‘What the hell are you doing in there?’ he said, ignoring me and pointing the gun at Isobel, who was staggering out of the water behind me.

She was so scared she couldn’t speak so I said that she was just cooling down, that it was such a hot day. But before I could finish my sentence he bent down and started picking Isobel’s clothes off the ground.

‘I don’t want people like you corrupting my daughter, you hear me?’ he said, glaring at Isobel.

Isobel had gone so pale I thought she was going to faint so I took her arm to steady her. When I did this Sarge went mental and threw the clothes at Isobel’s head. Then he told her to cover herself up and get the hell off his land. She was shaking as she bent to pick them up and it was terrible to see. She’d been so kind to me. I wanted to tell her I was sorry, that I didn’t mean for it to happen, that the few minutes I’d spent with her in the lake were the happiest I’d ever known, but Sarge was watching me and I knew if I said anything he’d start again with his raving and yelling. So instead I just stood there and looked at the ground while she pulled on her clothes.

She must have finished because I heard her whisper ‘Bye’, so I looked up. Her face was so sad. I wanted to hug her, to beg her to stay, but instead I just watched as she walked down the path towards the gate. There are loads of potholes on the path, Sarge is always saying he’s going to fill them but never does, and as Isobel hurried away she stumbled on the uneven ground and fell over. Her body made a horrible thumping noise as she landed and I winced, feeling every bit of her pain. I wanted to go and help her, make sure she wasn’t hurt, but as I made to go I felt Sarge’s arm on mine. ‘Leave her,’ he muttered.

I turned to look at him. His face was all red and bloated, like some dead sea creature. I hated him at that moment, for how he had treated Isobel, for what he had done to me.

‘Get in the house,’ he said, keeping his eyes on the gate.

And I was so angry and full of hate that I did what I had never done before. I shook my head.

‘I said get in the fucking house,’ he said, turning to me, his voice a whisper.

His face was so close to mine that bits of beer-scented spit hit me in my eye. I wiped it with the back of my hand then told him that he had no right to tell me what to do, that Isobel was my friend and we’d just been having fun and, remembering Isobel’s words, that it wasn’t a crime.

He glared at me and started to sway on his feet and for a moment I thought I’d got through to him, that for the first time he’d been able to see that, yes, I may be an elite soldier in training but I am also just a kid, a kid who wants to have friends and go swimming in a cool lake on a warm day.