Gaia said that she had a stomach ache so she sat on the wall watching us. She kept pulling her sleeves down so they came over her wrists and her hands and then wrapping her arms around her like she was cold, even though it was another hot, sunny, airless day. By lunch time she seemed to be feeling a little better. She ate a couple of mouthfuls from her plate, chewing steadily and staring into the distance, and then she turned to me suddenly and said, ‘So, what do you think they’re going to do now those men have died?’ ‘I don’t know. They don’t know how they died. I watched the news all night. They just said the same thing again and again. That their deaths were being treated as suspicious.’ ‘I don’t think someone killed them,’ Gaia said. I looked at her questioningly. ‘If no one killed them, how did they die?’ ‘I think,’ Gaia continued, and she lowered her voice to a whisper, ‘I think it had something to do with the buildings.’ ‘The buildings?’ ‘We had a bad feeling about them for a reason.
