Why was it always like this? You had something nice like the chickens then something horrid like this trapped mother. Nice then horrid. Nice then horrid. And always the horrid thing was a hundred times worse than the nice thing.

Ella sat on a tree stump and waited for Scarface to finish what he was doing. Finally she heard the thud of the mother’s body hitting the ground and the sound of her being dragged away. Ella couldn’t help turning back to watch. Scarface had the mother by the ankles and was pulling her along through the field next to the road. Ella followed them at a distance.

There was a harsh croak from above and she looked up to see a whole flock of crows circling above them, black marks against the grey sky.

Scarface got to the middle of the overgrown field and stopped, let go of the mother’s puffy legs. Ella stopped too, not wanting to go any closer. She could see a clump of white sticks. Scarface left the mother there, rubbed his hands together, wiped them on his combat trousers and then came back over to Ella.

He waved to her to come with him and went over to a tall tree growing high above the other trees and bushes that surrounded the farm. He showed her some wooden boards that had been nailed to the trunk, making a sort of ladder, and she saw that there was a platform up in the branches, like a tree house. He started to climb and she went up after him, trying not to slip on the steps that were wet and slippery from the rain. It was drier at the top as there was a canvas sheet tied to the branches above the platform to make a roof.

Ella noticed that there were other platforms in the trees, half hidden among the branches and leaves, with ropes joining them. Scarface sat on the edge of the platform and Ella joined him, dangling her legs over the edge, trying not to look straight down. The platform was much higher than it had looked from the ground and you could see for miles. The area they were in was mostly fields and woods, but not far away were other buildings, and here and there she could see the grey streak of a road.

She felt safe up there in the treetops and began to sing. ‘Ella and Face-Ache sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.’ She stopped and turned to Scarface, who was staring at her with his one good eye.