She listens at the door, puts her ear right up against it. She can’t hear anything. Just a gentle hum from upstairs. She hears that noise every now and again but she doesn’t know what it is.

She runs to the table, grabs the wooden doll and turns the key. The doll strikes up her tune obediently.

Ting, ting, ting.

She goes back to the door, taking the doll with her. Listens again. Still nothing. She tries the handle. She had never tried the handle before. Never. It was the only bit of the room she had never touched, except the ceiling and the light.

It turns surprisingly easily and, for a moment, she wonders if it is even connected to the latch but, sure enough, she hears a little click and the door moves a bit. She jumps back. The doll is still singing. There is a gap in the door just wide enough for her to look through.

Only she can’t see much. Just more bricks and . . . are those stairs?

She pushes the door, just a little, to widen the gap. Still, she can’t see much. She looks down at the doll. ‘What should I do?’

The doll winks at the girl.

She only intended to open the door, sneak out to the other side and see if she could somehow work it so the lock clicked after she had shut the door on her side again. She opens the door further, just enough to squeeze through. She is dirty and there is blood trickling down her leg. It is difficult to move. Everything hurts.

But then, all of a sudden, she is on the other side. Like the little girl who walks through the wardrobe, past the furry coats and finds herself in a wondrous, snow-covered land.

Except there is no snow. Just a narrow staircase going upwards.

She stops, holds her breath. It occurs to her that she had to have been outside of the room at some point, when she was younger. The woman said she had been delivered by her mother when she was little.

But now she is here, she can’t go any further. She belongs in the room. The girl doesn’t know if she can even breathe the air outside of the room. Is it OK, or would her head explode like in the film that had scared her where they went to Mars?

Then she remembers the church, and the tree. She can just see the top of the church from the window, its spire towering above everything else, except the tree. She remembers what she had said to herself about the church.

That God is in there, waiting for her.

She looks at the doll. She thinks the doll is crying but isn’t sad that the girl was going. The doll is pleased for her, proud of what she is going to do.