"Certainly. Isn't that one of those miniature LPs that you can spread strawberry jam on?"

"Who else do we know?" Jim asked.

"Not too many people," said John from his side of the concrete bench (and seated now upon Jim's cushion). "None, in fact."

"Oh well, throw the thing away."

"Not a bit of it. This is the big one, Jim. And I'm not going to let you back out again."

"There's nobody we know, that's it."

"Nobody you know about what?"

"Who said that?" asked Jim.

"I did."

Jim turned round on the bench. Behind him stood a child of perhaps ten years of age. He was a golden child. All golden, golden hair. Golden eyes.

"My name is Cain," said the golden child.

"Jim," said Jim. "And this is ..."

"John," said the golden child. "John Omally."

"How do you know that?" asked John.

"I don't know. But I do."

"Do you know about computers?"

"No, stop," said Jim. "He's a child."

"Children are great at this stuff, Jim. Hackers and suchlike."

"Hackers?"

"You really wouldn't want to know."

"I know about computers," said Cain. "I have read all about them."

"Would you know what to do with this?" John displayed the little disc.

"Of course."

"How would you like to earn yourself some extra pocket money?"

"No!" Jim snatched away the disc. "He's a child, John. Get a grip of yourself."

"Where's your brother?" John asked.

"Abel is in the library. He's reading all about drag."

"Drag?"

"Cross-dressing. We're up to the Ds now. We're reading the entire contents of the library."

"Don't you go to school?"

"What is school? We haven't reached the Ss yet."

"You must have done D for Dictionary," said Jim.

"What do you want to do with the computer disc?" asked Cain.

"Put it into someone's computer," said John. "And turn it on, that's all."

"No," said Jim. "Not a child."

"You want to put it into Fred's computer," said the child.

"A mind-reader," said John. "You can read people's minds."

"Some, not all. I cannot read the mind of my father."

"What number am I thinking of?" asked Jim.

"Twenty-three," said Cain.

"He's right," said Jim.

"Incredible," said John.

"Sixty-nine," said Cain.

"Pardon me?"

"Sixty-nine's the number you're thinking of"

"What a surprise," said Jim. "But you couldn't ..."

"Predict the numbers on the National Lottery? No."

"Shame," said Jim. "But incredible, none the less. Can your brother do this?"

"Abel can do other things."

"And Abel knows all about computers too?"

"Abel might not choose to help you. I will."

"Why?" asked Jim.

"Because," said Cain, "something wonderful is about to happen. I can feel it in the air. Can't you?"

Jim stared into the eyes of Cain. The golden eyes blinked, became a pair of amber eyes. The amber eyes of Suzy. Those marvellous, wonderful, beautiful eyes, that made Jim ache inside.

"Give me the disc," said Cain.

And Jim gave Cain the disc.

26.

"Who is he?" Suzy asked, over her bowl of Dilli ka sang ghosht.

"I don't know." Jim pushed nan bread into his mouth. "But he can read minds and he said to me exactly what you said to me when we were on the canal bridge."

"You're going to see this through now, aren't you?"

"Well, I have to, don't I? I'm part of it."

"You're a very big part of it. But what changed your mind?"

"Just that. That I am a big part of it. That one of my ancestors murdered the monk. That I found the scrolls. All of it. I can't walk away. I have to do it. I know that I do. But when it's done - if it gets done, and I get out of it in one piece I am going to ask you that question."

"I'll be waiting for you when you do. And the answer will probably be yes."

"Probably?"

"You have to ask it first. Do you want to come back to my flat after we've finished our meal?"

"For a cup of coffee?"

"Perhaps for more."

"Perhaps?"

"Probably for more."

"How could I refuse? But you remember what I told you."

"That doesn't matter."

"It does to me."

"You matter, Jim."

"I do?"

"You know you do."

"Suzy." Jim wiped crumbs from his chin.

"Yes, Jim?"

Jim took a very deep breath. "I'm in love with you," he said.

Suzy smiled. That fascinating mouth, those marvellous, wonderful, beautiful eyes. "I love you too," she said.

"No," said John. "Oh, no Jim, no Jim, no Jim, no."

They were in the Swan now.

Lunchtime of the next day.

"I couldn't help it," said Jim. "The time seemed right and it just came out. And she said she loved me too. She said, 'I love you too,' just like that. I got all knotted up in my throat then, and I knocked a bowl of Punjabi rajma right into her lap."

"Very romantic."

"Do you think so? She didn't seem to think so."

"And you went back to her flat?"

"We did, yes."

"And what happened?"

"We had a cup of coffee. Two cups in fact."

"And?"

"Biscuits," said Jim.

"And?"

"Just biscuits."

"Then you didn't, you know ... ?"

"No, John, we didn't."

"Jim, you have got to pull yourself together. All this soppy stuff is all right in its place. But if you don't do the business, you'll lose the woman."