They got worse from there. Down this can in one. Smash the window in the bus stop. Set fire to the bin. Nothing stopped them. Connor’s turn – take a punch in the face. Nothing he hadn’t experienced in the past – and Lee’s blow was feeble, barely bruising his cheek. He rubbed it as he sat down, enjoying the gleeful cheers from the boys.

He felt accepted. He was one of them.

The storm was fiercer now. The wind whipped the trees into a frenzy, rain so hard it blew into the shelter, soaking their clothes. And then Connor saw him. He’d seen him around, the homeless guy. Sometimes, during the quiet moments, the man would make his way up to the railway station and Barry would welcome him into the café, sitting him down with a sausage sandwich and a cup of tea. He was always quiet, always polite. Connor couldn’t believe he was out in this weather.

He passed the bus shelter where they were all sat, and Mark shouted to him.

‘We in your house, mate?’ he taunted. ‘Come and say hello.’

The man went to turn, but Mark walked out and took him by the hand.

‘Hey, mate,’ he said, pulling harder. ‘Let’s find you a bed for the night.’

The homeless guy tried to pull away, but Mark held fast. ‘Come on, guys,’ he directed to Connor and the other two. ‘It’s my dare. And I say we find this guy somewhere to sleep.’

Tyler and Lee leapt to their feet, and the three of them pulled their hoods up, surrounding the homeless guy. They pushed and cajoled the man across the road and up the track leading to the station.

Connor watched them, unsure. This was more than a bare bum towards a car. He had a bad feeling about it all.

Then Mark called back. ‘Come on, Connor. You’re one of us now.’

And Connor followed them.

With an increasing sense of horror, he saw the freezer in the lay-by, the white almost glowing against the darkness. It had been there since Sunday night; Barry had cursed loudly when it had been dumped. And through the darkness and the pouring rain, Connor watched.

He did nothing as they dragged the man towards it.

He did nothing as Mark opened the lid.

He did nothing as he listened to the man protest, his shouts of anger, almost drowned out by the cackle and the laughter from the boys.

He did nothing as they forced the man inside, closed and sat on the lid, drumming their feet against the sides. Tyler stood up and danced a mocking jig on the top, the rain soaking him to the skin.

He did nothing as the rain fell and the wind howled.

And the man suffocated inside.

Once the boys grew bored, they climbed off the freezer and opened the lid. And he was dead.