‘Gary,’ James puffed. They were at the base of Duck Tor, their third of the day, and James was already out of breath. ‘Do me a… favour… would you… and… fuck off.’

He said it without looking at Gary, without the usual smile he had on his face when Gary was winding him up, and Gary had to restrain the urge to shove him.

‘Alright, fine.’ Gary glanced up and looked around. Mr Stevens was walking with Tim not far behind them, bringing up the rear, and Matt and Tom were about 20 metres or so ahead, making their way up the start of Duck Tor. ‘Don’t get your fucking panties in a twist about it.’

James frowned. ‘I’m just not in the mood for it, Gary.’

‘Fine, walk on your own then.’ Gary lengthened his stride, picking his way through the tussocks and accelerating away along the thin muddy path they’d been following. He could feel the anger welling up inside him.

I ’ m not in the mood for it, Gary.

What kind of a pissy thing to say was that, anyway? That was the sort of shit middle-aged women came out with, wasn’t it? Gary picked up his pace and glanced back over his shoulder. There’d been a light drizzle falling all morning, and on the higher parts of the moor there was a thin fog that made it hard to see too far in front of you. James was already about 20 metres behind him, his chubby hands clutching the shoulder straps of his backpack and his head down as he picked his way slowly and carefully along the path. Gary squinted into the mist but could no longer see Mr Stevens or Tim.

Fuck you, Trumps, he thought. You can walk with the nerd and his retarded fucking son.

Gary picked up his pace even more, relishing the way his thighs burned and blinking away the mingled sweat and drizzle that ran down into his eyes. He could taste salt in his mouth, and he pulled the tube of his Platypus around to take a mouthful of water.

He squinted through the mist and saw Matt and Tom just ahead of him on the path, and put on a burst of speed to catch them up.

‘Alright dickheads,’ he said, pushing through the middle of them. ‘You feeling tired or something?’

They glanced round at him, breathing heavily. Matt looked red in the face, but Tom managed a grin.

‘Not a chance,’ he said. ‘Want me to race you to the top, do you?’

‘Nah, you can babysit these two this time,’ said Gary. ‘I’m gonna scout ahead, but you might want to check on Trumps. Think he’s got his period or something.’

Gary didn’t really give a shit whether they checked on Tramper or not, but he wanted a bit of space to himself. He needed time to think through his plan.