Ama’s sitting opposite me. She had to stop Eve complaining about the food because everyone would realise she’s not Noon. Eve’s gone back to the chalet to sulk. Noon forgot to tell her there’s no meat. This food must look alien compared to 1924. Ama’s eating chocolate sponge and custard. It looks and smells amazing but I’m too scared to eat it. I wish I could be more adventurous like Ama. She’s making the kind of noises you make when you love the food. Big Ben’s on my right. He hasn’t left my side since I came to the canteen. I went back to the chalet to lie down a bit after fainting so they didn’t see me all afternoon.

‘You should have seen Big Ben. HEARD him. He went crazy. Thought you were dead!’ says Ama.

‘I only fainted,’ I say. I don’t really feel like talking. Only eating! I break open the roll. It’s still warm and the coconut oil melts into it. I take a bite.

Big Ben still looks pale, as if he was the one who passed out, not me. He’s hardly eating anything. Not himself at all.

‘I couldn’t see you. Then they said I can’t come in the room.’

‘Tried to kick the door down.’ Ama laughs. She thinks it’s funny. ‘He missed the whole outdoor session. MC2 carried on as normal. He wasn’t quite sure how far you’d leapt into the future but he guessed around an hour. “The show must go on,” he said.’

‘I like him now,’ I say. ‘Even though he’s a criminal. He’s trying to help us.’

Big Ben stands up so quickly I’m scared he’s going to throw a chair. He starts grinding his teeth.

‘Do you want to do running?’ I say.

He gives me the glass-eye, still grinding his teeth. His fists are clenched. But why? MC2 is helping us. Maybe he doesn’t know Noon’s missing. That Noon is Eve. I want to get a piece of coconut cake but I don’t want to leave Big Ben like this. Season comes over, sits opposite him.

‘Ben, do you want to see Fiona?’

There’s a long, long pause. It looks like Big Ben’s gone into a trance. Then he nods his head and slowly follows Season out of the café. A minute later I see them through the glass. Big Ben’s sitting in the driver’s seat and Season’s in the passenger seat. I’m worried he’ll start the car and speed off at 200 miles per hour but he doesn’t. He just sits in the driver’s seat, pretending to drive.