NB: This takes place prior to the events in 'An Ungodly Child'
“You were smoking in bed last night.” Harold glances across the toast rack at his mother in quiet accusation.
“I don’t smoke, dear. You know that.” An elegant hand spreads a smear of marmalade across wholegrain. Clear green eyes regard her thirty-four year old son. “How could you tell, anyway? You went to bed long before I did.”
“I was in the attic.” Harold looks away from her. He has never been able to meet that clear gaze; his mother’s stare has always made him feel guilty. He has never made the connection but the statue of the Virgin Mary at St. Just’s, where he attended service every week for seven years, was modelled on his mother.
“Playing with your trains?”
“I might have been.” Harold glances at the clock. “I have to go or I’ll be late.”
As his van coughs into life and Doppler-shifts toward town,
“Good.” Lucifer looks into those green eyes. “Today our son will meet an angel.”