‘We must be,’ said Tilsner in a confident voice. ‘I told you, I was about to start the descent anyway. We’ll just be going down a little more quickly than before.’

The children didn’t seem to fully understand the conversation. To them, this was all probably like a dream. Normally, they would be safely in bed at the school – although Müller knew in a few years’ time, it would be far from safe for them. She just hoped that the children’s dream wasn’t about to turn into a nightmare.

There was no real sense that they were descending, but Tilsner assured her they were. ‘It won’t be long now. When I give the word, brace yourself and the kids. Get them to hold their arms over the back of their heads, like they show you in those aircraft safety demonstrations.’

Müller sat down with the children in the basket, curling herself into a ball, and getting Johannes and Jannika to do the same. She glanced up, and saw Tilsner standing upright still, watching for where they would be landing, but unable to exert any control on their home-made flying machine.

‘Right, we’re landing in trees, I’m afraid,’ he shouted. ‘It’s going to be bumpy! Brace!’

As he yelled the word, he ducked down with them. They all huddled together as they heard and felt the first crack and crash of wood splitting, then another, a third, one side of the basket splitting away so the adults and children were clinging to the remainder for dear life as they fell in jerks and judders.

Then a final thud reverberated through the whole basket, and Müller was tossed to one side.

Then silence, save for the soft sound of the remaining balloon material nestling down on top of them.

Jannika and Johannes both started yelling and crying. ‘Shh,’ hushed Müller. ‘You’re OK,’ she soothed, but she didn’t really know if they were.

‘Is everyone all right?’ asked Tilsner.

‘I think so,’ replied Müller, gingerly stretching herself, then getting to her feet. Up above, she could see the remains of balloon material clinging to some of the tree branches. Other boughs had been ripped off as the basket plunged to earth.

She pulled the twins to their feet. They clung to her waist. ‘Are you two OK, my darlings?’ she asked. But she could feel from the strength of their hugs, and the fact that they’d both stood up without problems, that they were.

Tilsner was on his feet now, too. Looking up through the trees in wonder. ‘Blimey. I know I was trying to sound confident, but that was a lucky escape.’

‘But we’ve made it,’ said Müller. She hugged her deputy and sometime lover, thinking at that moment there was no one – other than her children – she would rather be with. They’d been through a lot together.

Far too much.