Grace wiped snot along her pyjama sleeve, sniffed hard, and held up a small marble. White, with a swish of pink.
“This is an alley chink. It’s worth five jaspers. It’s my favourite. I won it from Simon Hill. He stuck it up his nose and had to go to hospital. He was there for hours and needed two nurses and a doctor to pull it out. His mummy cried. His nose was red for ages, and it whistled. Danny Burton called him squeaky Simon.” Grace giggled.
Her granddad sighed. “For the sixth time, go and brush your teeth. It’s bedtime.”