‘And what are we making today?’ I asked facetiously. Emmy had several half-dried bottles of the stuff in the cabin, which she used for constructing origami paper animals.

‘We’re making you better,’ the doctor said severely. ‘I’ve never seen a more accident-prone family.’ He squeezed the thick white glue onto my arm, waited for it to dry, then peeled it off again like a face mask, and the rest of the tiny spikes had come out with it.

‘I’m sorry,’ Chavez apologizes again.

‘Hey, I can hardly blame you for tripping over my own shoelaces.’

‘Even so,’ he says stiffly, ‘I feel responsible.’

‘Ah, so this is your penance? Taking us to the rodeo?’

‘Of course not.’ Finally, there’s a glimmer of a smile. ‘It’s my pleasure.’

‘Why do we have to go to a rodee-o anyway?’ Jack grouses.

I want to tell him that partly it’s because it’s prudent to keep your enemies close, however friendly they might be, and partly it’s because poor Chavez had insisted, and I couldn’t really come up with a plausible excuse not to.

‘Kids.’ It’s Chavez’s turn to crane his head round now. ‘This will be a fun day out, you’ll see. Rodeos began as informal competitions among cowboys to show off their skills with roping animals and stuff. They’re a big deal round here. Today is the International High School championships. A kid that wins today gets three maybe four years of free school.’

‘Three or four years of school?’ Emmy squawks, horrified.

‘Bummer,’ Jack agrees.