The evening outside is glorious, one of the last of the summer days. Birds are making a racket in the trees, roosting for the night. In the shed, dust motes hang in a shaft of light.

I’ve got no idea of the time. I’ve got no plan. I just know I have to wait for darkness to fall, then I’ll make my move. Then I’ll go and find Jorzy. Then I’ll go home and face up to Nanna. If I don’t find Jorzy, there’ll only be the three of us from now on and it gives me a sad ache. Sirens flare in the distance. Then I notice noises … lights and activity, coming from the house. Something is happening.

I get up and peer out the window.

I can’t see the terrace from the shed, but I can hear the sounds of a scuffle. Raised voices. Pistol in hand, I hurry out of the shed, skirting around to the back where there’s a view of the terrace yet where I can still remain hidden.

What I see is astounding. Boss is grappling with the Director. A Black Mark officer is at the tall doors, hands outstretched. Other men, behind him, are jostling to get outside, except the officer is holding them back. White faces peer from the upper-storey windows. Boss holds the Director, as if embracing him from behind. A glint of steel catches the light. Oh gods, Boss is holding a knife to the Director’s throat.

“Come now,” the Director says, his voice carrying clearly across the lawn. And you have to give the man credit, he is cool-headed. “Valerie, my friend, put down the knife and let’s talk about this–”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Boss roars.

The Director jerks in his arms like a puppet, then quickly composes himself. One of the Black Marks has to be held back from rushing down to them. I crouch low behind a bush. It’s like watching a play being acted out.

“Come, Valerie, haven’t we always been friends?”

Boss’s face is wet with tears. “My sister,” he whimpers.

My hand grips the pistol, thinking I’ll have to step in and finish the job. I can see Black Marks edging closer, signalling to each other. Any more weakness from Boss and they’ll be on him, as quick as that.

“What about your sister, Valerie? Perhaps I can help.” The Director’s voice is creamy smooth. You wouldn’t think the man is in any danger at all. Yet from my angle I can see his gaze is fixed on the senior officer, who stands on the steps, hand on the pistol in his belt. One nod from the Director and it will all be over.

“Help?” Boss gives a wild laugh. “When have you ever helped any of us? You hate us.”