For a blissful few seconds Tom had forgotten about everything, but the thought of his so-called friend’s name brought all the worries – which had been nagging at him pretty much constantly ever since he’d punched Gary in the face the day before – back to the front of his mind.

He knew guys like Gary – there were more than a few on the football team at school and at the Sunday five-a-side club Tom was a part of – and he knew they could be incredibly stubborn. Gary was arrogant, jealous and bitter, and Tom thought it would be a long time before he came around.

Tom had tried talking to him yesterday afternoon, and Gary had blanked him.

But he hadn’t done anything wrong, had he?

James had thanked him afterwards and Matt, although he hadn’t said much about it, had nodded when Tramper told Tom he’d done the right thing. He’d been sticking up for a friend, after all, stopping a bully who’d been allowed to get away with things for too long.

So why did he feel so shit about himself?

Tom unzipped his sleeping bag and sat up. He decided he’d go outside and get some fresh air, maybe take a short walk around the campsite. That’d help clear his head. Being as quiet as he possibly could and stealing the occasional glance at Tramper to make sure he wasn’t disturbing him, Tom slipped on his walking trousers and a t-shirt and then laced up his boots.

He unzipped the tent flaps and stepped outside.

The first thing that struck him was how nice a morning it was. The fog and drizzle that had hung over Rutmoor since they arrived had vanished and been replaced by a mostly clear sky; there were still clumps of grey cloud on the horizon, but the patch directly above their campsite was a bright blue.

Tom closed his eyes and stretched. The light breeze felt nice on his skin.

Glancing around the campsite, he saw no sign of anyone else. The tents looked quiet and undisturbed, and their little campfire was exactly as it had been left the night before.

Tom did a slow 180-degree turn, taking in his surroundings. They were in a rock-strewn valley between two tors, and aside from a small copse of trees about 50 metres ahead of him, there wasn’t very much to look at.

New day, thought Tom. I’ll make a special effort with Gary, maybe take him to one side and say I’m sorry and I was being a dick. Things will work out.