“Er, because he’s horrible?” said Cait. “And the theory is all about how selfishness is good. No one wants to hear that.”

“It’s a lot more complicated than everyone’s making out,” said Orwell. “I’ve been reading Peacock’s introduction to his translation. The students could learn something from it, actually. It’s stirring stuff, all about striking out on your own, having adventures, looking after yourself, and—”

Effie was attempting to cut into her massive pickled onion. It was like trying to operate on an enormous monster’s eyeball. She didn’t know whether to listen to her father and Cait or not. Usually when her father started talking about anything from her world—magic in particular—she just made herself switch off so she didn’t get too angry. But this was sort of interesting. And disturbing. After all, striking out alone was what Effie did. Everything she heard about galloglasses so far sounded exactly like her. Well, except for the bits about being selfish.

But, she remembered with a horrible pang, she was selfish, wasn’t she? She’d taken all the things that the shopkeepers had given her in Frog Hole and hadn’t really ever done anything nice for anybody. Not like Clothilde, who always took the time to be kind and even knitted socks for people. But then Festus had suggested that the world needed galloglasses. What could that mean?

“Surely it’s better to look after other people than look after yourself?” said Cait.

“Not necessarily,” said Orwell. “What would have happened if Jesus or the Buddha had stayed at home and just done helpful little things for their parents or their immediate community? They both upset quite a lot of people. They weren’t just nicey-nicey do-gooders.”

“If I remember correctly the Buddha didn’t even know anything about his community until he left his palace and actually looked at real people and real life,” said Cait.

Effie remembered learning about the story of the Buddha with Mrs. Beathag Hide. It had been a cold and miserable week in November when the heating wasn’t working in the school, and Mrs. Beathag Hide had decided to comfort the children with heartwarming stories from the major religions. Unfortunately these had mainly involved child murder, crucifixion, live sacrifice, people’s heads appearing on platters and descriptions of endless hell.

The story of the Buddha had at least been better than the others. He’d started off as a pampered young prince called Gautama, whose parents kept him in a beautiful palace where bad things didn’t exist. When Gautama accidentally discovered illness and poverty outside the palace he was so upset he went and sat under a tree for years until he found the solution. Then he became the Buddha and everyone made him into ornaments and incense holders.