“Oh dear, oh dear,” gasps Hern. Hurriedly, he starts to push me and my mother out of the way.

A shot rings out. Another. A woman falls. A man staggers and somebody screams. People are running in all directions. I grab my mother’s arm, trying to drag her away. But she breaks free of my grasp.

“Jorzy,” she screams and, with raised fists, runs directly at Mr White.

The officer is pulling something out of his jacket when she collides with him, fists flailing. She manages to swing a punch into his face, breaking his nose. Blood spurts down his face. Then he has her arm twisted up her back and holds a pistol to her head.

One shot, and she crumples to the ground. It’s as swift and brutal as slaughtering a beast.

No! It’s like I’ve been hit in the guts.

For some reason Hern is shoving and pushing at me.

“Move, move, that’s a boy, nothing we can do now–”

Tears fill my eyes, so I can’t see. I’m struggling for air. My mother!

Hern keeps pushing at me and I hit out with my fists. I have to go to Ma! She’s lying on the ground; she might still be alive. I have to help her. “Get off me!” I shout. Except the little man keeps getting in the way, shoving and pushing me away from the House of Law and out of the square.

Falling to my knees, I gasp for air and a strange rasping noise comes out of me.

Hern grabs my jacket and hauls me up. Even in my distress I’m surprised that such a small man is so strong. Soon he’s got me out of the gates and we’re running, Hern pulling me along. Behind us, the tumult of screaming and gunfire continues. Although I’m in shock, the streetwise part of me still has some idea where we’re heading. Off to the left. Into an alleyway. Through a courtyard. It’s quieter now we’re away from the House of Law. Across a street.

A cobble catches my toe and I stagger, sobbing.

“Not here,” gasps the little man, urging me on.

An alleyway. A courtyard. A park. Trees.

And finally, finally Hern lets me collapse sobbing to the ground, head in my arms, my face buried in the grass, but I can still see my mother being shot in front of me every time I shut my eyes.

Eventually – it might be minutes or hours – I take a shuddery breath and raise my head. Hern is sitting on the grass nearby. There are thin trees all around with pale, dappled trunks. As I slowly regain some kind of equilibrium, I’m surprised to recognise the park near Emee’s house, the park where I kissed her under the trees. But it’s no comfort. All that is a world away now, and there’s no going back.

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