‘He’s just a boy,’ she reasoned. ‘All he could think about was Star. I’m sure he was just relieved that she was finally safe.’

‘I hope so,’ said Ruby, opening her handbag. ‘Because I found this in the pocket of his shorts when I was sorting through the dirty laundry.’ She handed Imelda an asthma inhaler.

_______________________

Neville called in at the booth during his lunch break to pick up the things that he had left with Imelda for safekeeping. Despite the heat, he was dressed for work in his customary suit and tie, and a sheen of perspiration glistened on his red face. Imelda took down the picture and searched inside the cubbyhole behind it. The asthma inhaler had been added to its contents. Imelda had told Ruby to forget that she had ever seen it. When Ruby had gone, Imelda had consulted her cards and her conscience, and decided that silence would protect those who deserved protection. She handed Neville his rosary and prayer book and he slipped them into his pocket but he seemed reluctant to leave.

‘Is there anything else I can do for you, Neville? Is Miriam well?’

He smiled at the mention of his wife’s name, but the tension in his face betrayed his unease.

‘Do you think I’m being disloyal to her, Madame Burova? Do you think I’m a bad husband?’

Imelda had grown quite fond of Neville, who visited her once a week without fail. He was a decent man in a difficult situation, and she was touched by his sensitivity.

‘I have no right to judge you, Neville,’ she replied.

‘But I would value your opinion, Madame Burova.’ Always so polite; so formal.

Imelda placed her hand reassuringly on his arm. ‘I think you are simply trying to be both a good husband and a good son.’

‘Yes, but do you think that what I’m doing is wrong? In the eyes of God? I made a commitment when I converted. Miriam’s family would only allow her to marry within the Jewish faith and I love her very much. I try my best, but in my heart, I will always be a Catholic.’

Imelda shook her head. ‘When we look up, wherever we are in the world, we see the same sky. We each may have a different vantage point, but we are all looking at the same sun, the same moon and stars. That’s how it works with God, in my opinion. I’m sure he doesn’t care how we worship or what we call him. Perhaps simply having faith in him and living by it is enough, and the trappings of religion are only fripperies. So, no, Neville, I don’t think what you are doing is wrong.’

Neville smiled and this time it reached his eyes.