The drop down to the water now was almost as tall as the side of a house. It would have been dangerous, but someone had put up a wooden fence to stop you falling over the edge.

The snow had stopped, or rather turned back to wet sleet. And the trees were thicker here, so that there wasn’t much snow lying on the ground. I took Tina out of my jacket and put her down. She looked happy to be among the trees and cocked her leg a few times.

I was suddenly starving. And then I remembered that we didn’t have to find the village to have something to eat.

“Kenny,” I said. “The sarnies!”

“What?” Kenny asked. “Oh yeah! And there’s pop left.”

Kenny was carrying the bag on his back. It had been there in plain sight all along. We stood next to the fence, looking down on the stream. It was frothing and raging below, but it seemed more happy than angry. It reminded me of being at junior school when the bell for the end of the day went. You sprinted out of the school gates, screaming and leaping for joy.

Kenny dug down into the Adidas bag. He’d put the sandwiches back inside the empty bag from the sliced bread and then tied a knot in the neck. He had to take my gloves off to untie it. For a second I thought how nice and snug it must have been for his fingers wrapped up in the warm wool.

“What shall I have first – cheese or jam?” I said. Already my mouth was filling up with saliva.

“Eh?” Kenny asked, as if I’d said something in Chinese.

“Oh, never mind. Just give me whatever comes out.”

Kenny reached down inside the plastic bag and pulled out a sandwich. I grabbed it and took a massive bite.

I nearly puked. I spat out what I’d bitten. Then I grabbed the cola bottle and had a good swig.

“Shit, Kenny, what the bloody hell is that?” I said.

Kenny looked at me, still clearly puzzled. “Sandwich …”

“Yeah, but what …?”

“Cheese and jam,” Kenny told me. “Like you said.”

“You put cheese and jam in the same sandwich?”

“Yeah. You said to.”

“I told you to make cheese sandwiches and jam sandwiches,” I said.

“You said cheese and jam. So that’s what I done.”

Then Kenny took one of the sandwiches and started to eat it. He chewed it slowly for a while, as if he was considering some deep problem about the meaning of life.

“Tastes all right,” Kenny said.

“Nutter,” I said, and I tried not to smile. Then I had another bite of my sandwich.

“I’ve had worse things for dinner,” I said.