I opened the bag – inside was something small and black with numbers and a little screen, plus a lead with a plug. At first I thought it was a weird calculator, but I read the note again and realized it must be some kind of phone. I’d seen phones in films, but Dad and I didn’t have one at the house. And I’d never seen one like this – it was tiny. I pressed the button that looked like it switched it on and the screen came to life. It took me a while to work out how to use it but eventually I tried a button which had a picture of an address book on and there was just one number next to a name – Fred. I pressed another button with a picture of a phone receiver on and held it to my ear.

‘Hello?’ I said as Fred’s voice started to speak but then felt stupid when I realized it was a recorded message. I waited for the beep and then said: ‘Fred! Thanks for the phone. Brilliant idea. I’ll call you later. I … miss you. See you soon.’

I ran back up to the house and up to my room, shoved the phone in its box to the back of a drawer and hurried downstairs to Dad.

As soon as my lessons for the day were over I rushed upstairs, ferreted in my drawer for the phone and switched it on.

The screen lit up and nothing happened for a few seconds, before it went ‘BEEP BEEP’ incredibly loudly.

‘Ssssh!!!’ I hissed at it, throwing it under the bed in case Dad had heard and came in to investigate. A couple of minutes later, when he hadn’t appeared, I lay down on my stomach to retrieve the phone. Still lying on the floor, I looked at the screen.

‘One message’ it said. A rush of excitement went through me – it could only be from Fred. I scrabbled out from under the bed and pressed a couple of buttons, my hands shaking with impatience, but nothing happened. It took ages but eventually I found the right button, pressed it and held it to my ear.

‘You have … one message,’ an electronic lady said. ‘Message. Received. Today. At. 11.37 a.m.’

Yes, yes, yes, I said impatiently inside my head. Get on with it. Hurry up.

I held my breath as I waited for his voice. ‘Laura? Glad you found the phone. Nice one. Um … yeah. Let me know when we can meet. Bye for now.’

I listened as the electronic lady came back on and asked me if I’d like to listen to the message again, call back or delete.

I listened again. And again. And again.

Later on, after fiddling around with the phone for ages, I worked out what Fred meant when he said to text – you could use the keypad a bit like a typewriter.