It was the lights that woke me, red and blue lights, and doors closing, the doors of a van or some kind of vehicle bigger than a car. I couldn’t see the street from my room though. Something was going on out there. It was after midnight. The lights were still on in George’s too, but I couldn’t see anyone in the conservatory. The li-lo was blown up and beside the pool, and the window frames cast a long grid of shadows across his empty garden all the way to the shed.

The van drove off and two cars followed. Clarence Road was silent again. My head still wasn’t clear. I was full of food and weird dreams. I went back to bed.

I missed Capability when he visited the next morning. I was still sleeping. Mrs Keene had got to her sister’s, eaten a late supper and opened her package from George. It contained the deeds to a cottage in Sheen, two streets from her sister’s house, as well as five thousand pounds in cash. She called the police, who broke in next door to find George unconscious on the li-lo in the pool, with a near-empty glass of brandy laced with sleeping pills on the tiles nearby.

He was in intensive care on Boxing Day morning, and for two more days. After that, Capability heard, he was moved to a private clinic in the Cotswolds, with an anonymous actor friend paying the bill. I imagined it was Dirk Bogarde. It seemed like the kind of thing he would do.

The vultures had come, but silently, and I hadn’t noticed them.

The Empires closed, all of them, and were sold off one by one. The house was put up for sale too. A letter arrived from the receivers, reclaiming the silver tea set, the Captain Cook map and one hundred pounds George told them he had given to me and Michael to share. There was no mention of the Napoleonic soldier, or the cameleers. Or the other four hundred pounds, which I hid under my mattress before anyone thought to ask.

After that, people walked past George’s house with their heads down. Everyone knew, somehow.

A month later, or perhaps six weeks, I noticed the pool water was turning green.

The gnome lay alone in George’s garden until Capability moved it into ours.

Once George’s house was sold, the new owners cleaned the pool and painted the garden shed white.

Other than on Christmas Day, Michael never really played with the soldiers. I bought paints for them at Hamleys, and a ten-pound child-sized teddy bear for him as a swap. We called the bear George, and Michael slept with it in his bed every night. George joined us at breakfast too, with his own plastic plate and cup.