Manus didn’t say anything after his day out and no one else did. But after three days Missus was back. She was changed in that she looked draggled and used to being outside and a bit thinner. We saw her on the back wall and called Manus out to look. She was lying down on her front paws with her back to Bluey who was sitting the same way further along, looking like they were married.

‘It’s a fairy-tale ending, Mum,’ Busola said, changing her tune. ‘Bet you didn’t think of that!’

‘Oh no, it’ll take a cat to get from A to Z,’ my mum said, shaking her fist like she told it to stay in the park. She put her hand on Manus’s shoulder, ‘Tell your father we’ve two cats and that’s as much as I’m having to do with it.’

She went in and we watched Manus get a scratch on his hand before Missus let him lift her down off the wall. But that’s all she did to tell him off, and Bluey watched like he didn’t mind she went in sometimes so long as she came out. So we had a cat for outside and a cat for inside we could feed on scraps, who went outside for the night and had kittens in the downstairs kitchen, which Mr Ajani didn’t like until they all disappeared except for a ginger one we called Ginger. And Mr Ajani said that was the one that was going to catch the rat.

Mr Ajani was staying on in his room on the ground floor, the big downstairs room was empty except for junk. It struck me I didn’t know what he was doing there.

‘Is he studying?’ I said, because that’s what lots of Nigerians who came to stay were doing, and my dad liked that and helped them.

‘Life-long learning,’ my dad said.

‘Why’s he down in that room?’

‘It’s on the ground.’ That was all I could get out my dad until he looked at me like I shouldn’t be asking and kept his eyes wide, ‘He keeps the house safe.’

‘Fuckin’ ridiculous!’

One of the neighbours opposite was in the front room when I got home with my mum from shopping. He hadn’t been in our house before, except when he came in and got Busola out the fire – it was Mrs Ralf’s son.

‘Cut yer lights off! Throw rats at yer! Just to get yer out?’

The council wouldn’t do anything about the rats, he was saying, and they were the cause of it, knocking the street down before we moved out. My dad was getting him to talk, and nodding.