‘Did we all need to mark our maps then?’ asked Tom. He was sitting with one arm leaned casually on his raised left knee, his long right leg stretched out in front of him so his foot was near the fire.

‘Yes, everyone should have the route marked out before we set off,’ said Mr Stevens.

James heard Gary let out a sigh. It was quiet, almost under his breath, but Mr Stevens’ head swivelled in his direction just the same.

‘Did you say something, Gareth?’

Gary sighed again, louder this time. ‘Nah, it’s just that, well, do we really all need to mark it out? I mean we’re not all going to be navigating, are we?’

‘I hope you’re not going to be navigating,’ grinned Tom. ‘We’d never get out of the car park.’

Gary scowled. ‘We’re only doing, what, 60 odd miles in three days? It’s not like Rutmoor’s the Amazon forest—’

‘Rainforest,’ muttered James, quiet enough so Gary wouldn’t hear.

‘And besides,’ continued Gary, ‘We’ll probably never be more than a couple of miles from a path.’

He tilted his head back and rubbed his chin. It was a habit James noticed he’d copied from his father a while ago, and James found himself thinking It’s less impressive when you don’t even have any stubble yet you idiot. He knew if he ever said that Gary would come back at him with something worse, though, so he kept quiet.

There was silence for a few seconds, and then Mr Stevens cleared his throat. Tim shot a glance up at his father, then looked back into the fire.

‘Timothy, pass Gareth your map,’ he said.

Tim handed the map over to Gary, who took it with another, more audible sigh.

‘If you look at the route, Gareth, you’ll see that we’re actually travelling to an area of the moor that’s probably the furthest in the park from any roads. We’re carving out west tomorrow and then heading up north, and by Saturday – assuming we’re on course – we’ll be a good 10 miles or so from the nearest bit of civilisation.’

James glanced over at Matt, who raised his eyebrows and gave James a half-guilty smile before looking away again.

It was Matt who’d convinced James to come on the trip.

James couldn’t remember exactly where the idea had come from or who’d first suggested it, but one day it seemed to be all their parents were talking about. They thought it’d do the boys good, apparently, and they were keen for them all to go with Mr Stevens. Probably they just wanted them to take a break from sitting in a dark room at Gary’s and playing GTA III on his PS2 all day, James thought.

Either way, he hadn’t been at all keen at first.