His voice sounds like his mouth is too big for the words and they echo in it. Ama grabs her bag and leaves the room. She makes the café door slam behind her and we all jump. I didn’t think doors could slam here. I thought they invented them to be quiet. I’m scared Ama’s going to get into trouble.

I look at Big Ben. The sun’s shining through the window on him like a spotlight. He’s muttering under his breath and it’s hard to hear what he’s saying but I think he might be counting. Le Temps’s eyebrows dip into his eyes.

‘Ben. Your phone, please.’

Big Ben looks at the ground. Le Temps turns to me.

‘Maybe you could persuade Ben to hand over his phone?’

Big Ben stops muttering. It’s worse now because I don’t know what he’s going to do next. Is he going to throw a chair? But he doesn’t throw a chair. I think his Anger Management strategies are starting to work. He rummages in his bag, produces his Chronophone and aims it across the room at Le Temps like he’s throwing a javelin. Le Temps catches it mid-air. It’s a good catch and Jake whoops. I don’t know whether he’s whooping the throw or the catch or both. Le Temps shakes his head at Big Ben.

Then it’s silent. Like the whole café’s on pause. No one says a word. Everyone, even Jake, is looking at the floor. Then Big Ben stands up, stays standing like a statue for ages, like he isn’t sure what to do with his body. I think he’s grown two inches this week alone. And runs out of the room.

He leaves as Ama arrives back, Chronophone in her hand. She doesn’t throw it like Big Ben. She hands it in, sucks her teeth like Grandma does when someone tries to charge her too much in the market and walks slowly out of the room with her head in the air. Le Temps shows his teeth like an advert.

‘Thank you for your cooperation,’ he says.