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A few minutes later, Jake and I were in
the car park fighting over who was going to
give who a leg up into the skip.
“Tell you what,” I said, “whoever gets it
can have it. Er, if it’s worth having.”
Jake was okay with that idea and we both
pulled ourselves up the side of the skip.
Jake was in first, but he caught the knee of
his school trousers on some rusty bit of
metal.
“Ouch!”
Meanwhile I was sitting on the edge
looking for the shiny box.
“I can only see rubbish,” I said, peering at
a jumble of old ornaments, plant pots and
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