She knows it.

But he's not a grown-up, not really. He doesn't look like one. Not like most of them, anyway. He's got a cap on. And he doesn't sit like a grown-up, they don't sit like that.

Her name is Maria Stanczyk, the surname is Polish. She's from Poland, or rather, her mum and dad are. She's from Mariefred.

She's got two sisters, Diana and Izabella. They are both older than she is, practically married. They don't live at home any longer. She misses them, it used to be good having two sisters around. She's alone with Mum and Dad now, it's like they've only got her to worry about, and they keep asking where she's off to and who she's seeing and when she'll be back home.

They shouldn't fuss so. She is nine, after all.

The brunette speaks for them both. Her long hair is tied back with a pink ribbon. She sounds quite bossy, foreign too. She's got attitude. She's looking down her nose at the blonde, who's a bit tubby. The brunette makes the decisions, he realises that, feels it.

'I don't believe it. You're too young. What's so important you've got to be out at this time?'

He likes the slightly plump blonde best. Her eyes have a sneaky look. Eyes with a look he's seen before. By now she dares, she steals a glance at her dark-haired friend, then at him.

'Actually, we've been training.'

Maria keeps talking, always. She fancies herself. She's the one who says what they think.

But it's her turn now. She wants to say something too.

This guy isn't dangerous. Not angry or rough or anything. His cap's nice, just like Marwin's.

Marwin is her big brother. She's called Ida. She knows why, it's because Marwin was so keen on that book about Emil and Ida. So her mum and dad figured her name should be Ida. It's ugly. She thinks it's horrid. Sandra is nicer. Or Isidora. Imagine being called Ida. It's like, you're the one they play silly tricks on, perching you on top of a flagpole. Stuff like that.