Frederick never says anything at all.

He’s helpful at the dairy, Mum says.

But he never speaks.

Not ever.

Not a single word.

He had a book in his hand, with pictures of really old-fashioned people on the front. Crime and … something. It was upside down from where I was looking.

“S’all right, Mrs Gebby,” said Jed. “We’re OK. I’ll carry it from here, Trig.” He picked the canister up like it was made of feathers.

Trig smiled at Frederick.

Frederick stared back.

“C’mon, Trig,” said Jed.

“Yeah. C’mon.” I grabbed Trig’s arm. “Bye, Frederick. Bye, Mrs Gebby.”

Frederick carried on staring.

Mrs Gebby carried on clickering.

Jed loped off towards home. Me and Trig scampered after him.

“Maggie?” Trig tugged on my sleeve. “Lindi says Frederick used to speak when he was a littlest. Says he used to speak all the time. He never says anything though now, does he? She says it’s because he went outside the boundary. Is that true, Maggie? Is it true?”

“Shush!” I said. “Whispering’s supposed to be quiet – not louder than how you usually talk.” I glanced behind me. Didn’t look like they’d heard.

“C’mon,” Jed called over his shoulder. “Let’s get home.”

CHAPTER 7

Mum was sitting at the table. Her feet were resting right on top of Dad’s bag. Great. How was I going to get the antibiotics now?

Jed plonked the canister on the floor. “Gift from the mayor,” he said. “One for each household.”

“Excellent.” Dad put it by the back door. “I’ll tuck that away in the shed for emergencies. Blessed generator always breaks down when it’s coldest.”

“Mum!” Trig was the last in, just like always. He flung his arms round Mum. “You’re never home this early.”

“Mr Wetheral’s coming over.” Mum hugged Trig back. “Didn’t I tell you? Bringing Jed’s portrait. I wanted to be here.”

Jed’s portrait. All the eldests had them done. Just the eldests, though. Not the youngests. And certainly not the middlers.

“Oh yeah.” Jed pulled open the larder door and found the biscuit tin. He popped the lid off and fished out a shortbread. “He said he’d bring it over before I leave for camp. Glad I don’t have to go to his house any more. Never been so bored in my life.”

“Mr Wetheral likes to spend a lot of time with his subjects.” Dad wiped the table with a dishcloth. “Helps him to capture The Real You.”

“Couldn’t he have captured it a bit quicker?” Jed sprayed crumbs out of his mouth.

I took a shortbread from the tin. Bit into it. Sweet and dry and buttery.

I need you to get some food. For me and my dad.

Would anyone notice if I took a few more?

Knock-knock. Knock-knock.

“That’ll be Mr Wetheral now. Get the door, will you, Magsie?”