He was at least able to go to our usual school, which was a blessing for him compared to Ruthy and I, because at least he had his friends and some things seemed familiar. At Sunday school, I would hand him a note for Maynard, and he would sneak an answer back to me the next week. He had to be very careful Aunty Maisie didn’t see it in case she decided to take it hostage. Maynard’s notes were reassuring and newsy, and some weeks it was the only thing I had to hang on to from one weekend to the next. Caleb said his teacher asked him if he was okay, and he said yes, but he wished he had said, ‘No, I am living with an evil witch and someone needs to rescue me.’ But he knew that would just make Dad cross.

At least on Sundays he spent more time with Dad than we did, which I was jealous about, but which seemed fair given he was just a little boy. Sometimes Dad took him for drives in the car or to pick up things for Aunty Maisie from the few shops that opened on Sundays. They brought Grandpa out of his sunroom bedroom when Dad visited, and Caleb rather liked sitting next to Grandpa, who didn’t say much but whom Caleb felt sent out kindly sorts of feelings into the room. Caleb liked Grandpa’s white moustache and big hands and the fact that he always wore a tartan waistcoat, suit trousers and black shoes and socks even when it was very hot. He cleaned Grandpa’s shoes for him every day, and if Grandpa wasn’t well enough for him to take them in to see him, he left them on a rag by the door for Aunty Maisie to take in when she dressed him. He admired Grandpa’s gold Waltham pocket watch he was given as a retirement present, and which he was never without. Caleb thought he might sleep with it on but he snuck into Grandpa’s room one night and found it on his night stand. Most Sundays Grandpa let him open it up and put it to his ear.

He was still obsessed with the idea that Dad was going to be sacrificed, and every Sunday asked Ruthy if she had done more research on how we could prevent it from happening. He was sure that we had been farmed out to different families because Mum wasn’t coming back and Dad was going to be hung on a tree branch with nails like Jesus. He said he couldn’t cope with living with Aunty Maisie forever and we had to do something to stop Dad from being crucified.

One of his theories was that Mr Bednarski had sent Mum away so she couldn’t stop him from sacrificing Dad on account of Mr Bednarski being a Jew and that was who had done Jesus in. And because Mr Bednarski also had a building business, Caleb was sure this meant he would have the materials needed to nail Dad up in a cemetery when the time came. It was all he wanted to talk about when we caught up, and it didn’t matter what we said to him, he was quite convinced he had it right.