Butterflies were in the tobaccoy bracken. Birds made an aerial display across the pale blue roof of the sky.

‘I want to talk to you, Ruth.’

‘Yes,’ said Ruth.

Rachaela sat down on the grass facing her child. Hers. This person in the dress.

‘I suppose you’re enjoying yourself here.’

‘Yes, thank you,’ said Ruth.

They made you very welcome. They’ve given you lots of presents. They let you do as you like. And no school.’

‘And the piano,’ said Ruth, helping her.

‘And the piano of course. And Adamus.’

‘He lets me call him Adam.’

‘I know. Have you noticed, Ruth, that people are often kind to you, nice, when they want you to do something for them?’

Ruth looked at Rachaela. Her look was frankly speculative. And what do you want? She replied, ‘Sometimes.’

‘And that people let you down.’ Rachaela waited, and thrust home the dart. ‘Like Emma.’

Ruth did not flinch. Her eyes were black and impenetrable. ‘Yes.’

‘I want you to think about this, Ruth. The Scarabae are being nice to you because they want something.’

They want me to stay,’ said Ruth. ‘I’m Adam’s daughter.’

‘And have they told you what they expect of you and Adamus?’

Ruth did not answer at once.

Then she said, ‘They told me I’m going to be betrothed to him.’

Rachaela recoiled. She held herself level.

‘Do you know what that word means? Betrothed.’

‘It means bind with a promise to marry.’ Ruth added, ‘Anna showed me in the library, in the dictionary.’

‘Do you understand what was meant?’ Ruth watched her. ‘That they mean you to marry him?’

‘Oh yes.’

Rachaela said, too loudly, ‘Daughters don’t marry their fathers.’

‘Yes they do. The Egyptians did.’

Rachaela cursed Miss Barrett, Mr Walker and the primary school with its unsuitable gobbets of knowledge. Or perhaps Ruth had got it from some book.

‘You’re not Egyptians.’

‘The kings did it. The important families. To keep the bloodline pure.’

‘And that’s what the Scarabae told you you would be doing?’

Ruth smiled, secretively, and looked at the grass.

‘Have you thought,’ said Rachaela, ‘about what you would have to do as his wife?’ Be taken by him, broken into, forced to experience a hell of sweetness—Don’t think of it. ‘Ruth.’

‘No, Mummy,’ said Ruth.

‘You’d have to bear his children,’ said Rachaela. ‘And do you know what that means?’

‘You told me about babies.’

‘All right.’

‘I don’t mind,’ said Ruth. ‘Anna explained. The line has to go on.’

‘You don’t mind because there’s no way you can understand. My God, I can’t make you realize in five minutes. It’s painful and degrading, Ruth. It means your body isn’t your own,’ Christ, she thought, I sound like Jonquil. ‘And you’ll be expected to do it again and again. Do you follow what I’m saying?’

‘It will be easy, Anna said.’

‘Oh Anna’s explained about babies too has she?’

‘We’re special,’ said Ruth. ‘You’re different. You don’t understand about that.’