My pulse vibrates in my arms and legs; sweat pricks at my pits and top lip. I want to grab Oscar and throw him out the front door. My feet don’t work. The rat’s back, nipping at my guts. Oscar’s rattling the handle. Splinter’s barking outside. Nip nip nip. “Your backyard’s a bit of a mess. Don’t you have a mower?”

I can’t think. I need to get him out.

“You can walk him with me if you like.”

THIS IS HOW we end up out the front, Splinter on the lead between us, and Lettie smirking at me from her porch.

I ignore her but Oscar gives her a long stare. “That house is a breeding ground for rats.”

“What?”

“Mum dropped round once to offer her some veggies. Not long after we moved in. An older woman on her own; Mum thought it’d be a nice thing to do.” I can hear someone else’s voice in the words. “She got a quick look inside when the door was open and she said it stank. Plus”—he glances over—“she was really rude.”

Lettie’s smells. Everyone knows about it. A little muscle below my left shoulder relaxes a bit. “Yeah,” I agree quietly, “it’s pretty ripe.” I think of the eggs on the front step. “She’s all right, though.”

“She’s a public health hazard is what she is.” There’s that other voice again. “It’s pretty strong even at your house, especially near the back door. Funny it’s not so bad at the front of her place, must be worse out the back.” He cranes his neck like he’s trying to peer between our houses. “Maybe it’s those office buildings behind you guys, boxing the stink in.”

“I’m not deaf, you know.” Lettie’s face is all angles, like a hawk that’s spotted a nice rippable bunny.

Oscar pretends not to hear, but I can see his cheeks going pink. It makes me smile.

Lettie catches my eye and gives me a wink. I nod back. She glances at Oscar and says to me, “What are you doing with that, then?”

It’s a good question. Splinter’s hustling after him, his lead pulling at my arm; he knows a walk when it’s on offer. I ignore Lettie’s question and let Splints drag me along. Oscar’s talking again, his face angled just enough so I can catch his words but not so much that he has to look back toward Lettie. I follow, wondering how I’ll get rid of him now. He’s chatting on about something that doesn’t involve input from me. I hold in a sigh. At least having another kid with me means no one will look twice.