Richard counted out his pennies carefully and stood on his tiptoes to place them on the shop counter. It was the first pocket money he’d been given in weeks and he’d spent a deliciously long time picking out each individual sweet. The shop bell clanged as he closed the door behind him and he hurried back down the road clutching the tiny bag in his sweaty hand, a greasy layer of sugar already staining the paper. He lifted the bag to his freckled nose and inhaled deeply, savouring the delectable, sweet smell. Nothing could ruin this glorious, autumn afternoon. Nothing.