‘Don’t look,’ Busola said, ‘they’re going down that way.’

My mum stayed by the door as my dad went over to speak to two policemen keeping people back towards the main road. I could see he was telling them to change where they were blocking off so we could get in and out. He was taking his time and showing them the other house that was lived in, and getting them to nod and laugh and pat him on the back. He put his hand on a policeman’s shoulder, pointing up at the fire like it was their job to keep that away, and pointing at our house like they could come in there for a cup of tea once he got back with the wheelbarrow. But it was my mum who was getting all the looks from people, with the bags and the big wheelbarrow by the front door. She pulled her coat tight and her lips and waited.

I could tell she wasn’t feeling right. We’d been moving our furniture through the streets with two smaller wheelbarrows for Manus and Connor, but no one was looking until the fire broke out. Now we had to do it with everyone watching. She was looking at my dad and the fire, and ignoring the crowd. My dad had found somewhere to rent up by the Oval and said it would do for now, and he was going to borrow a van from work to move the beds and the cooker but we had to carry everything else ourselves. He was still saying it was daylight robbery and he wasn’t moving unless they paid him properly for our house. But the damp had started coming in the walls, and we couldn’t stop it spreading from the front room down the stairs into the hallway and the kitchen. My mum was coughing, and all the wallpaper on that side of the house was mouldy and running with water. We weren’t even saying we were moving, but we stopped bringing anyone home. I was there at the window when Connor came home from football, it was raining and they were dropping everyone off. Instead of stopping by the house the minibus passed us and stopped on the corner. Connor got out with all his mates from school pressing their faces up to the back of the bus so you could see their mouths open looking up at the empty ruins of the houses. He jumped down and didn’t look back. He didn’t come in out the rain, he turned and ran away down Tyers Street. I went and told Manus who said, ‘Serves him right, let him stand in a doorway and get wet.’