There were a lot of kids like the Mad King here at Ascot, ones with conditions and syndromes. It was like they’d been collected, or, more likely, dumped here by other kids. There was a general air of craziness about the place and Ed sometimes thought it was appropriate they lived in a hospital. Once he’d got used to it, though, it was fine. The kids looked after each other and their combined strangeness gave them a sort of power.

It was Arno who’d come up with the idea for the races. And it was Arno who’d given Ed the idea for his plan.

Ed had eaten dinner with him the night after he’d arrived, sharing some cider and scavenged food.

‘I don’t like kids fighting other kids,’ Arno had said. ‘The races are a way of letting them compete without killing each other. At least most of the time. You see how football used to be? Or the Olympics? They were a way of waging war without too many casualties. Things around here are much better than they used to be. Plus, it stops us from getting bored. That’s the worst thing about the disease. Nothing happens for weeks and then there’s some sudden mad fight against marauding grown-ups, and for a short time you’re absolutely bloody terrified, and then it’s back to the grind and the boredom.’

‘But what happens exactly?’ Ed asked.

‘Each camp puts in a team. Simple.’

‘And what do you get for winning?’

‘Whatever you want, man. You get to choose. Until the next games your camp becomes top dog. Like Ancient Rome. You are the emperor.’

‘Does Ascot ever win?’

‘What do you think? You’ve seen what we’re like.’

‘Fair point.’

‘But the thing is, Ed – we don’t need to win. We make a profit from the races. Everyone coming here, betting. Just don’t tell anyone, yeah?’

‘But if you did win the races …’ Ed wasn’t going to let this go. ‘You could choose your prize?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Who’s the captain?’

‘Can’t be me. Girl called Veda did it last time. But she ran off to Windsor. Never really fitted in here. I was going to ask Sophie; she seems sensible.’

‘Would you let me do it?’

‘We never win, Ed.’

‘So you’ve got nothing to lose.’

And that was why Ed was sitting there, wearing a baggy white T-shirt over his clothes, anxious to see how his team was going to do.

It was like a medieval tournament. Each of the six settlements had their own colours. If kids didn’t have jackets or shirts of the right colour they wore T-shirts over their other clothes, like Ed, or carried home-made flags, or headscarves. Some had even painted their faces.

Ascot wore white, Bracknell was green, Sandhurst was black, Slough was red, Maidenhead was blue and Windsor was yellow, or gold if they had it.