‘I thought you’d gone full Christmas for a minute there.’
‘AUNTIE CARMEN, COME ON!’
The children had burst into the maze.
Carmen looked at Oke.
He looked tall and relaxed in the cold grey light, a wrist of simple grey beads the only jewellery he wore; he didn’t even wear a watch. He had found from somewhere a large old jumper – a charity shop, maybe – but it was good quality and suited him. He had also somehow managed to lay his hands on a long scarf that came down past his waist.
He stood out, she thought, from the people streaming around him; drew glances, particularly from the women, for his tall rangy figure, his face so thoughtful as he took in the crowds thronging in brightly coloured padded jackets, everyone in bobble hats, happy faces and excited children racing everywhere. Behind the little train, the great cliff face of Edinburgh buildings rose in front of him. To his left was a great spinning swing that went high in the air, up to the height of the Scott Monument, and every thirty seconds or so it would spin and the screaming would start, regular as clockwork, then it would descend again. The lights of the fairground attractions flashed behind him.
‘Do you want to come in the tree maze?’ said Carmen, displaying the tickets. ‘If it’s not … forbidden or something.’
He smiled.
‘It is not forbidden. In fact, it’s practically research.’
Inside the Christmas tree maze was rather lovely. The sounds and lights of the rest of the huge fair had faded away. The children had grabbed the small cards they had to stamp to win a prize and vanished down the long rows of dark Christmas trees, sprinkled with snow and hung with lights.
‘So tell me about firs,’ said Carmen.
He smiled.
‘The Romans put them up. For Saturnalia. In mid-December.’
‘Before Christmas.’
‘Before Christmas, yes. A lot of things change over the years.’
‘Cor,’ said Carmen. ‘Bronagh is right about a lot of stuff.’
‘They predate dinosaurs.’
‘Really?Wow. How long do they live?’
He shrugged. ‘Five hundred years, average. Up to a thousand.’
Carmen looked at him.
‘And we chop them down and put them in pots.’
She shook her head.
‘AUNTIE CARMEN! Phoebe took my card!’ Jack was thundering.
‘I didn’t! It got stuck!’ Phoebe’s voice could be heard, but she couldn’t be seen. ‘AND NOW I AM LOST!’
Carmen settled Jack down.
‘Could you go find her? And then stamp her card too?’
‘But why? She always fusses.’
‘Because she is very small and you are extremely smart,’ said Carmen.
Jack pondered this for a second.
‘Really?’ he said finally. Then he glanced up at Oke.
