Season suddenly realised that she was reacting like an uptight Wichita farmer’s wife. Don’t you go tampering with them things you don’t understand the nature of, young man. She smiled, and relaxed, and said, ‘All right I’m willing to try anything once. Provided it’s moral, of course.’

‘Of course,’ said Granger, warmly. He extended his fingers, and with the cool tips of them, touched Season’s forehead just above her eyebrows. ‘Do you want to close your eyes?’ he asked her. ‘You don’t have to.’

‘Close them,’ prompted Vee. ‘You’ll be amazed what you see. You know, like the visions you get in back of your eyelids.’

‘Now,’ said Granger, ‘I want you to feel the power that is flowing through my hands in the name of Our Lord Jesus Christ. It is the power of healing, the power of forgiveness, the power of purity. All those feelings which were troubling you, all those uncertainties, they will all resolve themselves. Jesus hears your troubles, and knows of your indecision and he understands. He will help you.’

Strangely, Season began to feel soothed. She could imagine some kind of gentle warmth radiating from Granger’s fingertips, and smoothing out the knots and crumples that the day had made in her mind. She wasn’t sure about Jesus, but the reassurance that someone understood how uncertain she felt, and how anxious about her marriage – that reassurance in itself was enough to calm her.

Granger murmured, ‘You’re a very lovely, magnetic person, Season. You have an aura about you which makes you both attractive and sympathetic. I don’t think in my whole time in the service of Our Lord that I’ve ever come across anyone with whom I felt so close so quickly.’

Season opened her eyes. Granger was staring at her through the cage of his upraised fingers. The pupils in those washed-out irises of his were contracted almost to pinpoints.

‘How do you feel?’ he asked her, lowering his hands.

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Better, I think.’

‘Isn’t he marvellous?’ enthused Vee.

‘Well, I certainly feel less harassed,’ agreed Season, brushing back her blonde hair with her hand. ‘Are you staying to dinner. Granger?’

Granger shook his head. ‘I regret not. I have a meeting tonight. Even a church has to be run like a business these days. I have to fill out Form One-o-two-three for the IRS with my accountants.’

‘Didn’t Jesus throw the money-changers out of the temple?’ asked Season.

‘He certainly did,’ agreed Granger. ‘And one day, I hope I can do the same. That’ll be a miracle worth praying for.’