For the first half hour of our protest, we were basically invisible. But then things changed.

First of all, the butcher came out. Someone must have told him we were chained up and protesting against his shop, because he was suddenly in our faces and not happy.

‘What the blankety hell do you kids think you’re doing?’ he yelled.

‘Don’t you blankety swear at these blankety children,’ yelled Grandad. ‘They are doing what is only fair and reasonable – protesting about how you get your meat from an abattoir that treats animals cruelly. How the steaks and sausages you sell were once living creatures whose throats were cut, without anaesthetic, without even being stunned properly. YOU ARE MAKING A LIVING OUT OF SUFFERING.’

The butcher glanced around. Most passers-by had stopped to listen. It obviously occurred to him that this was not the best publicity for his shop, because he lowered his voice and took a step towards Grandad.

‘Look, mate,’ he muttered. ‘I don’t have any choice where I get my meat from. There’s only one abattoir around here and …’

‘No excuses,’ said Pop. He raised his voice even more. ‘Go back to your shop and keep your inhumane trade going. There’s blood on your hands, mate. There’s BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS!’

The butcher glanced down.

‘Of course there is,’ he said. ‘I’m a butcher.’

‘HE ADMITS IT,’ yelled Grandad.

‘I’m calling the police,’ said the butcher. He started backing away towards his shop.

‘HE’S CALLING THE POLICE ON THESE CHILDREN WHO ARE ONLY TRYING TO PROTECT INNOCENT ANIMALS!’

A few members of the crowd snarled at the guy as he scuttled out of sight. I almost felt sorry for him.

‘I need a wee, Andrew,’ I said. I reckoned I could get home and back in no more than fifteen minutes. ‘Give Grandad the keys to the padlocks.’

‘What keys?’ said Andrew.

‘Tell me you brought keys as well as padlocks.’

‘No. Chains and padlocks. That’s all we discussed.’

‘Oh, great,’ I said. I tried to clench my legs together but, what with the chains, it was difficult.

*

Grandad ambled off around two o’clock to get himself a vegetable pie. I was really thirsty but my bladder didn’t need anything else. I was hungry as well, but I didn’t want to tempt fate, so I turned down his offer to get me something to eat or drink

‘Wanna fight?’ came a familiar voice. ‘C’mon, Fitzgerald. Man up. Or has the cat got yer tongue?’

It was possible Daniel Smith had been watching for the last hour, waiting for his chance, because Grandad had been gone no longer than two minutes.

‘How can I fight you, Daniel?’ I said. ‘I’m chained to a railing.’

‘Always an excuse not to man up,’ said Daniel. ‘I should kick your head in right now.’

‘Do that,’ said Andrew, ‘and you’ll regret it the rest of your life. All ten minutes of it.’

‘Hello, Daniel Smith,’ said Miss Pritchett.

‘Oh God,’ said Daniel.

‘Miss?’ I said. ‘Is there any truth in the rumour you’re a superhero with powers beyond the dreams of mortals?’

Miss Pritchett read the placards.

‘I should, to be fair,’ she said, ‘tell you the principal is having a cup of tea and an iced bun in a cafe just down the road. I suspect she’ll stumble across you in less than half an hour, and you know what she thinks about bringing our school into disrepute.’

‘We can’t go yet, Miss,’ I said. ‘The reporter hasn’t turned up.’

‘And we’re protesting about animal cruelty,’ Andrew added. ‘How is that bringing the school into disrepute?’

‘Ah,’ said Miss Pritchett. ‘You might think that’s a good and noble thing to do. I might think it’s a good and noble thing to do. But that’s not to say everyone will see it that way …’

Good and noble …