She is just about getting used to having her cousin here. She’s getting used to sharing her room and her toys. She hasn’t even minded giving some of her old clothes to Jane, because it turned out there really wasn’t very much in just that one little suitcase she brought. Prin counts off the weeks on her fingers. They’ve had three weeks of summer holidays so far, which means there are another three left. Such a long time, ages and ages, really. She wonders whether Jane will go home then – at the end of the summer. She did try to ask a couple of days ago, as they all sat round the bright breakfast table in the sunshine and Daddy made pancakes for everyone, and there were strawberries and blueberries too, Prin’s favourite. She brought it up then, but Daddy turned round from the cooker and said, ‘Shush,’ and he was smiling, but it wasn’t his normal smile and then Prin’s mum put a hand over her own mouth and the other on Prin’s head, in that way that made Prin want to sink right down through her chair, and Prin knew then that somehow, again, she had said the wrong thing.

And the whole time, Jane just sat there, pushing one blueberry after another into her mouth.

Now, as she lies there on the roof, Prin hears the scrape of the patio door below her. Someone – Mum or Daddy – has stepped out onto the patio below. Prin lies still as a statue, quiet as a mouse. She wonders suddenly, for the first time since she’s been coming out here, what would happen if Daddy put his head round her bedroom door in the night to check on her unexpectedly. What would happen if he did that and saw her bed empty, the covers kicked off onto the floor? What would she do? She would be caught red-handed, and she wouldn’t be given a chance to explain. In future, Prin thinks, she will stuff pillows under her covers, the way she read about once in a book. She will trick Daddy into thinking she is in there. Everybody, really, can be tricked.

Now Prin hears a scraping sound, and a moment later she catches the smell of something on the air. A bitter, smoky smell. She recognizes it, but how strange! She doesn’t know what this smell is doing here.

Very quietly, Prin sits up. She can’t see any of what’s happening below her – she’d have to stick her head right over the edge to look and then whoever was down there would see her, and then, boy, would she be in big, big trouble. Instead she focuses on the tree branches that make criss-crossing silhouettes against the sky and stretches both of her ears to listen.

For a while there’s almost nothing but silence, just a tiny kissing sound, a tiny crackle and sounds of breathing.

Then she hears the patio door scrape open again, and her Daddy’s voice saying, ‘Susan.’