Arthur and his cousin

On Friday afternoon, Arthur tidied his room in record time. Cars in the blue crate, books on the shelf, soft toys on the bed. He kept back only his fire engine, a real red one with a ladder that unfolds and a siren that went "nee-naw" when you pressed the roof. Then he went and slid it under the bed, all the way to the back, behind a shoebox.

Nathan arrived at six o'clock with a backpack and a grin. He was Arthur's cousin, he was seven, same as Arthur, and they hadn't seen each other since Christmas. Nathan dropped his bag on the mattress that had been set up on the floor and looked around. "You've got so much stuff! Do you have any fire engines?" "No," Arthur lied. "Just cars."

They played with the cars. Nathan made a racetrack out of books. Arthur built a garage from blocks. It was fun, but it wasn't as fun as usual. Arthur had something heavy in his stomach, like a knot, and he wasn't sure where it came from.

That evening, after the bath, Nathan flopped onto the mattress and stretched an arm under the bed to look for his sock. His hand touched something cold and smooth. "What's this?" He pulled. A red fire engine came out of the dust, its ladder folded. The two boys looked at each other.

"That's mine," said Arthur. "I know." "I didn't want it to get broken." "I wouldn't have broken it." "I know." Arthur went quiet. The knot in his stomach had grown huge. "It's my favourite," he said. "Then I'll just look at it," said Nathan. "If you want."

Arthur took the fire engine. He pressed the roof. Nee-naw, nee-naw, went the siren, a little too loud for the hour, and they burst out laughing at the same time. "Do you want to drive it?" asked Arthur. "But not on the stairs." Nathan took it in both hands, like an egg. He unfolded the ladder, slowly, all the way. Click.

"There's a cat stuck up there!" said Nathan, pointing at the shelf. "Then I'm climbing up!" Arthur threw a balled-up sock onto the shelf, and the sock became the cat. Nathan held the ladder, Arthur climbed. They rescued the cat twice, then a third time with a blanket so it could land softly.

Dad poked his head around the door, but he saw the fire engine, the sock, the shelf, and closed it again without a word. The boys put the fire engine away together in the blue crate, ladder folded, right next to the bed. Arthur turned off the light. In the dark, Nathan's breathing slowed on the mattress. Arthur watched the ceiling for a while, and the knot in his stomach had come undone without his noticing. He stretched out a hand in the dark and touched the edge of the mattress. "Good night, Nathan." A sleepy voice answered: "Nee-naw."