I hung back and let Manus go on. We all walked back on our own. Up the road, Nine Elms cold store, the big building with no windows, looked like a dead pyramid for people who didn’t believe in God. Even the river when I got up close and looked over was swirling and muddy like the Red Sea. I thought of Manus being flushed away as he pulled up his pants from the poo. The old lady was shaking her head at me as I looked up to stay afloat, but she wouldn’t grab hold of my hand to pull me out because it was dirty.

Connor caught up.

‘What’s Mummy gonna say?’ I said.

He leaned up against the wall over the river for a rest because the sun was really hot and made you feel tired. ‘Who’s gonna tell her?’

‘I mean about Saturday morning pictures.’ I looked down at the water again and sighed, ‘She won’t like it.’

‘Everyone else is going, why not us?’ He shrugged, ‘No one’s forcing ya.’

‘Does Busola come?’

He took out his bubblegum and chucked it in the river. ‘That’s different,’ he said. ‘They’re not letting her off.’

‘Why not?’

He looked at me like it was obvious, ‘She’s a girl.’

I shook my head and he saw I didn’t get it.

‘She’s gonna be a nun,’ he said.

‘That’s stealing!’

‘It was a Bible film,’ I said quickly, wishing I hadn’t told her, ‘Mummy won’t mind.’ We got home and my mum and dad weren’t back from the market. Busola was playing in the backyard and I wanted to tell her about Saturday morning pictures, what a big screen it was. ‘Manus and Connor were there, too.’

‘It’s not about them, it’s about you. You stole – you did. That wasn’t your money to spend on yourself.’

‘Mummy gave it to me.’

‘That was money for the starving people in Africa! For the collection! And you spent it on the pictures. I’m gonna tell on you.’

‘Just because you want to be a nun!’

She stopped. ‘Who told you that?’

‘No one,’ I said.

‘Good,’ and I could feel talking to her was over.

‘Mum,’ I said. She’d got back and left my dad in the downstairs kitchen to start up cooking for the people who were coming. ‘Manus did a poo in the street.’

She looked up from the shopping bags round her feet in the hall. She was counting up to make sure she had everything and hadn’t been cheated. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘I went up Battersea with him,’ I said, ‘and he did a poo walking back.’

She shook her head, ‘What were you doing in Battersea?’ She looked at me sideways, trying to work it out. ‘How was catechism?’