Big Ben is shuffling in his seat. I can tell he’s desperate to ask another question. He raises his hand and I’m pleased Mrs Zhong chooses him again.

‘Do people steal from the museum?’

‘A very good question. Thefts are very rare. Rarer than Leaplings with The Gift! We’ve only ever had two burglaries, both from this gallery, many, many years ago.’

‘What did they steal?’ Jake, and he didn’t put his hand up. Again!

‘Sorry, we’re not allowed to disclose the details to the general public.’ Mrs Zhong purses her lips like she’s stopping the words coming out by mistake. As she says this, I’m aware someone just leapt into the corner of the room. She’s tall and tanned with long black hair wound up on her head in an elaborate sculpture of the Eiffel Tower that reminds me of Season, our friend from 2048, but this woman is younger. She could be the same age as Mrs C Eckler, which is 37. Her mid-blue jeans and jacket are made of a shimmering fabric that hasn’t been invented yet. I watch closely in case they change colour. She walks into the centre of the room like she owns it and holds out her hand to Mrs Zhong.

‘Anno. And you must be Mrs Zhong. Sorry I’m early, something cropped up. I need to speak NOW so I can attend an important meeting.’

Mrs Zhong lowers her eyebrows for a split second. I don’t blame her. It’s only 9:17 and Anno has interrupted her introduction. Being early is as bad as being late. Then Mrs Zhong smiles with her mouth but not her eyes.

‘Please welcome Mrs Anno, Director of Movement, co-founder of the Music, Maths and Movement School, who has come to talk about a recent acquisition in our 1752 collection.’

‘Anno will suffice.’ She taps her phone like she’s timing her speech. ‘Anno means year or in the year of in Latin. In addition to my other roles, I’m a sculptor who works with artefacts from leap years.’

I narrow my eyes at her as I start to feel panic surge up inside me. I find sudden changes in plan difficult, especially as my presentation is taking place straight afterwards, where I have to read my poem out loud and take questions from the audience. Now I don’t know exactly what time I’ll have to stand up. Will it be in five minutes’ time at 9:22, which is a messy, in-between number, or will Anno shorten her speech because she has to rush off to her meeting? I was already anxious about the reading but that was manageable. Now, my anxiety has gone into overdrive. Many more possibilities start buzzing round my head until I feel dizzy and overwhelmed.

Mrs C Eckler comes over to me and whispers, ‘Do you need time-out?’