Toby stood outside the terraced house with the red door, cradling the stone against his chest.

Jack and Ollie had egged him on all the way from school, clapping him on the back and whooping.  

“Go on,” Jack said. 

Toby hefted the stone from one hand to the other, trying not to look as though he was stalling. It was not so much a stone as a lump of brick and mortar he’d found on the demolition site of the old library, but it would do. He closed his eyes to imagine it hurtling through the air and cracking the window.