Mum’s body is laid flat, hands by her sides. Her hair is fanned out and wild like some sort of earth fairy.

I smooth out her bed covers and pull a few strands of hair away from her face, for no particular reason other than it feels right.

Then I pull the perfume from my pocket and untwist the stopper. I gather some of the musk in the little pipette and place a drop on either side of Mum’s ears, then a third on her neck.

I watch it slide down her throat and sink, sink, sink into her skin.

I notice the woody smell first, then the rose – each note of the perfume floats towards me like dandelion seeds in springtime – and finally the orange. It completes the scent like ingredients in a potion.

This time the transition is more intense, maybe because the perfume is fresh.

I can feel grains of sand in my mouth. I can taste Kuwait. The room starts to disappear before my eyes, and the beeping of the monitor next to Mum’s bed stops. Instead I hear Aminah’s voice as if she was next to me now.

And above it all I can feel a surge, like an electric shock, as it travels from Mum’s body to mine. But I’m not quite sure what it is. Magic?

Chapter 13

‘What are you, some sort of assassin? I didn’t hear you at all.’

My heart sinks at the familiar words. This is what happened last time. But I suppose I should have expected that as I’d followed the cat again.

I watch the scene play out for a few seconds before I decide to go back inside and try another room.

Maybe then I’ll see something new.

I cross the courtyard again and retrace my steps back to the kitchen. It looks different today, more worn. There are cracks in the walls and floor that stretch through the hall and up the stairs. Some of the ceiling has crumbled in places, leaving chunks of cement everywhere.

The heartbeat is much fainter too, and I just know it’s to do with what the doctors said.

I’m worried that the house will turn to dust before I have the chance to understand what is happening.

Out of nowhere wisps of smoke appear above my head. I blink once, twice, and wonder whether my eyes are playing tricks on me. On my third blink the smoke takes shape. A bird swoops down and round my face, its wings fluttering delicately. I twirl round and round, and follow it. I hold my hand out and try to touch it, but every time I do it flies just out of reach.