‘What is this amazing thing?’ Laurie demanded, putting her fists on her hips. ‘I’ll show you,’ Brian said earnestly, ‘but you have to swear on Mom’s name and hope to die if you tell anyone.’ He paused, thinking, for a moment, and then added: ‘You specially can’t tell Lissa, because I swore to her.’

Laurie’s ears were finally all the way up. It was probably a big nothing, but she was tired of putting clothes away. It was really amazing how much junk a person could accumulate in just three months. ‘Okay, I swear.’

They took along two empty suitcases, one for each of them, but their precautions proved unnecessary; their stepfather never came out of his study. It was probably just as well; he had worked up a grand head of steam, from the sound. The two children could hear him stamping about, muttering, opening drawers, slamming them shut again. A familiar odor seeped out from under the door – to Laurie it smelled like smouldering athletic socks. Lew was smoking his pipe.

She stuck her tongue out, crossed her eyes, and twiddled her fingers in her ears as they tiptoed by.

But a moment later, when she looked at the place Lissa had pointed out to Brian and which Brian now pointed out to her, she forgot Lew just as completely as Brian had forgotten about all the wonderful things he could watch on TV that night.

‘What is it?’ she whispered to Brian. ‘My gosh, what does it mean?’

‘I dunno,’ Brian said, ‘but just remember, you swore on Mom’s name, Laurie.’

‘Yeah, yeah, but…’

‘Say it again!’ Brian didn’t like the look in her eyes. It was a telling look, and he felt she really needed a little reinforcement.

‘Yeah, yeah, on Mom’s name,’ she said perfunctorily, ‘but, Brian, jeezly crow…’ ‘And hope to die, don’t forget that part.’