But then Ned determined to go higher still. Above the balcony a rafter ran the width of the room, offering a tempting seat – if you could reach it. Ned climbed, missed his footing and fell, hitting his head on the floor below. Briefly unconscious, he came to and seemed not badly hurt. He was put to bed early. But the next morning, when Matron came in to wake him, he was dead.
Tragic though this story is, what struck me particularly was its timing on the eve of the First World War. In my head I muddled the dates, making Ned a 13 year-old boy who died in 1910. If he’d lived, what were the chances of his – or many of his friends – being alive a few years later?