He released his grip and slowly got to his feet, hearing the disappointment in the others’ voices.

Simon rolled away from the hollow, spitting out brown rainwater. He tried to get to his knees, but was immediately pushed over.

‘You think you’re so fucking special.’ Alex hardly recognised Bruno’s voice; it was so full of hatred. ‘You think you can do whatever you like, don’t you?’

Once again Simon made a wobbly attempt to stand up, this time facing in a different direction, but once again he was pushed over. It was Carina’s turn now.

‘You’re nothing but a little shit, Simon. You know that, don’t you?’

Simon rolled sideways and tried a third direction, only to be knocked back by Marie. She hit him with such force that he banged his head on a stone.

‘Letting me down with no warning – we’re like brother and sister!’

Simon rubbed the back of his head, and his face contorted.

‘Look, he’s crying!’ Alex shouted. ‘What a fucking baby!’

‘Fucking idiots,’ Simon managed to say. His voice sounded fragile, desperate.

He was still trying to stand up, but Alex was having none of it.

‘You’re the one who’s an idiot, Simon,’ he said with a grin. The sense of power filled his body, made him feel better than he’d done for a long time. ‘Say you’re an idiot and we might let you get up.’

Simon shook his head. There were tears pouring down his face, tears of rage, tears of humiliation. He rolled over again, but the headlock and the brief wrestling match had used up most of his strength. Alex signalled to the others to close the circle. They formed a dense forest of legs, blocking any escape route.

‘Say you’re an idiot!’ Alex repeated. ‘Say you’re a fucking cry baby and we’ll let you go.’

Simon pushed himself up with his arms and was rewarded with a kick to his cheekbone, so hard that his teeth rattled.

‘Say it!’ Alex yelled.

Simon collapsed, rested his forearms on his knees and lowered his head.

‘I’m an idiot,’ he mumbled.

‘Louder!’ Carina shouted.

‘I’m an idiot.’

‘Say you’re a traitor!’ Marie chipped in.

‘I’m a traitor.’

‘Say your dad should be in the loony bin!’

Simon looked up. His hair was soaking wet, the pouring rain was running down his face. There was a strange sheen to his eyes.

‘Say it,’ Bruno hissed. ‘Say your dad should be in the loony bin.’