And shame upon their kin.

Most of all,

Shame upon the wanderers.

Let peace settle over the Quiet War,

Truly and forever.”

They really are heroes. And special. And brave.

It felt true and good to say the chant. Truer and gooder than it had ever felt before. It was true and good that I was going to be painting portraits of eldests.

The mayor mouthed something to Neel Parker. He dodged round the side of the house.

After this I’d go straight to the cemetery.

Find Una.

Shame upon the wanderers.

I’d carry on with my plan to hand her in. It was the right thing to do. I touched Grandad Cruise’s watch, its curved, smooth edges.

Ter-rutt-terutt-trutt. The sound of the mayor’s jeep, choking into life. It chuggered round the corner into sight, Neel in the driver’s seat.

Jed held out his hand to Lindi. She grabbed it, and they climbed in together.

My body lurched forwards.

Dad pulled me back.

Don’t go, Jed. Don’t go.

Lyle took the sock out of the trumpet and gave the gramophone a good wind-up. The music screeched. Trig covered his ears.

Lindi’s face – still neat, still proper, still bruised – stared from the back window. Mrs Chowdhry cried out. The crowd wrapped itself around her, hushing her down.

Dad’s grip hardened on my shoulders.

The music swung round the sides of the square.

Neel got out of the jeep and held the door open for the mayor. She lifted a solemn palm to us, and climbed in.

Neel gave the jeep’s roof a couple of goodbye smacks. Thwack, thwack.

Churrrrrrr-utt. Black smoke belched from the back. As they drove off, Jed wrapped an arm round Lindi.

I’m sure he did.

I’m sure.

The crowd murmured and shuffled and loosened.

Mrs Chowdhry sobbed.

Mum took hold of Trig’s hand.

“Our eldests are heroes,” she said. “Let’s go home.”

I squirmed out of Dad’s grip.

“I’m not coming.”

CHAPTER 16

I ran.

Faster and faster and faster.

My brother was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.

I ran down Frog Alley.

Past the caravans.

Stupid Jed. He drove me mad with his braveness and his specialness and his being an eldest.

Over the ridges.

Across the field.

Faster and faster.

I was going to miss him so much my chest was tearing in two with the whole pain of it.

Up to the cemetery.

Faster and faster.

My brother was gone.

He wasn’t coming back.

I had to find out where Una was living. I had to find evidence.

I had to do something. Anything.

I hated wanderers.

Shame upon the wanderers.

I hated Una.

Shame upon Una.

I collapsed under the tree, on William Whittington. Sweat ran off my hair and behind my ears.

I tried to tighten the strap on Grandad Cruise’s watch. My tears dropped on to its round face.