I left the forest. In the darkness, the torch lit up the shafts of rain with long strokes like a paintbrush. The wet roads were shining brightly, as if they’d been oiled. Perhaps the wisest thing would be to tell someone, Dad if he was there, or even Marie’s parents if necessary. Or I should go and bang on Haisam’s door. He could forget about parables for once: I wasn’t in the mood to hear simple tragedies being talked about in some obscure way. It was clear that Marie was slipping through my fingers, that her last drops of strength were draining away like a stream in the sand. I sat down for a few minutes in a bus shelter and began to cry. I was holding Marie’s life as well as her destiny in my hands.

I crossed the village and came to the church. I could see in the torchlight that the door was ajar. I was surprised, because I thought that it would have opening hours, like shops do. What comfort I hoped to find in a place like that I’m not sure but I went inside. There was a sort of light shining at the back and the whole place had a sinister feel. I turned off my torch. From behind, I could see a man laying things out on that table thingy which has a scholarly name I can’t remember. After a moment the man turned round.

“Are you crying?”

I wiped my face and nodded.

He sighed.

“All the French players have been eliminated from the French Open Tennis Championships,” he said. “It’s sad.”

This was the last thing I expected and I pinched myself to check I wasn’t dreaming. I thought he must be a parabolic priest who expressed himself in obscure ways.

“Is that a parable?” I asked, to show that I knew what was what.

He gave me a strange look and turned back to his table. I could hear the objects tinkling against each other. Suddenly, he turned around to look at me. He appeared to be angry.

“Doesn’t it mean anything to you that France has no players left in the French Open?”

“But sir, I can’t do anything about it. Nothing at all. There are times when you can’t do anything about what happens.”

He seemed to consider this.

“It’s true. You can’t do anything about it. Nobody can. Our players fought hard, but their dreams came to nothing.”

“I’ll go now, sir. I think that would be for the best.”

“That’s a shame, because I think you’re compatible.”

“Compatible? Compatible with what? You’re extremely parabolic, sir.”

“Just compatible, that’s all. You’ll have to come back and we’ll run some tests.”

I was beginning to feel spooked.

“Tests?”