train, I ivity and noise: sed instrus and arms sending messages in urgent semap and sloone crasone. Instead, as I arrived at tes and looked toion site, everyt and still.

        to see; t t     distance ainct. My feet , go. Lifting my rag t from my last visit, as I remembered it from Miss inter’s descriptions.

        My mind map e: I came to tly o. tood like a ed stage set, flattened into ts, a pair of domed forms floated on t, trunks t supported to teness bey years    t of s it oday to suppose t it    t ening try of t ed, it    s matical perfe, set in t of a demolition site, nor of a ruin, but of a act.

        ury, as insubstantial as ter suspended in to evaporate    ray of er sun.

        I broug close to my fad read time. I o meet Aurelius, but o find ? I could    seeing hin arm’s reach.

        I called out “o me.

        ‘hello!“

        Impossible to tell    or close by. “here are you?”

        I pictured Aurelius staring into t looking for a landmark.

        ‘I’m o a tree.“ the words were muffled.

        ‘So am I,“ I called back. ”I don’t tree as mine. You sound too far away.“

        ‘You sound quite near, though.“

        ‘Do I?    you stay walking, and I’ll find you!“

        ‘Rig plan! to to say,    I?    is to speak to order,    of time…    dismal .“

        And so Aurelius t aloud, o a cloud and follohe air.

        t is    me, pale in tery lig    Aurelius. I ing of my , and I stretc my    of view.

        ‘Aurelius?“ My voice sounded so my own ears.

        ‘Yes?“

        ‘Are you still there?“

        ‘Of course I am.“

        e tion.        Aurelius. It must    of t. Afraid of ed, I stood still, staring into to appear again.

        ‘A voice betened uro face , you’re as !“

        e oget, Aurelius seemed even taller and brray raincoat, I felt insubstantial.

        ‘how is your book going?“

        ‘It’s just    t. Intervieer. And research.“

        ‘today is researc?“

        ‘Yes.“

        ‘ do you o know?“

        ‘I just    to take some pograp though.“

        ‘You’ll get to see it properly     last long.“

        e came to a kind of    made a hedge.

        ‘hy do you e here, Aurelius?“

        e strolled on to to a space    mist. o a iced a sparkling in t. ture in to evaporate and ty gree. Our ered by.

        ion seemed so lost in time t I    even sure I , Aurelius answered. “I was born here.”

        I stopped abruptly. Aurelius    o catch him.

        ‘Aurelius!“ I took coat. ”Is it true? ere you really born here?“

        ‘Yes.“

        ‘hen?“

        range, sad smile. “On my birthday.”

        Unted, “Yes, but when?”

        ‘Sometime in January, probably. Possibly February. Possibly ty years ag kno.“

        I fro Mrs. Love and not    in ances ed ctle about a    even know hday?

        ‘Do you mean to tell me, Aurelius, t you are a foundling?“

        ‘Yes. t is t I am. A foundling.“

        I    for words.

        ‘One does get used to it, I suppose,“ ted t o e for his own loss.

        ‘Do you really?“

        ell me. “No, actually,” he said.

        iteps of invalids,     goopiary    t bushey were.

        ‘So it was Mrs. Love who…“ I began.

        ‘… found me. Yes.“

        ‘And your parents…“

        ‘No idea.“

        ‘But you kno was his house?“

        Aurelius so ts. ig expect oto uand. I    got any proof. But I do knoinue.

        ‘Sometimes you    kno yourself. t explain it.“

        I nodded, and Aurelius    on.

        ‘t I old me so, o er I looked it up in the local paper. Anyway—“

        akable ligelling sometremely important. A story so c o be dressed in casualo disguise its signifi case teurned out to be unsympatic.

        ‘Anye I got o myself. t about it. I knew.“

        it ness slip, alloo creep in. . “Obviously I don’t expeyoo believe it. I’ve no evidence as suces, and Mrs. Love’s vague memory of a smell of smoke—and my oion.”

        ‘I believe it,“ I said.

        Aurelius bit    me a wary sideways look.

        , edly onto a peninsula of intimacy, and I found myself on telling o my antly into sentences, long strings of sentences, bursting ieo fly from my tongue. As if t years planning for t.

        ‘I believe you,“ I repeated, my toing oo. Kno know. From before you    remember.“

        And t    in tant.

        ‘Did you see t, Aurelius?“

        o topiary pyramids and beyond. “See    see anything.”

        It     all.

        I turned back to Aurelius, but I    my    for fidences was gone.

        ‘ a birthday?“ Aurelius asked.

        ‘Yes. I’ve got a birthday.“

        All my unsaid    back to whese years.

        ‘I’ll make a note of it, sly. ”then I    send you a card.“

        I feigned a smile. “It’s ing up soon, actually. ”

        Aurelius opened a little blue notebook divided into months.

        ‘teentold e it do looked like a toothpi his huge hand.
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