‘That was hard for him,’ Ms Tillman continued. ‘He was proud of his father. When his parents’ marriage failed, he felt betrayed.’

‘Objection. Hearsay. These feelings Caleb had. Allegedly. How can your witness know?’

Ms Tillman coughed. ‘He trusted me.’

‘Sorry, Ms Tillman. What can you tell us about Caleb’s state of mind?’

‘He was distressed. It was obvious in how he looked. Not just how he dressed. How he slouched. He stopped showing me his drawings.’

What was she trying to prove? That Caleb had an excuse for arson? Of course the prosecution made note of this. Caleb felt a new wave of sympathy for Mum. She might be wrong about him but, also, she deserved better. Closing his eyes, Caleb felt trapped. He couldn’t lose his memories even if he wanted to. That day felt more real than the courtroom.

Caleb had fled the house with his sketchbook, headed for Penelope’s home on Setback Mountain Road. How quickly things escalated! He reached the depths of an inferno, a different fire surely, from those baby flames at Damper Creek. Bursts of light like demons or angels shot erratically from earth to sky. Beings of light or of gas, flammable. But flammable wasn’t the word. There wasn’t a word to do justice to these incandescent markers, guardians of this unearthly world, interspersed among other soldiers who had once been fence posts and power poles and now were armies of dwarves and giants marching along the road, led by a giant monster.

It was impossible to tell which direction that monster was coming from. It was everywhere, always prepared to turn and snap. Sneaking up, hunting. Also, like a curtain, a tidal wave of flames. Caleb had to run, to find gaps where air was breathable, to get to Penelope’s house. This might be the chance he hoped for, to redeem himself, for his life to mean something.