‘Gravy? You paying attention?’

‘Yes.’

‘You need to pay attention.’

‘Yes, Benjy.’

‘I need to hide somewhere. How about your boss’s hut?’

‘Did he say it was all right?’

‘Sure he did. I just spoke to him.’

‘That’s fine, then.’

‘Is it locked?’

‘He always locks it.’

‘But you’ve got a key?’

I shook my head. I used to have a key, but then my boss found me sleeping in the hut one morning. I’d been there all night. It was so peaceful and quiet. Benjy was making a hissing sound. Then he started coughing, and the spit that came out of his mouth was pink, like he’d been eating sweets. He tried wiping it away again, but the bag was too heavy.

‘I need to hide,’ he repeated.

‘Didn’t he give you the key?’

‘No.’

‘That’s a shame.’ I thought for a moment. ‘How about hiding behind the hedge?’ I pointed to it. That’s where the bonfires happen. It’s where the compost is kept. And the digger. Not a big digger, but big enough for a hole six feet deep.

Benjy didn’t seem to be listening. He fell to his knees and I thought maybe he was going to pray. ‘Tired,’ was all he said.

‘Yes,’ I told him. ‘You must be.’

He managed to look up at me. ‘Nothing gets past you, Gravy.’ Then he shoved the bag forward. It was sitting on the ground in front of him. ‘Hide this for me.’

‘Sure. Will you be wanting it back?’

‘Not a chance.’ His head slumped forward again. I could see his chest and shoulders rise and fall. He really was tired, so I left him there and tiptoed to a different part of the graveyard, and did some more raking.

It was almost dark by the time I got back to him. My wheelbarrow was empty. I’d left it with the rake next to the digger. I kept my gloves with me. They would go home with me. They were good gloves.