Something in Céline’s handbag had set off the machine; the guard went through it as Mike and the girls clustered around. The other guard motioned for Seb and Willow to wait.

Willow watched as Céline laughed and flipped back her chocolate-brown hair. “The girls are all very pretty, aren’t they?” she said in a neutral tone. “That one, Céline, really seems to like you.”

Seb stared down at her profile. Was he imagining things, or had there been a glimmer almost like jealousy from her? Then Willow seemed to shake her head at herself and the sense faded. The guard motioned her through; she groped in her pocket for her ticket and moved forward, heels clicking on the marble floor.

They came out into the packed main cathedral. As Seb had seen before when he’d had a look around, the bones of the place had been altered somewhat since his boyhood – but its flesh was now completely different. Far away down the aisle, golden angels shone from the ornate floor-to-ceiling altar; smaller ones held candlesticks aloft from the corner of each pew. There were several real angels too, gliding through the high-domed space, wings flashing like mirrors. Reaching out with his mind, Seb found a throng of them sitting in the unseen office area – easily over a dozen.

“Look, here’s a seat,” said Céline, tugging at his arm. “There’s room for all of us, if we squeeze.”

“Thanks, but Maria and I will—”

Céline ignored him and reached across to take Willow’s arm instead, laughing as she drew her into the pew. “Come, come! We haven’t seen Seb in weeks – we want to meet his girlfriend!”

Behind them, people were waiting to get past; Mike shoved Seb good-naturedly into the pew ahead of him, beside Willow. “Nice wings, dude,” he whispered. “You took my advice, didn’t you – told her you’re a devout.”

Seb’s eyes met Willow’s as they both realized: it was either make a scene and perhaps draw attention to themselves, or stay where they were. “I think it’ll be all right,” murmured Willow to him as they sat down. “The service will be starting soon, anyway.”

“We must play a game,” announced Céline once they were settled. “What actress does Maria look like? Because she looks so familiar it’s driving me insane. Seb, who do you think?”

He shrugged. His heart was suddenly pounding. “I don’t know,” he said, gazing at the converted cathedral and trying to sound uninterested. “She’s more beautiful than any actress.”

The three French girls all cooed in delight. Mike nodded. “Definitely the right answer.” He offered his hand to Willow. “I’m Mike, by the way. I’m from Sacramento, what about you? I heard an American accent, right?”

“I’m from Maine,” said Willow, shaking his hand. Seb could sense her anxiety. “Bangor.”

“Yeah? What brought you down here?”