train, I ivity and noise: sed instructions 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 , gone t. Lifting my racing 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 beneaty years  t of s it oday to suppose t it  t ening try of t ed, it  s matical perfection, 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 face and 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 next to 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 urned to face , you’re as !“

    e oget, Aurelius seemed even taller and broader t-gray raincoat, I felt insubstantial.

    ‘how is your book going?“

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

    ‘today is researc?“

    ‘Yes.“

    ‘ do you need to 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 come 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 ago, roug kno.“

    I fro Mrs. Love and not  in ances ed ctle about ances t  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 comfort me for his own loss.

    ‘Do you really?“

    ell me. “No, actually,” he said.

    iteps of invalids,   gone. topiary  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 understand. I  got any proof. But I do knoinue.

    ‘Sometimes you can 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 casualness to disguise its significance in case tener turned out to be unsympatic.

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

    it ness slip, alloo creep in. . “Obviously I don’t expect anyone to 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 ience to fly from my tongue. As if t years planning for t.

    ‘I believe you,“ I repeated, my tongue ting oo. Kno know. From before you can 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 nerve. t for confidences 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 can send you a card.“

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

    Aurelius opened a little blue notebook divided into months.

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