‘C’mon, Jimmy, get your shoes on. We’re going to meet Kit and visit Eli,’ I said after breakfast.

When we reached the stile, Kit was already there.

Jimmy ran towards him, holding up his arms, shouting, ‘My friend.’

Kit lifted him in the air and swung him round. ‘You’re looking great, Jim-boy.’

Jealousy welled up in me again, resenting their obvious ease and affection.

As we began walking towards Eli’s hut, I started to sense that something was wrong. There was no smell of wood-smoke, no sound of Eli whistling, no Sarge barking. And when we reached the glade, it seemed that my instincts had been correct. Not only was the hut locked and deserted, but on the door was pinned a piece of paper. We climbed the steps to read it. Typed in large red capitals, it read:

EVICTION NOTICE

WE HEREBY NOTIFY THAT THESE PREMISES

ARE DEEMED UNSUITABLE FOR OCCUPATION AS A DOMESTIC DWELLING

BY ORDER: HENRY BLACKMAN, TREASURER

WORMLEY PARISH MANAGEMENT COMMITTEE

‘Bloody hell,’ Kit said. ‘He’s done it. Already.’

Jimmy tugged at my hand. ‘Done it?’

‘Don’t worry, Jim-boy. We’re going to stop them.’

‘How stop them?’

‘We’re going to lock ourselves inside the hut, to stop them knocking it down,’ Kit said.

‘Can I come?’

‘No, my love,’ I said. ‘It’s not safe for small boys. Anyway, we need to try and find Eli first. Make sure he’s all right.’

Kit was on tiptoe, peering in through one of the windows.

‘What are you doing, Kit?’

‘Seeing whether he’s taken his things.’

It was then that I remembered seeing Eli hiding his key in the arch of the left-hand wheel.

‘No need.’ The key was still there, and the door unlocked easily. As soon as we stepped inside, its warm, smoky smell brought back all the happy times we’d spent there. All of Eli’s possessions were still neatly in place, the bed quilt straightened, the books on their shelves, the kettle on the hob, carefully cut kindling and old newspapers on top of the logs in the basket. It was as though he’d just stepped out for a few moments. Nothing seemed to have been touched, and this made me even more worried than ever.

‘No fire,’ Jimmy said, peering into the stove. ‘Where Eli?’

‘They said they were moving him to a council house, up on the High Road.’

‘Let’s go and find him,’ Kit said.

I locked the hut and replaced the key carefully, hoping against hope that Eli was safe and would come back soon.

It was a long, sweaty walk up the street to the High Road – at least a mile, and most of it uphill. Then we had to traipse another half-mile to the council houses.