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best flowery plates from her dresser, placed the banana in its centre and presented it on a small round table in front of the window.
    â€˜Let us have a look!’ shouted Gwyn Williams, shoving me to one side. Gwyn was a year older than me, taller and broader. He had a squashed-in face, as if someone had pressed him into a flat tin. He elbowed Ade out of his way and raised his hands to cup his eyes against the pane. ‘I’m going to try and eat that banana,’ he said. ‘See if I don’t.’
    â€˜Don’t be daft,’ responded Ade, trying to push his way back to the window. ‘Mrs Reece doesn’t even know how to eat it. Maybe you can’t eat it? Maybe bananas are German tricks?’
    â€˜Did a German give Mrs Reece that banana?’ said Gwyn, turning to stare at Ade.
    Ade screwed up his nose. He was on unsure ground, but Gwyn was turning nasty and he had to show no weakness.
    â€˜Don’t be daft, man. There’s no Germans in Treherbert.’
    A tight fist popped across Ade’s nose, sending him sprawling. ‘Call me daft, is it? I’ll show you how daft I am. Get up!’
    I bent down to help Ade to his feet. A small drop of blood fell from the tip of his nose, and he rolled his hand into the sleeve of his jumper to wipe it away. His eyes were watering and I could tell he was trying hard not to cry.
    â€˜You didn’t have to hit him,’ I said, ‘he’s half your size.’
    Gwyn’s knuckles crunched across my cheek and I fell down on one knee. Without looking up, I dived towards Gwyn’s knees and tackled him backwards.
    â€˜Fight!’ I heard Bronwyn yell.
    Fists pummelled into my side, sending a sharp pain ricocheting up my spine. I cried out but held on, kicking down on his ankle in an effort to push myself upwards. My wellingtons scrabbled backwards on the cobbles, but they were wet and I couldn’t get a grip. As I slid away, a fat knee came sharp and upwards into my belly. I doubled up, the wind knocked out of me, and as I rolled into the kerb, I felt another fist land on my left side. I looked up into a tight circle of faces.
    â€˜Get up, Ant!’ I heard Ade yelling.
    Gwyn loomed downwards, I felt my shirt collars being grabbed, and I was hauled upwards. I saw his arm go back but as it did, I swung my right arm and jabbed it forward, catching him on the nose. He reeled away, clutching his face.
    â€˜Leg it!’ shouted Ade. ‘He’ll kill you!’
    But the circle was too tight. There was no escape route. Spitting blood out from his mouth, Gwyn came for me again, his face scowling with fury. My back tumbled against gathered bodies, and Gwyn came in, both fists pummelling, and then, with one fulsome punch, he had me down.
    My head hit the cobbles and the world spun away, the taste of clinkers filling my mouth. Everything went quiet and, for a moment, I was utterly at peace, deep and lost, and then a voice, familiar and anxious, floated somewhere above me. ‘You’ve killed him. You’ve killed Ant.’
    I felt hands pulling me up, there was a smell I knew but couldn’t place, and then I opened my eyes and saw my sister Bethan. She was pushing hair from my eyes. ‘Are you all right, Ant?’ she said, peering down at me.
    â€˜Dunno,’ I said, tasting a tang of blood.
    â€˜Bugger off, Gwyn Williams,’ she turned and yelled. ‘If you want a fight, you can have one with me!’ I raised my head and narrowed one eye. I could see the back of Gwyn Williams sparking off up Scott Street.
    â€˜He was sticking up for me,’ said Ade, leaning in to take a look. ‘Gwyn Williams punched me first. Look …’ He stuck an index finger up his nostril, pulled it out and showed Bethan. There was blood on the end of it.
    â€˜You shouldn’t hang round him,’ Bethan answered. ‘You know what he’s like.’
    â€˜Is Ant going to die?’
    â€˜No,’