Time is getting on. She should be in the dining room for breakfast already. She tries to say something as I lift her nightdress over her head.

‘What was that?’

‘Doctor Foster went to Gloucester.’

I don’t know what to say to that so I help her stand up. She leans against me, then steps back and takes a good look.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Afsana.’

‘Of course. That’s right.’

She touches the end of my plait. ‘All this,’ she says, ‘where did it come from?’

‘My hair you mean? The colour?’

She nods.

‘My father’s side.’

‘So much of it.’ She pulls on it, again, not hard, but I have to stop myself backing away. Her face is too close. She puts her other hand onto her head, pointing to her hair lying so flat and dull against her scalp.

‘Generous,’ she says.

‘Not really. He kept plenty for himself. He has a long beard like this.’ I mime it coming down to my waist. It could be that long by now for all I know. She smiles and I turn her towards the bathroom and walk with her and sit her on the stool while I turn the water on. There’s no way to escape the first freezing blast of it because the dial is directly below the showerhead. Stupid design. I think of Baba sitting on the floor with his legs crossed talking to a friend, someone important. I can’t remember which house we were in. There were so many. Amina whispered my instructions in the hallway. We peered through the door for a minute then she gave me a push. I tiptoed across the carpet and sat on his knee facing away from the others. He didn’t tell me to go. My cheek against his shirt. He smelt of outside places, of paper and mopped floors and money. I pulled the cup of water towards me and dipped my finger in. I carried the drops over quickly and balanced them onto the hairs in his beard. I held my breath. Nobody noticed. His breathing against me. The shake of his chest when he laughed. The water settled there like dew in a spider’s web. Amina snorted from behind the door and my hand shot out. The cup tipped over. Baba gasped and jumped up. The knee of his suit trouser was soaked. He pushed me forward.

‘Out!’ he said, ‘out, out, out! Stop pestering me. Go and do something useful!’ I ran out to the stairs. Amina was already at the top.

‘I can’t believe you actually did it,’ she said, ‘silly, silly Sana. You know you’ll be in for it later.’