It’s such a steep slope I can’t stop when I get to the bottom. I run across the concrete and, just before I crash into the side of the workshop, Richie throws out an arm to catch me. I swing round and we end up in a sort of cuddle.

Then he holds me by the shoulders, at arm’s length, and swears. A really bad one.

Next thing, my mates are with us, all panting and looking edgy.

Richie glances down the lane. ‘You can’t be here.’

‘No, listen …’ I say.

‘If he comes back …’

I’m scared by how nervous he looks.

‘You don’t know what you’re risking by being here.’ He looks around at us. ‘All of you. Just go home.’

‘Richie!’ I’m practically shouting now. ‘You have to get out of here too. You can come with us. Then we’ll call the police – anonymously, like – and Snook and his gang will get arrested and no one has to know you were involved.’

‘Jase.’ He almost laughs. ‘I’m in this up to my neck!’

‘Tell them the truth then, that Snook forced you. They’ll have to believe you. You’ve never been in trouble before.’

‘It’ll be okay, Richie.’ Jinx turns to Tam and Catrin. ‘Won’t it?’

They nod, looking very serious.

‘Jesus Christ!’ Richie mutters. ‘You stupid, stupid kids.’

I fold my arms. ‘We’re not going without you.’

‘This isn’t a game, Jason, mun, this is real life!’

‘Then why are you messing it up? You’re meant to be the grown-up!’ The last part comes out scratchy and strangled, because I’m trying not to cry.

Tam, Jinx and Catrin move away from us.

‘Listen,’ Richie says, his voice much softer now. ‘I don’t feel any more grown up than you do.’ He runs his hands through his hair. It stays up in scruffy little spikes. He looks down the track again. ‘You can’t be here.’

‘What’s that smell?’ Jinx asks, looking around. ‘It’s a bit smoky.’

‘Snook just had a fag.’ Richie turns away from me. ‘Go home.’

‘It’s not cigarettes,’ Catrin says. ‘It’s sort of chemical.’

‘There’s loads of stuff like that round here.’ He looks behind him, at a pile of oily rags. ‘Just – oh Christ!’

The rags are smouldering.

Before any of us can even think, they go up with a whoosh of flames. We jump back, all except Richie, who runs to the back of the workshop.

What’s he doing?

The flames catch a newspaper hanging over the edge of a workbench, spread to a calendar on the wall. It’s all so fast.

‘Richie!’ I look at the spray cans and oil and – oh God – is that a welder’s gas tank? ‘Get out of there!’

He’s rummaging on a shelf. ‘I’ll be there now!’

‘No!’

A wave of heat flows towards me and hands pull me backwards. Further away from my brother.

‘Someone go and ring the fire brigade!’ I shout.

‘But …’ Jinx splutters. ‘The police will know Richie’s—’

‘For God’s sake! I’d rather have him in jail than dead! Run!’

But Tam’s already gone.

‘Where is it?’ Richie’s voice is full of panic. ‘Where the hell – oh! Got it!’

‘Richie!’ My yell is more like a scream.

He faces us now. But in that half a minute it took for him to find whatever it was, the flames are too high for him to pass.

‘Where’s the fire extinguisher?’ Jinx screeches, looking around desperately.

Richie’s a mixture of fear and rage. ‘There isn’t one! Just get away! Move back!’

Catrin holds on to my arm. Me, her and Jinx stare at the flames and, through them, at Richie backed up against the wall. ‘Tam’ll be at the phone box in no time,’ she whispers. ‘No one could get there faster than him.’

‘It’s all right!’ I shout to Richie. ‘Tam’s gone for help!’

A gust of wind whips around the workshop, swirling smoke and tiny bits of ash towards us. We jump back, coughing.

‘There’s so much in there that’s flammable,’ Jinx splutters.

I turn on him. ‘Shut up! Shut your mouth! He’s going to be okay!’

He blinks. ‘I’m sorry, Jase. I only meant … I … I …’

Richie’s pulling things off the shelving at the back – paint pots and spray cans and cloths. He throws them to the far corner, away from the fire, and goes to the side of the shelving and heaves at it till it falls. He leaps out of the way.

Then I see it, through the flames and the smoke. A doorway! There’s a back door!

‘He’ll be all right,’ Catrin says. ‘He can get out!’

Richie pulls at the handle but nothing happens. He puts one foot against the corrugated-iron wall and jerks and tugs, but the door’s not budging.

He turns back to us, and the look on his face terrifies me. My heart feels like it’s going to explode. My brother is stuck in a burning building with chemicals and gas tanks and petrol.

‘Don’t give up!’ Jinx shouts. ‘Keep pulling!’

Then it comes to me – I run. Around the side of the workshop to the back. The door is rusted shut. The ground around the base of it thick with grass and weeds and piled-up dirt. I hack at it with the heel of my boot, scraping it away.

‘Richie?’ I shout.

Richie coughs. ‘Jason?’

‘You pull, I’ll kick! Ready?’

‘Ready!’

I kick and kick and kick. All my best Bruce Lee moves, all the strength I’ve got. I kick and kick and kick.

I can’t do it, can hardly dent it. I’m not strong enough.

But then the door buckles as it jerks free on one side. Richie’s fingers reach around it and he pulls.

Catrin and Jinx join me, and then Tam’s here. We all put our shoulders to the door and push.

‘Hurry up!’ Richie shouts. He coughs and coughs.

I push even harder. I don’t know how I do it, but I do.

‘The metal’s getting warmer!’ Catrin cries.

Oh God.

We shove like crazy, our feet slipping and skidding on the ground.

‘This isn’t working,’ Tam says, stepping back. ‘Richie! Get out of the way!’

‘What are you doing?’ I yell.

‘All of us … together,’ he pants. ‘One move … like a battering ram. On three.’

Me, Jinx and Catrin step back too.

Tam counts. ‘One … two … three.’

Smash!

The door caves inwards and Richie stumbles out in a haze of smoke. We run to the top of the grassy bank and lie down, panting and heaving and coughing.

‘The fire engine’s on the way,’ Tam says, through gasps. He looks at my brother. ‘You could run away. We’d never tell.’

But Richie shakes his head. ‘It’s over.’

He grabs me and pulls me into a massive cwtch, kissing the top of my head for ages, then resting his cheek on me. ‘And it’s going to be okay. One way or another.’

I nod, which is difficult when you’re squashed in a bear hug, and hold him tight. I sob. Properly sob; screwed-up face, stupid noises. The whole lot. And I don’t even care that Tam and Jinx are here.