breath, then lets out a massive burp.

‘There,’ he smiles. ‘I thought it was just indigestion.’

I laugh nervously.

Granddad taps my hand.

‘I am okay,’ he says. ‘Now, let’s stop you worrying about tomorrow. What was I going to do? Ah yes. I will tell you about my first championship. I was in Leipzig in the evening, on my own. The roads were wet with rain and the street lights were shining bright yellow. And I was nervous. Very nervous, just like you are this evening.’ He puts his hands on mine to stop me picking my nails. ‘My opponent was much older than me, and bigger too. When he shook my hand, he squeezed so hard my knuckles cracked. And he stared at me like a boxer in the ring. But that was the last I saw of him. That was the last time I looked him in the eye. After that he was just a wall, a faceless machine. That was when I remembered my father’s words: to play chess, not my opponent. He said that I had to block them out – pretend they are a brick wall, or a faceless computer, like the Mechanical Turk.’

‘The Mechanical Turk?’

‘Yes. It was the first chess-playing computer. A box with arms that moved chess pieces. A robot.’

‘Like Iron Man?’

‘I do not know Iron Man – does he play chess?’

‘No, he just flies all over the place blowing up buildings and cars.’