Granger smiled. ‘It is not for me to question the ways of God. God has decided many times before to test the spiritual and moral strength of his creation – with fires, and floods, and plagues. Now we have famine. Don’t you think, after all, that a famine is a fitting test for a nation that for decades has surfeited itself on steak, and candies, and sheer fat? This country has been so gluttonous that police chiefs have been forced to cut the pay of their officers if they don’t lose weight; and did you hear that they had to campaign against obesity amongst students at the Oral Roberts University? America has been a nation of pigs for too long, out of sheer greed, and God has seen fit to punish us for it. Only those who have faith in the practicality of his Word will be saved.’

‘I don’t believe in the practicality of his Word. Why should I be saved?’

‘Because you are one of my loved ones; and, in time, I know that you will come to understand that what I say is true.’

‘It’s not what you say that concerns me,’ said Season. ‘It’s what you do.’

Granger raised a hand, and said, ‘O Lord, thou hast brought up my soul from the grave: thou hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit. Sing unto the Lord: for his anger endureth but a moment: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.’

‘What’s that?’ asked Season. ‘A prayer for everlasting sexual licence? Cry tonight, but get your rocks off tomorrow?’

Granger slowly shook his head from side to side. ‘You’re so resentful, aren’t you? So angry. But there isn’t any need to be. You should feel happiness, that the Lord has protected you in this country’s terrible time of trouble. You should feel content. You should forget the past and consider the happiness of tomorrow.’

‘I don’t think I’ll ever forget those Hell’s Angels,’ whispered Season. ‘And I don’t think I’ll ever forget you.’ There was venom in her voice, undiluted, and crackling with hostility. Granger flinched, as if she had spat at him.

‘I think I have other people to talk to,’ he said, rubbing his cheek slowly with the back of his hand. ‘You’ll forgive me?’

It was an unfortunate choice of words. But Season didn’t retaliate any more. She simply turned away, and left Granger standing there, uncertain and irritated. After a while, he resumed his beatific smile, and continued on down the bottled fruit shelves, blessing his uncomfortable flock, and wishing them a safe and prosperous day.