O great computer! (Mars)

Head buzzing with new alignments and new possibilities for success, feet itchy for the Durrington Down road, a torch and some biscuits in his rucksack, he practically fell down the stairs—two, then three, then a final four steps at a time—and was reaching out for the front door when his mum called from the front room.

"Rhys! Come in here a sec!"

He lowered his outstretched arm, looking at the handle as if it were receding irretrievably from his grasp, breathed heavily a couple of times and then trudged back down the hallway towards his mum's voice. He saw his dad first, sat in the armchair, holding a mug of tea, smiling thinly. As he stepped into the room Rhys could smell cigarette smoke, which meant that his mum must be really nervous. She never smoked indoors, except when she did, which was usually when Rhys had been in trouble. He hadn't been caught doing anything wrong recently, though.

"We've got some news. Your dad's got that new job at Penny's—you know, the one he went to the interview for last month?" Rhys tried to looked blank but vaguely interested. He remembered his dad had set off early one morning to catch a train from Salisbury station, but hadn't really paid much attention to where he had said he was going to. "Well, they really want him to start as soon as possible, which is great, isn't it?" She started talking to his dad. "Especially with Moreton Electrics looking like it could close any day now."

"They'll want me to work out my notice, will Moreton, love," he warned. "At least a month."

"Well," she countered, "it'll take us longer than that to-" She suddenly turned back to Rhys. He had a knack for receding into the background, she noted: it was easy to forget he was there sometimes, and he her only son! "Sorry, Rhys, love, we were trying to tell you. Penny's is up in Worcester. That's a long way from here, nearly a hundred miles." Rhys' face was still calm. "He can't do that commute every day, love." Rhys nodded, waiting for more information. "We're going to have to move to Worcester."

It was at that point that Rhys' face started to move. First his eyes widened. "We know you love it round here, darlin'," his mum continued. "But we thought that it might be better for you to have a change of scene." Rhys' mouth opened slackly. "It's not healthy for you, going out at all hours. There was that trouble with the police as well. It'd be good to put all that behind you. And you'd be able to make lots more friends in Worcester. It's a lovely town, isn't it, Dad?" His dad agreed, nodding his head; Rhys regained control over his face and started to screw it up instead, into a single frown. "It's got cinemas, and a bowling alley. And there's a good college there that we reckon you'll get into if we all pitch in a bit."

Rhys was once again stationary, apart from his right hand which shook a little. "Well," his mother said after twenty seconds had passed in silence. "Don't just stand there with a look like thunder, love. Say something."

Rhys looked from his mum to his dad, and back again. He worked his mouth for a second or two, trying to form words. Then, finally, he could speak. "No," Rhys mumbled quietly. Then, louder: "No. No! No!" Still shouting, he bolted from the room and out of the front door, not caring to close it behind him.

Back in the living room, Rhys' dad had left the chair and was making to follow his son, when his mum put her hand out to him. "Leave it, Paul. He'll be all right."

"At this time of night?" his dad cried. "It's pitch black out there and bloody freezing to boot. He'll catch his death." But instead of putting his shoes on, he stomped around the living room, knowing his son was hardier than that. "And where the hell does he think he's going to get to any-bloody-way?"

Rhys' mum sat down on the settee and sighed. "Where do you think, love?" she said wearily, and fished a packet of cigarettes out of her handbag. "He'll go straight to the stones."