Toby and Ayla sat in the shade of the far wall, facing off against Arthur and Summer, huddled under the limestone steps not far from Celeste and Aldo who were, as usual, holding hands with their foreheads pressed together. Zahir and Uzuri had taken the right corner and Brody and Moira the left. Lenka and Matus and Bianca and Cezar were in the centre. The couples whispered conspiratorially and occasionally glowered at their competitors. Around them brothers and sisters glided, quietly watching. Ayla put her hands behind her head. “How can you be so relaxed?” Toby felt the weight of a gaze on him and looked over at Arthur, who turned his head away. Ayla shrugged. “None of this lot have anything on us. Didn’t you hear all the crying earlier? Over a bloody insect or two.” She shook her head. “We’ll be fine.” “Yes, but what about the –” Toby lowered his voice – “things we came for?
