I glance at Rebecca. She lifts up her hand and brings it down like she’s ringing a bell in a hotel.

Just bash it! she mouths, then smiles. I try to smile back but my jaw is clenched tight like I’m on the way to the dentist chair.

‘Come on,’ says Rich. ‘We won’t get the games in if you keep hanging around.’

I take a deep breath and pull out a chair.

‘At last,’ mutters Rich.

‘Do not lose your temper.’

I know, Granddad. I won’t. I won’t.

A hand comes across the chessboard.

‘Respect your opponent. Look him in the eye, but this is the only time.’

I reach out and shake Tom’s hand and look him in the eye. He nods and wishes me a good game.

‘Respect your opponent, but he is just that. Your opponent is not your friend.’

I nod but don’t say anything.

Tom picks up pawns, one white and one black, then puts them behind his back. I nod at his left hand. He shows me the white pawn in his palm. I’m white. I start.

I stare at the clock.

I stare at the board.

I stare at the clock.

I stare at the board.

I see a hand lift in the air. I see a hand pick up a pawn. I see the pawn move two squares forward. Pawn to e4. The hand lifts away and comes back by my side. The hand is mine.

I breathe. I’ve made my first move. I sit back. Out of the corner of my eye I see a hand waving up and down. I glance up and see Rebecca mouthing, HIT THE BUTTON! HIT THE BUTTON!

‘Oh.’ I jump up and hit the button so hard it jabs into my palm like Lego. Rebecca puts her hand over her mouth to stop herself laughing. I want to laugh too, but I can’t break my concentration. I look back at the board and wait for my opponent to make his first move.

He moves bread to e5. He hits the clock.

I stare at the board.

Make my move . . . Gherkin to f3 . . . Bash the clock.

My opponent moves his gherkin to c6.

I move knife to b5 . . . Bash the clock.

My opponent’s move – he hits the clock. My move – I bash the clock.

Opponent’s move.

My move.

His bread takes my bread on d4 and my pickle takes his bread.

Bash the clock.

His bread to g3.

My bread to c4.

Brown sauce to . . . bash.

Red sauce . . . bash.

Fork . . . bash.

Knife . . . bash.

The clock ticking.

My chess pieces moving.

My head clear.

My hands a blur.

Honey to g6 . . . bash.

Knife to d6.

Mustard to . . .

Bash.

Bash.

Bash.

‘Check.’ My voice.

My voice?

Fork to h6.

‘Check.’ Still my voice! ‘Check. Checkmate.’

My opponent lays down his vinegar.

I see a hand.

I shake it.