Dad goes to argue with her, but Vince gets in first. ‘I may not be a magician, Mum, but it’s a laughable idea that four weeks is enough time to learn magic.’ Vince turns to me with a kind frown. ‘She’s messing with you, Tulsi. Your confidence is a beautiful thing, but you need to be realistic.’

‘Oh, give the girl a chance to bring her mother home!’ Sylvie says, and I wonder if she really does believe I can do it – given that, just a few minutes ago, she said I might not be up to learning magic yet. She’s much harder to read than Mum and Dad.

‘You’d be sending her into danger,’ says Vince. ‘I remember very well what you did to Merry.’

What did she do to Mum?

‘You don’t know the full story, Vincent,’ she says frostily. She turns to me with a smile. ‘Good night, Tulsi. You did very well tonight, my dear.’

I did not.

‘We’ll continue your training first thing tomorrow.’ Sylvie turns on her heel and heads for our caravan, lantern bobbing.

I want to call after her and ask, Is the parallel universe the place of the darkest dark?

‘Right! Bedtime, Tulsi,’ says Dad in a fake cheery voice, as Vincent marches off into the darkness. Dad doesn’t normally do fake voices.

‘Dad …’ I say. ‘I understand that you and Vince are worried, but I know I can do this –’

‘Forget it, Tulsi. I am not letting you go to a parallel universe, by yourself, after only a few weeks of magic lessons.’

I grab his arm. ‘How can you give up on Mum so easily? She’d never give up on you like this, and you know it.’

He flinches at my words. ‘Tulsi, stop,’ he says. ‘There’s no way I’ll risk losing you both. Now, do you want the dinner Li Lin saved for you? I can heat it up.’ He points to the bowl of pasta on our outdoor table.

I shake my head, suddenly so tired I can barely stand. Dad guides me into the store tent, where he’s made up two single camp beds beside the stacks of boxes and spare generator. On one bed is my patchwork quilt and Mum’s purple pillow. My night-light glows on a box he’s covered in one of Mum’s sarongs.