‘He’s an old soul, that one.’

‘Indeed.’

‘You should bring him to a meeting.’

‘I don’t know. Annie thinks it’s all heebie jeebies.’

‘I won’t take offence at that! Most people do. Did you read the article in the Gazette about the occult? It maddens me to the core.’

‘No, I didn’t. Was it utterly fair and unbiased? I’m sensing serenity in your voice,’ Joe mocked.

‘I’ll give her serenity all right! Young thing doesn’t know nothing about nothing, trying no doubt to finish her dissertation for her journalism degree. It had us all down as devil worshippers, sacrificing animals and using magic.’

‘Oh dear. How did Mary take it?’ Joe knew the group well, and he accepted the odd invitation for social gatherings, Annie just wanted him to avoid anything formal that involved chanting or praying.

‘Nonplussed. You know what she’s like.’

‘And Jock?’

‘Ah, he dismissed her as a little lost girl who hasn’t yet found her sixth element. Like all youngsters, eh?’

Joe nodded.

‘Mary won’t judge but I know she was fuming. Mary and Jock are too accepting, that’s why Sandra likes them so much, because they calm me down.’ He laughed.

Joe sipped his coffee and paused. Fred waited.

‘You remember Kirk Junker?’ Joe broke the silence.

Fred stopped wiping the crumbs away from his plate. Bertha had enjoyed the odd nibble of bread and even fat from the meat under his feet, but now the trickle stopped. Fred finished his mouthful and picked up his coffee cup, bringing it to his mouth. He took his time and spoke when he’d finished.

‘I do.’

‘Remember the girl?’

‘His daughter?’

Joe nodded. Fred pushed his plate to one side and drained his mug. He looked out of the window, which was misty with condensation, water dripping down the pane. It created a streaky vision and it held Fred’s gaze for a minute. Bertha pricked her ears up and placed her snout on Fred’s knee. He petted her and reassured her. A clock ticked and it was the first time that Fred had noticed it since Joe arriving.

‘I haven’t seen them in years. I can’t help you with all that, Joe.’

‘I’m not asking for help, Fred, just advice. I don’t ever forget faces. It’s been, what – five years? She hasn’t changed a bit: she’s still got those piercing blue eyes and the freckles. She must be seventeen or eighteen now. It’s the look that I can’t get out of my head: you know, the look of wisdom and experience that a young girl shouldn’t have? She hasn’t changed at all.’

‘You mean you’ve seen her? Did you see Kirk?’

‘No.’

‘Good. Stay away.’

‘I have no intention of getting involved. I only saw her, and she needed help.’