“She’d have kept it from me, Alex. I wasn’t the most sympathetic soul in the world when it came to anything mystical, or people like John Dee, with his secrets, or indeed any other arcane information. But she was a fascinating mix herself. Not conventional in her religious ideas, but she was nevertheless respectful and interested in all faiths; she was what you would call ‘spiritual.’ She was patient with most people’s ideas about God, and faith; she had her own unique take on it. And she was perfectly unworried by our…agnosticism. You’re probably more of a true atheist than I.”

Henry didn’t seem agitated by the questions, and he moved to retrieve a framed object from the passage leading from the living room up toward the staircase. “You ask about the region. Do you remember this embroidery she did? A long time ago. There’s a cushion like this in the house in Normandy too.”

He handed Alex what was in fact a tapestry, to which he’d paid no attention since childhood. Now he looked closer. “It’s connected with the sacred geometry of Chartres,” his father was saying, trying to recall its significance for his wife.

Alex studied the canvas. It was a winged female angel, woven in blues and white; and she was holding a branch of palm in one hand and a sheaf of wheat in the other. The background was filled in with many shades of blue—mainly a lapis color, but in some areas, dark as midnight. Superimposed on her robes and features in gold-thread-like wool was a strange kite shape, with a tail leading off in the lower left of the frame. This kite was reproduced identically below the seraphic creature in the frame—a reciprocating version without the human details. He tilted it for Lucy’s view, next to him on the sofa.

“I think that’s the constellation of Virgo,” she said, hesitating.

“Yes, Lucy,” Henry responded, “I believe you’re right. She started working on it just after Alex was born—that’s your sign, Alex, isn’t it?” He nodded, mystified, at his father. “We bought the house before Will was on the way—you weren’t a year old. We started looking in the early spring for somewhere to buy, stayed with your godparents near Rouen while we house-hunted. You know you were baptized at Chartres? Your mother was keen, and it was arranged by your godfather, who knew someone. Will’s baptism was at Winchester.”

Lucy looked at Alex, who was shaking his head in surprise. “I didn’t know.”