Sometimes Johnny’s mind worked fast. Normally it worked so slowly that it embarrassed him, but just occasionally it had a burst of speed.

‘He’s a prince,’ he said.

‘Prince Sega,’ said Yo-less.

‘All the way from Nintendo,’ said Johnny.

‘He’s here to buy a newspaper,’ said Kirsty, who in some ways did not have a lot of imagination.

Johnny reached into his own pocket, and then hesitated.

‘Only we haven’t got any money,’ he said.

‘Yes we have, I’ve got at least two pou—’ Kirsty began.

‘We haven’t got the right money,’ said Johnny meaningfully. ‘It was pounds and shillings and pence in those days, not pounds and pee—’

‘Pee?’ said the woman. She looked from one to the other like someone who hopes that it’ll all make sense if they pay enough attention.

Johnny craned his head. There were a few newspapers still on the counter, even though it was the afternoon. One was The Times. He could just make out the date.

May 21, 1941.

‘Oh, you have a paper, dear,’ said the old woman, giving up, ‘I don’t suppose I shall sell any more today.’

‘Thank you very much,’ said Johnny, grabbing a paper and hurrying the other two out of the shop.

‘Sambo,’ said Yo-less, when they were outside.

‘What?’ said Kirsty. ‘Oh, that. Never mind about that. Give me that newspaper.

‘My grandad came here in 1952,’ said Yo-less, in the same plonking, hollow voice. ‘He said little kids thought his colour’d come off if he washed.’

‘Yes, well, I can see you’re upset, but that’s just how things were, it’s all changed since then,’ said Kirsty, turning the pages.

‘Then hasn’t even happened yet,’ said Yo-less. ‘I’m not stupid. I’ve read old books. We’re back in golliwog history. Plucky niggers and hooray for the Empire. She called me Sambo.’

‘Look,’ said Kirsty, still reading the newspaper. ‘This is the olden days. She didn’t mean it … you know, nastily. It’s just how she was brought up. You people can’t expect us to rewrite history, you know.’

Johnny suddenly felt as though he’d stepped into a deep freeze. It was almost certainly the you people. Sambo had been an insult, but you people was worse, because it wasn’t even personal.

He had never seen Yo-less so angry. It was a kind of rigid, brittle anger. How could someone as intelligent as Kirsty be so dumb? What she needed to do now was say something sensible.

‘Well, I’m certainly glad you’re here,’ said Yo-less, sarcasm gleaming on his words. ‘So’s you can explain all this to me.’

‘All right, don’t go on about it,’ she said, without looking up. ‘It’s not that important.’

It was amazing, Johnny thought. Kirsty had a sort of talent for striking matches in a firework factory.

Yo-less took a deep breath.

Johnny patted him on the arm.

‘She didn’t mean it … you know, nastily,’ he said. ‘It’s just how she was brought up.’

Yo-less sagged, and nodded coldly.

‘You know we’re in the middle of a war, don’t you,’ said Kirsty. ‘That’s what we’ve ended up in. World War Two. It was very popular around this time.’