It sounded like Busola again, like she was thinking about it. I looked across to see if there was anything coming under the door but the light was off on the landing and I couldn’t tell. I didn’t want Busola to leave me. ‘Where was I?’

‘You were outside.’

‘What was Susan doing?’ I was trying to keep hold of Busola in the dark. ‘Were you haunted?’

Busola lifted up on her arm and looked at me like I didn’t know what I was talking about. ‘Can you keep a secret?’

I nodded.

‘Mummy told me not to tell you. It’s not me who’s haunted. You know who it is, don’t ya?’

I shook my head.

‘What if it’s you?’

She watched me from the shadow.

‘It was you lighting fires,’ I said, ‘you and Susan.’

I wasn’t sure any more who I was talking to, because she didn’t answer until her head moved towards me and said, ‘You tell me how then.’

I couldn’t. I was trying to imagine myself lighting matches, or dropping them like Manus into the dome of the paraffin heater so it lit up with different colours, or being the one who poured water on to damp it down, so it rose up in a big orange flame to the ceiling and spread out down the walls to set light to the curtains, but I couldn’t. I only saw me watching and jumping up to run outside.

‘See, can’t, can yer?’

I could tell her about Manus but she’d get him in trouble. Wasn’t she there in the room with us? Why did I think she was the one doing it? ‘You went funny when that lady said about Susan,’ I said.

Busola didn’t move. I couldn’t make out her face properly, I had to imagine it. She just kept still.

‘She was real, wasn’t she?’

‘Susan’s gone now,’ she said. ‘So we’re all right, aren’t we?’

‘Yeah,’ I said.

‘Remember, you started it,’ and she rolled over on to her back.

I wasn’t sure what I started, but we listened to our mum come out the front room and go down to the toilet, and after a while our dad come out on the landing to look for her. They whispered on the stairs. Then came back up the steps slowly. The door opened and they looked in on us. We both pretended we were asleep.

The doors closed behind them. Busola turned over, ‘Mummy’s ill,’ she said, ‘I think she’s going to die.’

I sat up in bed with my back stiff and my eyes open wide.

The Face of God