When Joe is finished I wipe the sticky sweet juice from his mouth with my hand.

‘Was that nice, beautiful boy?’ I ask, rubbing his soft skin.

He nods his head.

‘Where’s Daddy?’ he says, his eyes boring into mine. ‘Is he coming?’

‘You’ll see Daddy in a little while,’ I say, the lie sticking in my throat. ‘But for now, you and I are going to have a little explore. Come on.’

I scoop him into my arms, step over the carrier bag that is spilling out half-eaten packets of crisps and empty juice cartons, and head into the hallway.

The smell of damp and must is overpowering, much more so than it was last night. There is green mould pockmarked along the walls and a thick dust covers the floor like a carpet. It rises up into the air as we walk then hangs suspended in the sunlight. Joe starts to cough and I pull him closer to me. We reach the bedroom I was in earlier. The door is still open but we don’t go in. I am determined to find one room that is at least halfway habitable. We walk to the end of the passage and in the gloom I can make out the shape of a staircase.

‘Baby, I need you to stay here for two minutes while I go to find a nice bed,’ I say, placing Joe down at the foot of the stairs. ‘Is that okay?’

He looks at me with a frown then points at the stairs.

‘Daddy up there?’

‘No, darling, Daddy’s not up there,’ I say, trying to keep the exasperation at bay. ‘But there might be somewhere for us to sleep.’

‘Not tired,’ he says, shaking his head furiously.

‘No, not now,’ I say, looking up at the stairs where a shaft of light has illuminated a circular plume of dust that hangs suspended at the top of the banister like a halo. ‘For later, when it’s bedtime. Now be a good boy and stay there while I go and have a very quick look.’

As I climb the stairs I see that the light is coming from a tiny skylight in the ceiling, but as I turn the corner and step on to the landing I’m enveloped in a darkness so thick it almost takes my breath away and an icy chill ripples down my spine. A voice, deep and low, whispers inside my head: You shouldn’t be here. And it is right. There is something rotten and unpleasant up here, something I can’t quite place, though I know I need to leave it well alone. Gripping hold of the banister, I slowly make my way back down the stairs. When I reach the bottom, and Joe, I lift him in my arms and hoist him on to my waist.

‘Want to get down.’

The force of Joe’s voice startles me.

‘Let me go,’ he cries, pounding at my chest with his fists.

‘Sorry, baby,’ I say, easing him on to the ground. ‘Mummy was just …’ I can’t explain it. I reach out to take his hand. ‘Stay close to me and we’ll see if we can find somewhere to put our things.’