Bertie had always believed that the government, if it were to hear of his difficulties, would side with him – after all, he had read that there was something called the Human Rights Act which he had always hoped might refer, even if only indirectly, to the position of boys whose mothers were … well, whose mothers had never heard of the European Convention on Human Rights. But now it seemed that the government had come round to his mother’s position, which made the world rather less comfortable from his perspective. Freedom – that tiny square of blue sky – could only be glimpsed with difficulty in Bertie’s world; now it seemed at once smaller, more clouded, and more distant.

Bertie decided that he would have no alternative but to use the kettle to steam open the letter. Poking his head out of the door to check that there was no sign of his parents, he crept along the corridor that led to the kitchen. When he saw that his mother was not there, he quickly put on the kettle and waited for the water to boil. This happened quickly, and there was soon an obliging cloud of steam issuing from the spout. It was into this that Bertie inserted the letter, and he watched with pleasure as the flap wilted and opened – exactly as had been predicted in 100 Things for a Boy to Do: Part 1.

Back in his room, Bertie extracted Akela’s letter from the damp envelope and sat down on his bed to read it.

Dear Parent or Guardian,

It is at this stage in the summer term that we begin to think of plans for the holidays. Here at the First Morningside Cub Scout Pack we have been putting our heads together to think of what we can do for the boys and girls during the summer break. I had planned to see whether we could manage a three-day camp at Bonaly some time in August, but unfortunately that just does not look possible for one reason or another. However, I am happy to report that a cancellation has opened up a weekend slot in three weeks’ time and I have taken the plunge and booked the facilities for that weekend. We shall therefore be offering everybody in the pack a two-night camp (Friday evening to Sunday afternoon) at Bonaly. We shall spend the night under canvas, and all catering will be done on open fires. (Weather permitting!)

Bertie read this with a growing sense of excitement. He had never been camping before and the prospect of spending the night under canvas was profoundly thrilling. And their food would be cooked over fires, which they might be allowed to make themselves by rubbing sticks together, as Mr Baden-Powell had demonstrated in Scouting for Boys. He could almost smell the sausages already – and the marshmallows that they could put on sticks and toast on those same open fires. With racing pulse he read on.