‘Well, it must have been God’s will for Harry to find you and bring you to the Truth,’ said Aunt Maisie, who sounded as though she said it through clenched teeth.

‘It must be hard for you to accept that a heathen like me caught his heart when there were rows and rows of mousey girls in brown skirts and brown cardies and brown lace-up shoes just waiting for him to choose them so they could set up their beige households and sit with him, reading their Bibles on their brown cord sofas,’ said Mum.

‘There’s no need to be rude about God-fearing women, Agnes,’ said Aunty Maisie.

I could hear a noise that sounded like my mum swivelling on her heels. I guessed she was looking my aunt in the eye.

‘Are you saying I’m not God-fearing, Maisie? I married him and I accepted the Truth and I was baptised. I’ve tried my best. I am so worried about being considered a poor Christadelphian mother that I am stricter on my children than almost anyone else. I’ve given you nearly all of me. There’s very little of the old Agnes left. The only thing I haven’t done is transform myself into a little brown mouse. For the sake of my marriage and my sanity, I need to keep a part of that girl Harry first met. And if God is the God of anything useful, surely he doesn’t judge women on what they choose to wear. Quote me the psalm that says we have to be dowdy.’

I could hear my aunt breathing now. It was faster and wheezier than usual. And after quite a long minute, I heard my mother say: ‘I Samuel 16:7, Maisie. “For God sees not as man sees: for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”’

I heard my mother’s heels click quickly across the old terrazzo as she escaped.

I must have accidentally said, ‘Yes!’ out loud.

‘Who’s there?’ I heard Aunty Maisie command. ‘Is that you, Dorcas? Come out here now.’

I remained motionless, with my breath held.

‘I know you’re there, you naughty girl. Come out here at once or I’ll tell your father.’

Darn. She had me now. I wouldn’t want Dad to have another lecture from her about me. I slowly pulled up my witches britches and opened the creaky door into the basin area. We stared at each other for a moment, and then without a word, she grabbed me by the ear and yanked me out into the side lane and off to find my father.

CHAPTER 5

Maynard told me that Caleb had been teased for not turning up to footy on Saturday morning, and that the sports teacher had made a comment about religious nuts in the hearing of most of his class.

I wasn’t surprised then when Caleb didn’t come home from school when expected, and that by four thirty Mum was beside herself with worry about him. She decided he must have had an asthma attack and would be lying in a ditch not able to breathe. Ruthy and I were pretty sure he’d just done a runner again.