‘I don’t care,’ said Thierry. ‘I’m not going to waste another day. We need to be finished by Christmas Eve.’

And then he walked straight out and past me down the stairs to the first floor. I was standing behind the dust-sheet, and he didn’t see me as he went by; but I saw him quite close up, and there was a look on his face I didn’t like at all. It was a kind of smug look; not quite a smile, with too many teeth. As if Santa Claus, instead of giving out presents for all the kids, had decided to keep them all for himself this year. And just then I hated Thierry. Not just because he’d shouted at Roux, but because he thought he was better than Roux. You could see it in the way he looked at him; in the way he stood over him, like someone getting a shoeshine; and in his colours there was something more – something that might have been envy, or worse—

Roux was sitting cross-legged on the floor, the filter-mask around his neck and a bottle of water in his hand.

‘Anouk!’ He grinned. ‘Is Vianne here?’

I shook my head. His face fell.

‘Why didn’t you come? You said you would.’

‘I’ve been busy, that’s all.’ He jerked his chin up at the room, all gift-wrapped in builders’ cellophane. ‘Do you like it?’

‘Meh,’ I said.

‘No more moving. Room of your own. Near the school, and everything.’

Sometimes I wonder why adults make such a big deal out of education when it’s obvious that kids know far more about life than they do. Why do they make it so complicated? Why can’t they keep it simple, for once?

‘I heard what Thierry said to you. He shouldn’t talk to you like that. He thinks he’s so much better than you. Why don’t you tell him to get lost?’

Roux shrugged. ‘I’m getting paid. Besides—’ I saw the gleam in his eyes. ‘I may get my own back some time soon.’

I sat down next to him on the floor. He smelt of sweat and of the sawdust he’d been working in; his arms and hair were dusted with it. But something about him was different. I couldn’t quite figure it out. A kind of funny, bright, hopeful look that hadn’t been there at the chocolaterie.

‘So what can I do for you, Anouk?’

Tell Roux he’s a father. Yeah. Right. Like so many things, it sounds easy. But when it comes to the practical—