The dog has made a late start, and has followed me, growling, as I wrench open the door to the alleyway. Dennis is coming for me and I only mean to shut the door to keep him in, but I pull it really hard and something is stopping it, so I pull still harder, and that’s when I hear a crack and a howl of pain. I look down and, horrified, I see that I have trapped the dog’s front paw, and one of his claws is bent at a horrible angle.

Immediately, I let go of the door, which springs open again, but I can’t stop. Dennis doesn’t stop, either, and limps after me, barking and snarling and trailing drops of blood. I run down the back lane, clutching the paper bag under my hoodie. I’ve run about twenty metres when I realise that the dog is gaining on me in spite of its injury.

Kez is nowhere to be seen. (I find out later that she legged it the minute she heard the back door to the house open. ‘Test of courage.’ Yeah, right.) She’s still got my phone.

I look behind me. A woman has followed the dog out of the backyard and is coming after me. ‘Hey! Stop! You little—’ she swears at me.

There’s a bend in the lane that takes me out of sight of my pursuers for a moment, and, while I’m running, I unzip my hoodie and chuck the bag I’m holding as hard as I can over the wall. It is evidence of my crime, and I want rid of it. It sails through the air and I hear it land. Still, Dennis is getting closer, probably seeking revenge for his injury, and I know I won’t be able to outrun him. I get to a pair of big wheelie bins and clamber on top of them. On the other side of the wall is a garden belonging to a house that’s been empty for ages, so I grip the top of the wall and haul myself over.

It’s a long drop on the other side. My T-shirt and hoodie ride up and I scrape my belly and chest hard as I lower myself down behind a big bush. On the other side of the wall, the dog is barking and its owner has caught up with it. ‘Where’s he gone, the little toerag? Oh my God, Dennis, you poor thing, you poor thing!’ Then she says something that makes my stomach turn over with fear. ‘We’ll find him, won’t we?’

They’ll find me?

I try to push my fear down.

There are loads of blond kids.

The evening’s getting darker.

She can’t have seen that I’ve stolen anything because there was nothing in my hands – it was inside my hoodie.

She’ll not do anything …