It was hopeless. Once Auntie went off like this, it could be hours, even days, before she came back to the present. He almost envied her, this power.

“Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?”

“That’s okay, Auntie. It can keep.”

She lifted her bony shoulders in a shrug. “You say so.” A silent moment passed. Then: “Tell me something. You believe in God almighty, Peter?”

The question caught him short. Though she’d spoken of God often, never had she asked him what he believed. And it was true that looking at the stars from the station roof, he’d felt something—a presence behind them, their vast immensity. As if the stars were watching him. But the moment, and the feeling it gave him, had slipped away. It would have been nice to believe in something like that, but in the end, he just couldn’t.

“Not really,” he admitted, and heard the gloom his voice. “I think it’s just a word people use.”

“Now, that’s a shame. A shame. Because the God I know about? He wouldn’t give us no chance.” Auntie took a final sip, smacking her lips. “Now you think on that some and then tell me about Theo and where he gone to.”

The conversation seemed to end there; Peter rose to go. He bent to kiss the top of her head.

“Thanks for the tea, Auntie.”

“Anytime. You come back and tell me your answer when it comes to you. We’ll talk about Theo then. Have us a good talk. And Peter?”

He turned in the kitchen doorway.

“Just so you know. She comin’.”

He was taken aback. “Who’s coming, Auntie?”

A teacherly frown. “You know who, boy. You known it since the day God dreamed you up.”

For a moment Peter said nothing, standing in the door.

“That’s all I’m saying now.” The old woman gave a dismissive wave, as if shooing a fly away. “You go on and come back when you ready.”

“Don’t write all night, Auntie,” Peter managed. “Try to get some sleep.”

A smile creased the old woman’s face. “I got eternity for that.”

He showed himself out, stepping into a breath of cool night air that brushed his face, chilling the sweat that had gathered beneath his jersey in the overheated kitchen. His stomach was still churning under the spell of the tea. He stood a moment, blinking into the lights. It was strange, what Auntie had said. But there was no way she could have known about the girl. The way the old woman’s mind worked, stories all piled on top of stories, the past and present all mixed together, she could have meant anyone. She could have been talking about someone who’d died years ago.

Which was just when Peter heard the shouts coming from Main Gate, and all hell began to break loose.

Chapter Twenty-Six

TWENTY-SIX