I dreamt of matchboxes, of the matchbox I had been shown, I dreamt of breaking the seal, of slowly pushing the cardboard drawer open and hearing then that there was something in there, something other than matchsticks, something living, something muttering, something horrible. I woke up frightened. I don’t know how long I had been sleeping, my arm was very stiff. There was whispering in the dormitory, perhaps it was the whispering that had woken me.

‘She hasn’t said much,’ came a voice.

‘But she will, she’ll give it up, she’ll tell us everything. The stories. The news.’

‘She must give it up.’

‘What a thing to keep to yourself.’

‘I cannot believe she’ll be so selfish.’

‘She’s very fresh.’

‘I like her.’

‘I’ll like her if she tells us, not until.’

‘But she does look new, doesn’t she? Very new.’

‘So, so fresh.’

‘But she’s asleep. Totally sleeping. Out and out, we shan’t get nothing tonight.’

‘So then, what do we do?’

‘Tell some history or other.’

‘Piggott’s definitely sleeping?’

‘Think so.’

‘Then I’ll be Grice. My name is Grice W—’

‘You were Grice Wivvin last week.’

‘It’s not her turn, it’s mine, and I don’t want to be Grice, I want to be Helun Parsinn. My name is Helun and I was born –’

‘No! Not you and not Helun, it’s me and I’m going to be Oldrey Inkplott. Hello, this is little Oldrey, I am from London –’

‘How about being her?’

‘Who, the new Iremonger?’

‘Yes, why not? I’m sick of the old stories.’

‘Yes! Her! But … but we don’t know her story.’

‘Guess it. Guess it. Let us have a new history!’

‘What was her name, her name! Does anyone remember it?’

‘I do. I do!’

‘Say then. Go on.’

‘It was … oh it was … ah it was … Lossy Permit.’

‘Oh, Lossy! Lossy Permit!’

‘My name is Lossy Permit.’

‘Where are you from, Lossy? Oh, Lossy, do tell us.’

‘I am Lungdon born and bred, I am from Spittingfeels.’

‘I, Lossy Permit, grew up in a mansion smelling of soap.’

‘I, Lossy, am from the circus – my mother had a beard and my father was as tall as a house.’

I sat up then, I’d have no more of their nonsense. I cleared my throat and said, ‘I have thick red hair and a round face and a nose that points upwards. My eyes are green with flecks in them, but that’s not the only place I’m dotted. There’s punctuation all over me. I’m freckled and spotted and moled and have one or two corns on my feet. My teeth are not quite white. One tooth is crooked. One of my nostrils is slightly bigger than the other. I chew my fingernails. My name is Lucy Pennant.’

‘Oh yes, oh yes please. Can you tell us?’

‘Tell us, do please, your history.’