'I agree,' replied Joffy. 'Paella wasn't invented until after the Spanish Armada. There are the odd mistakes, but even so his accuracy is astonishing. Not only do his Revealments include names and dates but also, on one occasion, a reliable phone number for a good time in Leeds. By the end of the sixteenth century St Zvlkx had been afforded that rare hallmark of unbridled Elizabethan success – the commemorative plate. By the time of his next Revealment a century and a half later his supporters and followers had dwindled to only a handful. But when it arrived, this Revealment the Third catapulted Zvlkx back into the world's headlines: . . . In 1776, a George King numbered three will lose his mind, his largest colony, and his socks. The colony will grow to be the greatest power in the world but his mind and his socks will stay lost . . .'

'And the fourth?'

'. . . a man named after a form of waterproof shoe will trounce a short Frenchman in Belgium . . .'

'Clearly Waterloo – and the fifth?'

'. . . The evil yet nattily dressed aggressors known as Nasis, fear of whom has polarised the nation, will be ejected from these islands by – and I know this sounds really weird – the colony that was mentioned in prediction three. And Denis Compton will score 3,816 runs for Middlesex in a single season . . .'

'Uncanny,' murmured Lydia. 'How would a thirteenth-century monk know that Compton batted for Middlesex?'

'He was, and indeed might be again, the greatest of seers,' replied Joffy.

'We know that his Revealment the Sixth was a prediction of his own second coming, but it is the sports fans of Swindon who will really be bowled over by his Revealment the Seventh.'

'Exactly so,' replied Joffy. 'According to the incomplete Codex Zvlkxus, it will be: There will be a home win on the playing fields of Swindonne in nineteen hundred and eighty-eight, and in consequence of . . . There is more, but it's been lost. We can ask him about it when he reappears.'

'Fascinating stuff, Irrev. Next! Just one question. Where is he?'

I looked at my watch as Friday stood on my lap and stared that unnerving sort of two-year-old stare at the couple behind us. St Zvlkx was already three minutes late, and I saw Joffy bite his lip nervously. They had made much of the Great Man's predictions, and for him not to turn up would be just plain embarrassing – not to mention costly. Joffy had spent a great deal of Mum's savings learning Old English at the local adult education centre.

'Tell me, Irrev. Next,' continued Lydia, trying to pad out the interview, 'I understand the Toast Marketing Board has secured a sponsorship deal with St Zvlkx?'