It was night when the train arrived. The slow clack of its wheels bouncing along the track was like a countdown timer. I peered both ways from our little hideout in the grass.

‘No one’s watching.’

The face of Mahdi, the eldest son, appeared beside me. A wild grin showed on his white teeth. ‘Let’s go then.’

He ran over to the open sided carriage that was just stopping in front of us. Hundreds of logs were stacked on it, but the steel beams that held them in place gave a narrow shelf to sit on.

Ayamin grabbed my hand and the two of us ran to join him while the grandfather was wheeled over by Mahdi’s younger brother.

On the other side of the rails was the dull sound of wood being dropped onto the train. They were filling up the bays fast.

The grandfather was pushed onto the carriage by his two sons, then they helped Grandma climb on. Just as the train gave a blow of its horn Ayamin and the rest of the family piled on. The kids scrambled up the railing like monkeys. I gazed both directions down the railway line, making sure we hadn’t been spotted before stepping onto the metal railing and climbing aboard.

‘Get back, get hidden,’ Mahdi whisper-shouted to us, ‘Someone’s checking the chains.’

We pressed our backs against the logs, and two of the children held their hands over their eyes. The rattling of chains was distant at first but got closer and closer. Chi-ching, chi-ching, chi-ching…

At the back of the train, someone began shouting in Macedonian.

The man who’d been rattling the chains shouted back and then broke into a jog. I held my breath as he passed us by, his eyes focussed on the end of the train.

We heard the two men talking and then some sort a decision must’ve been reached because the crunch of their footsteps moved back towards the station.

With a jerk, the train began to move off and next to me the family fell to their knees in prayer. Well, most of the family. The youngest was staring at me, he had these big brown eyes. Ayamin and I looked at each other, then back at those eyes full of worry and excitement.

‘I’ve never been on a train before,’ he said, ‘Do we get to see the conductor?’

The train’s horn blew. I took Ayamin’s hand and we leant back against the trunks of the beech trees. Their scent washed over us as our railway car left the yard and the cool night air began to make me shiver.

Ayamin reached for our bag, which sat between my knees, flipped the clips and pulled out our blanket, she wrapped it around the two of us. The train clattered on and on.