She sticks her head outside again, inhales the fresh, cold air and tries to work out how far off the ground they are. Joe Rylander’s broken body immediately appears in her mind’s eye. The drop is greater than the one at Glarea – seventy, eighty metres, maybe more, and definitely too much for anyone to survive if they jumped.

When she turns again, it is difficult to see because of all the smoke. She coughs and edges towards the corner where Lisa is sitting. Within seconds she has to drop to her knees. The smoke is thicker now; it’s hard to breathe. Tears are pouring from her eyes, and she can only just make out Lisa by the wall. She crawls along, feeling her way across the floor. The heat is intensifying all the time.

‘Anna . . .’ Lisa’s voice is right beside her. They wrap their arms around each other and press their bodies up against the wood panelling. The stained-glass windows begin to explode because of the heat, and Anna is out of ideas. All they can do is huddle in the corner and wait for the inevitable end. Her head is heavy, she pictures Agnes. Agnes, who will be an orphan at the age of sixteen.

The whole building is creaking now; the fire has spread to the roof. Anna squeezes her eyes tight shut, blinking away the tears, coughing uncontrollably. Suddenly she feels a movement against her shoulder. The panel on her right shudders, then disappears outwards. At first, she thinks the place is beginning to collapse, but she can’t understand why it’s started at the furthest point from the seat of the fire. Fresh air comes pouring in, dispersing the smoke around them so that it becomes easier to see and to breathe. A hole has opened up in the wall, a hole so perfectly symmetrical that there must have been a well-hidden trapdoor. A trapdoor made to give access to a slide. She senses a movement, and a big head appears. It is Mats Andersson.