‘Can you see a way up?’ I asked.
The wide ledge outside our parents’ bedroom on the first floor was a short leap from the jutting stone frame of the scullery window. From there it was an easy scuttle from window to window, a short swarm up a drainpipe and then a shuffle round a corner, using the gutter for support. The drop down from the gutter to the windowsill outside the attic playroom was the only difficult bit. I was too short and Kit had to go first and catch me as I let go and haul me in.
Ma didn’t remember any of it. I could see from her face. It had been Pa who’d found it funny when we’d come downstairs acting like we’d been there for hours. He’d guessed. Of course he had, and he’d told Kit not to do it again, at least not without ropes. But it had given him an idea and later on
