The Gods shuffled anxiously, as if they too had been wondering the same thing.

‘That’s really up to you, Elliot,’ Zeus said finally. ‘We will of course stay for as long as you need us. We’re family.’

Family. Elliot winced a little at the word. He had no family. Not really. Not any more. He recalled his mum’s desperate pleas for him to find his real father. But where to start? It didn’t look like Dave Hooper was in any great hurry to find him. Perhaps he really was a loser. Perhaps he didn’t want him after all. Still, Elliot managed to summon up a smile.

‘Thanks,’ he said, just as Virgo walked into the front room.

‘That was the Zodiac Council,’ she said, returning Hermes’s iGod to him. ‘I am to be reinstated on the Council. With immediate effect.’

Elliot couldn’t help but notice that Virgo didn’t seem exactly . . . optimal.

‘I knew they’d see sense!’ Zeus boomed. ‘When do you start?’

‘They’re coming for me on Friday,’ she said, dully, Elliot thought. ‘They need to file the relevant paperwork, of course. I can’t wait.’

‘That’s great news,’ said Elliot, trying to mean it. Virgo was a bit like a scab on his knee he enjoyed picking – painful at first, but he’d sort of miss it when it was gone.

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. ‘This is most optimal. I had better start packing.’

‘You’ve got three days!’ Elliot shouted after her.

‘Exactly,’ Virgo replied from the top of the stairs.

‘Right, then,’ said Athene, to break the heavy silence. ‘I’ll make a start on dinner. What would you like, Elliot? I’ll make anything you want.’

‘I’m not very hungry, thanks,’ said Elliot quietly, looking again at Josie’s chair.

Aphrodite came up behind him and encircled him with her warm hug.

‘You might have fought Daemons, travelled the world, risked your life more times than I’ve had French manicures, and saved the Earth – but you’re not hungry?’ she asked. ‘Now I am worried.’

Elliot smiled.

‘Maybe I could manage some pizza,’ he said. ‘And a bit of garlic bread. And do a few chips, just in case. With ketchup. And a burger on the side.’

He felt the Goddess of Love squeeze him tight.

‘Atta boy. Go and wash up for supper,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve got an extra-strength batch of Fart Powder I’m brewing in the shed to slip into Prissy-pants’s tea . . .’

Elliot laughed. If this was his life from now on, it wasn’t going to be so bad. He headed for the bathroom.

And then there was a knock at the door.

After months of being afraid of anyone coming to the house, Elliot instinctively tensed. But then he remembered. He had nothing to fear any more. That was one of the many gifts his mum had left him.