It ended on a Friday, as wonderful things often do. Elliot Hooper got up at 7.30 a.m. as normal, had breakfast made by his dad at 8.15 a.m., which would now be his normal, and watched a fourth piece of toast be devoured by Virgo, who would never be normal.

‘I really must introduce the Council to peanut butter,’ she muttered, adding it to the long list of things she planned to take back from her experiences on Earth. Elliot peered over at the other recent entries, which included ‘pets’, ‘long division’, and, inexplicably, ‘tartan’.

‘You are so weird,’ he grumbled, pushing his own breakfast aside. Elliot was in an especially bad mood that morning, although he couldn’t figure out why. Despite being back in his own bed, in his own house, he’d barely slept a wink last night. Every time he tried to doze off, visions of his adventures with Virgo kept popping into his mind, starving him of sleep. Typical Virgo. Even on the last day he’d probably ever see her, she was still a pain in the butt.

He changed his mind about his scrambled eggs and picked up his knife and fork. He’d feel better once she left. Without Virgo, life could finally return to some kind of normal. No Virgo meant no complications. Life would be so much quieter, simpler, easier. It would be much better. Without her. Definitely.

He pushed his plate aside again. He had a weird lack of appetite today.

The Gods knocked at the back door and Dave let them into the kitchen with a wink.

‘So, then!’ boomed Zeus, a little too loudly, Elliot thought. ‘All ready for the off? The Council are on their way.’

Elliot found Virgo was staring straight at him. She dropped her toast on her plate. It seemed she too had lost her appetite. Today was strange.

‘Of course!’ she said finally, standing up to collect her things. She walked quietly out of the room and up the stairs. Maybe he should go after her, just to help her, or something. He saw every pair of eyes was on him.

‘What?’ he said.

‘Are you all right, sweetie?’ Aphrodite asked, coming and sitting next to him.

‘I’m fine,’ he said, shoving a forkful of egg into his mouth to prove just how totally fine he was. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘Mate,’ said Hermes, flitting over and landing on his other side. ‘You’re about to lose your BFF. That’s brutal, man.’

Elliot couldn’t tell whether it was his dad’s breakfast or Hermes’s suggestion that made him choke, but, either way, the egg came spraying out of his mouth in a shower of crumbly indignation.

‘BFF?’ he said, when his breath had returned to his body. ‘Don’t be stupid. I hardly know her. She’s an idiot . . .’