I lift my knees as high as they will go and kick my heels high. My muscles are burning, my lungs are screaming and my mind is calm. It’s a soft night and the damp dark sky falls down around my shoulders like a cloak.

When the man sees that I am just sprinting up and down the street, he stops, holds his sides, puffing. ‘Lunatic.’

I look up and see the stars. They are so close I could touch them. I think of Mama telling me to wish upon the brightest star in all the sky. Maybe if I reach up I’ll be able to draw one down. The moon is tiny and buttercup yellow. I see flashes of its face as the clouds careen across its surface.

When there is no breath left inside me, when my insides are coming up into my mouth, I slow down and gently jog. Sammy has come to the door to join the others and claps me, as if cheering me on over a finishing line. I go into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. The man who was chasing me walks in and cracks me on the side of my head with his hand. I fall to the ground and the man walks out, muttering under his breath.

Sammy hunkers beside me. ‘Hey, looper, you ok?’

I push myself to sitting.

‘I know what to get you for Christmas. How about the latest Nike Air? You could be an Olympic runner … such talent!’

‘What is Nike Air?’

She laughs loudly and I try to join in, before my brain does a flip and hits itself against the side of my head. It goes dark for a few moments and I feel Sammy lift me and carry me back to the bedroom.

‘Well, we are a right pair!’ Sammy says, when I open my eyes. She’s sitting on the edge of my bed, holding a wet facecloth to the side of my head. ‘Quite a shiner!’

I push myself onto my elbows and come to sitting. Sammy plumps up the pillows behind my head and holds out a glass of water. I sip.

‘How are you? Bad night?’ she asks.

‘I needed running.’

‘Know the feeling! They’d have a much happier, more productive team if they let us out for a bit of exercise once in a while. Did no one ever tell them that exercise in the fresh air is good for the morale?’

Her words are pouring out of her, electric, exciting, and I’m getting caught up in them, smelling the old fellow’s leathery scent on the wind, feeling the breeze whipping my cheeks.

‘I spended many times running,’ I say.

‘Me too,’ Sammy says, and falls silent.