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going, though.’
    ‘But Gil . . .’
    Louis’ expression was so serious that Gil nearly burst with laughter. Louis was so short and skinny, such a kid . But he’d been going into town on his own for ages. And he had
a mobile phone, of course. It really didn’t seem fair. And now here he was, looking up at Gil as if Gil was the one who needed protection.
    ‘What about when your mum and dad find out? Your dad’ll go crazy, won’t he?’
    ‘I couldn’t care less,’ Gil said. ‘Bring it on.’
    ‘I really think you should let me come with you,’ said Louis. ‘Then maybe you won’t get into so much trouble.’
    ‘ Get into so much trouble! ’ mimicked Gil. ‘Oooh, I’m so scared!’
    ‘Shut up,’ said Louis. ‘I’m just trying to help.’
    ‘Yeah, well, don’t. You’re being a pain in the butt.’
    ‘I am not !’
    ‘Yes you are.’
    ‘Fine. Go on your own.’
    ‘Yeah, I will. Have fun with that retard Ben.’
    ‘So what am I supposed to say if your mum calls our house to see if you’re there?’
    ‘You can tell her what you like. I don’t care.’
    ‘OK.’ Louis shrugged. ‘But when it all goes wrong, remember I told you it was a bad idea.’
    ‘Stop telling me what to do,’ Gil said. ‘You’re as bad as my parents.’
    He walked away to the bus stop, and Louis didn’t follow.

When Gil got round to counting the money in his wallet he was disappointed to find there was hardly anything in it. He’d already managed to spend most of the five pounds
that Mum had given him, and once he’d paid the bus fare and put aside enough to get home later he had less than ten pounds left. And without money, town wasn’t nearly as much fun as
he’d expected.
    He wandered past the shops, feeling the blast of warm air and music that poured out of each doorway. He browsed computer games for a while, but there wasn’t enough cash to buy even the
second-hand ones. His plans for buying a secret mobile phone evaporated. He had money for a McDonald’s – Dad really disapproved of McDonald’s – but after standing outside
for ten minutes trying to decide what to have he realised he just didn’t fancy a burger or fries or even a McFlurry.
    Suddenly, when he could do anything he wanted, there wasn’t anything he really wanted to do. It was all a bit of a let-down. Now it looked as if he would get into big trouble for something
that didn’t even feel like a proper rebellion.
    Well before it began to get dark, Gil found himself back at the bus stop. It stood near a small scrubby park with two fairly big trees, some patchy grass and a bench or two. It was a place where
alcoholics and drug addicts crept into corners in the hope the police wouldn’t spot them.
    This was as exciting as it was going to get, Gil thought, looking around him. He was on his own, standing next to a park occupied by drinkers and druggies. Dad would go mad if he knew. There
were even a couple of policemen hovering in a side street.
    It was then that Gil spotted a man in one of the two big trees.
    Gil stared up at him. The man didn’t seem to be climbing the tree, or lopping off branches with a chainsaw, or anything sensible like that. He just looked as if he was relaxing. Lounging,
even. He was lying on a big sloping branch about three metres above the ground, with a hand tucked under his head, gazing up at the sky.
    What on earth was he doing?
    There was a hammock slung above his head, and Gil could see other objects hanging from the bare branches – a saucepan, a bucket, a rucksack, clothes that swung in the breeze as if they
were hung out to dry. He wandered closer to get a better look. There were some placards propped up at the base of the tree. Trees are the lungs of the world, said one. Save our green
spaces, said another. Free the trees. Gil lifted a leg to step over the low wall that surrounded the park.
    ‘You can’t go in there,’ said a voice suddenly. One of the policemen had crept up on him.
    ‘Why