What with my hair, and the school hoodie … she’s bound to find me.

And did I mention that I’m on my last chance at school? Probably not, actually. It’s a bit of a problem. Well. More than a bit.

Not as much of a problem, though, as what is inside the bag I stole. But I only find that out later.

Chapter 9

Tynemouth is a jumble of houses, big and small, old and new, its streets connected by a warren of back lanes crammed with bins and parked cars.

I’ve emerged at the end of the street that leads to our tiny terraced house, clutching the paper bag, and I’m thinking, I’ll just dump the bag in the recycling bin on our street.

It’s stolen goods, right? Only I’m not a thief. I haven’t even had a proper look at what’s inside, and Kez Becker ran away at the first sign of trouble, so if I just casually drop the bag here, in the bin, without even knowing what it is, then no one will know and everything will be fine, won’t it?

‘What you got there, Malky?’

Dammit: Sebastian. Just my luck. Half a minute either way and I’d have missed him. Less, in fact. Mam has just started to let him walk back on his own from his friend Hassan’s house a few doors down, and he’s swaggering along the pavement, hands in his pockets, like he flippin’ owns it.

He’s seven.

Well, what would you do?

‘Oh, this?’ I say, looking a bit like I didn’t know I was carrying a bashed-up paper bag. ‘It’s, erm … not mine. I, erm … found it. I was just about to throw it away.’

Seb just stands there, blinking rapidly at me, trying to work out whether I am lying. Most of his experience will tell him that I probably am. I am his big brother, after all, and telling lies to younger siblings is one of the few privileges we have.

‘You found it? Where? What is it? And why were you going to chuck it if you’ve just found it?’ Sebastian has a nose for a dodgy story, despite his age. He tries to look inside the bag, but I hold it closer to my chest, and silently wince as it rubs against my scraped and bleeding skin. At least the bag conceals the bloodstains on my T-shirt.

Seb reaches into the bag and starts to pick at the box inside, which is sealed with tape. Suddenly I feel very jealous: I want to be the one to discover what I’ve been stealing-not-stealing. I snatch it away from him.

‘Leave it alone, you little pest!’

‘Did you nick it? You did, didn’t you? What is it? Who’d you nick it from? Tell me or I’m telling Mam.’

Aaaagh! It’s like he’s got some sixth sense.