GMT looks angry. ‘It’s your fault,’ she says to Le Temps. Everyone stares. We wouldn’t talk to a grown-up like that. But GMT’s 4-leap now. That makes her a grown-up.

‘My fault, indeed? Who made her weak? Her parents. Should have put her out in a storm as a baby. Look at her now. Pathetic.’

‘Not Maria. The storm, man! You think it’s cool to eat meat and dump waste. You drowned London, New York, San Francisco. We’re all gonna—’

But she doesn’t finish her sentence. Le Temps interrupts.

‘I may be called Le Temps but I don’t play God. Nature does what she likes. Nothing to do with man.’

Everything goes into slow motion. This can’t be happening. His words echo in my head and my mind is right back in my 2020 classroom, Pete LMS humiliating me, echoing the words of his dad. This can’t be happening. I can’t believe it. Le Temps is Pete LMS’s dad! My legs and feet have a mind of their own. I’m standing up and speaking before my brain has caught up.

‘You’re Pete LMS’s dad,’ I say.

‘Who’s he when he’s at home?’ says Le Temps. But unfortunately he isn’t at home, in 2020. He’s here, in 2048. In this room.

‘A factory farmer. His son was a bully. IS a bully,’ I say. ‘He goes to my school.’

‘Indeed,’ says Le Temps. ‘I’m sure his father wouldn’t be happy with that accusation.’

‘You’re lying,’ I say. ‘You’re Pete LMS’s dad. You’ve hidden Season in a cupboard and cooked meat in her kitchen and disappeared Kwesi and Noon and stolen our phones and you’re a witchcraft and I’m going to report you and you’re going to get locked up and sent to prison ad infinitum!’

The room goes crazy. I never heard so much whooping. GMT says, ‘Far out!’, Jake pretends he’s had his head chopped off, Ama raises her fist in the air and Big Ben leaps across the room and high-fives me. When I sit down, I’m shaking, angry and happy at the same time. I’m not scared any more. I don’t care if I’m sent home. I don’t care if I’m excluded from the trip. Le Temps is bad to the power of 3. Enough is enough.

‘Bravo, Elle!’ he says. ‘There’s the spirit. Knew you had it in you. Worthy of an Oscar, at least.’