I went back to see Jake. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t supposed to, that I could get in more trouble. I had to see him, I needed to check that he was all right, that they’d told me the truth. I waited in the trees outside the playground. My timing was out and I had to wait ten minutes before the yard started to fill up, but then I saw him. There were three of them now: him, Harry and another lad, a new friend, almost as gormless-looking as Harry. The weather had turned and there was a snap in the air, a cold that hadn’t been in the town for months. Jake’s two friends were wearing coats, Jake was only in his jumper, and I wondered if he even had a coat, I’d never seen one, he’d need something for the coming winter. Maybe a teacher would notice. The tree in the corner was still their spot and they headed over there and started to muck around, pushing each other, laughing and chatting. They looked like they were having fun and it was good to see. It was only when the other two ran off and Jake went after them that I noticed his leg. He dragged it along after him slightly, like he couldn’t quite lift it all the way off the ground. It slowed him down, but it didn’t look like it caused him any pain and he appeared to be having as much fun as the others, even if he couldn’t quite keep up. To see him so firmly alive was the best sight I’d ever seen. After I’d watched him for a minute or two I turned to leave. I walked across town to the haunted house but I could see from the road that the police had been at it. There were grilles over the windows and round the back it was just the same: a grille over the door, all the windows covered, no way back in at all.