Ella went to him and saw that he had partly uncovered a door of some sort that he must have taken from one of the farm buildings. It was covered with dirt and leaves and stones. They managed to lift it just far enough for Ella to see that there was a hole underneath. First she pushed in the bag and then she helped Scarface slide in and drop down. He found the strength to hold the door up so that Ella could fit under it and she squeezed through. There was a short tunnel that they crawled along to where it opened out into a sort of burrow just large enough for the two of them.

Ella switched on her torch. They were right in among the tree roots that formed a cage around them. She saw bags and boxes tucked into gaps between the roots and some smaller animal holes going off to the sides.

‘I think badgers made it originally,’ said Scarface, flopping down on to an old mattress. ‘Or maybe foxes. I dug it out some more. I always knew it would be useful one day. You’ve got to think ahead.’

His voice was so quiet Ella could hardly hear it. It was a dry, rustling noise. She shone the torch in his face and he screwed his good eye shut.

‘What are you doing?’ he complained.

‘You need a new bandage,’ she said.

‘In the bag.’

Ella went to fetch the rucksack, undid the top of it and started to take stuff out. She was amazed at how much was packed into it: weapons and tools and clothing and food and drink. About halfway down she found a medicine kit.

She cleaned Scarface’s wounds again and wiped them with antiseptic. Then they drank some water and ate some stale chocolate in silence.

Ella started to shake so she lay down next to Scarface and wrapped herself in a blanket, waiting for the shaking to go away. She closed her eyes, hoping to sleep.

After a few minutes she opened her eyes and pointed the torch at the roof. There were smaller white roots, like fingers, or claws, poking through the earth above her head.

‘Save the torch,’ said Scarface and she switched it off. It was dark now. She was still shaking. Scarface found her hand and held on to it.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘I can’t sleep,’ said Ella. ‘I thought nothing could keep me awake, but lying here now, I can’t sleep. My body won’t let me.’

‘Me either,’ said Scarface.

‘Tell me a story,’ said Ella.

‘What story?’

‘Your story. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know anything about you. You say you’re not a grown-up, so what are you? Tell me.’

‘OK. But it’ll be our story, though, yeah? You’ll not tell anyone else.’

‘There isn’t anyone else here … Except maybe a rabbit or a mole.’