From Banbury I took a bus. “Angelfield?” said to Angelfield. Not yet, any be different .”

    ‘Are then?“

    ‘Some old ruin to be a fancy el. t run a bus taff, but for no you can do is get off at t a mile, I reckon.“

    t mucreet reet. I  a dozen cottages, built in pairs. inctive feature stood out—a large yeree, a c for t part eacs neatly embroidered tcs rained artistry in its bricks neighbor like a mirror image.

    ttage  onto fields t ly defined udded rees. Farto my map,  as suc t tered for traffic, eit I sail I passed t cottage and came to a combined post office and general store.

    to topped at t-box. Small and fair, sruggling to stick stamps onto envelopes  dropping tucked under o put  taco a post at t to take er’s  sed. “I can do it! I can do it!” Sood on tiptoe and stretcestations, tossed to it and carried it across the road.

    ‘I told you so!“

    Boturned and launco a dased to a  ically so t t so close. I stooped to pick up t out too take it,  to step foruck  to bar her way and called, “Mum!”

    tcbox  , tom. Let ake it.” took t looking at me. “Say trained voices, turned time ted er up to reac me again, eyeing my camera y.

    Angelfield  a place where I could be invisible.

    Surned to follo totages.

    I chem go.

    ttaccion at random, made unpredictable celepaty. to tly familiar. I’d o c, fearful t t turn and catcaring, I pulled myself away.

    After a feo viees t only closed but o ts of ivy t  of te metales,