BOOK 1: SERENDIPITY / CH. 14:THOUGHTFUL CHICKEN

TUESDAY EVENING, 20TH JUNE

“Welcome, Arwood, welcome, Hannah. Not too hard to find this place, I hope? Sarah said that after I'd cooked for her three days running, she wanted to cook. She's just in the kitchen finishing things off, I believe. I've been banished.”

“Too many helpful suggestions?”

“No, actually she said it was because she wanted it to be a surprise.”

“While Sarah's busy, John, you told me that you and Sarah wanted us to come and help you think some things through, and you claimed it was only peripherally about you two going out together. But here you are seemingly spending huge parts of your days together, so I'm pretty sure you two are serious about each other. Therefore, I'm confused. What is so personal you won't talk about it except face to face, and yet you want Hannah here too, but isn't to do with your relationship?”

Sarah came from the kitchen. “Well, our relationship is going very well, thank you, though we're a little surprised about some aspects of it. Welcome, Arwood, and Hannah I presume? The food will be finished in a few minutes, it just needs to simmer now.”

“Yes, hello, Sarah, I'm Hannah. And is that ring on your finger the ring I think it is?”

John answered that one. “You've seen it before, Hannah, on Sally's finger. But I don't know if I told you the story about the proud jeweller whose little girl had made such a lovely ring on her first try. Let me introduce you to his little girl, all grown up now.”

“Sarah, Mr. Smith's daughter? You're the other survivor, the one whose scream saved John's life?”

“Oooh, you're good at this Hannah. Yes, I'm Sarah the survivor.”

“So you two have known each other for years and have now fallen in love and got engaged?”

“Not quite, Arwood. We didn't know each other until just recently; John heard I was still having problems after the attack, pulled some strings and got me along to the Institute.”

“As soon as I saw her data on the unsolved cases list — it didn't actually name her, but female victims of terrorist attacks aren't exactly common, I was absolutely certain that I needed to help her find healing. Kate — you've met her I think, my boss — said I was acting as if I was in love with her before first sight.”

“At first John was going to be my psycho-counsellor, but we quickly decided that it wasn't going to work. He had incredibly strong protective feelings for me, and for some reason I found it, no let me correct that, I find it impossible not to trust him entirely. It was as though we'd known each other for years, although we'd only just met.”

John added, “We did try to stay sane and get to know each other like normal human beings, but then it got even stranger. On Friday Sarah rebuked me for disobeying the Lord, using the exact words God gave me years ago. On Saturday we found that Sarah had had two occasions in her past when she had knowledge about offenders. One led to a conviction and the other time the university ignored her warning and he went on to abduct some students before he was caught.”

Sarah continued, “We had two ideas, one that the Lord had given me three prophesies, two of which were during times I'd been pretty far from Him, and the second was that I somehow could hear people's thoughts. All the while I was falling deeper and deeper in love with John, and he was nobly trying to stay sane and reasonable, pointing out that it was crazy to be in love after meeting twice in five days. “He started wobbling on that front when we both heard God saying that he'd give me Sally's wedding ring one day. Later on Saturday, we found that I could hear intentions and strong emotions if John held my hand and they concerned me closely enough. Which sort of fits the accusations I'd made. Then I did something I probably shouldn't have done and prayed silently that my abilities wouldn't drive us apart, and that John'd be able to hear what I was thinking if I could hear him. John heard my unspoken prayer, and since that point we've been given the gift or ability in stronger and equal measure. We are both able to hear almost spoken thoughts if we're in physical contact with someone, or if someone makes a decision that concerns us.”

“Well, urm, I take it that you're giving God the credit for all this.”

Arwood floundered. “But you sound like you're only part way though. Is there more?”

“Well, the thing I have with crowds isn't fear as you probably assumed, it's more that I pick up some kind of noise from the crowd. If there are too many people then it becomes too loud. At church it was a bit like that, but during the worship, oh it was truly beautiful. And during the sermon there were surges when you called for action but it was quiet other times.”

John chipped in “My present guess is that somehow Sarah is hearing the mood of the crowd or something like that, and if it's a big crowd then there are too many different moods. But yesterday, things got even more strange.”

“Some things triggered memories and I realised that my parents knew about my gifts, and my mother shared them. Then I got upset at John for going off on a tangent and had a bit of a gloomy wallow in my inadequacies. At which point dear John here discovered a deeper, scarier part or mode of the gift the Lord has given us.”

John added “If we sort of relax our minds while focussed on someone, then we can tell exactly what they're thinking. As we started to discover this we had what you might call a shared revelation from the Holy Spirit concerning how we could use this gift, a confirmation that we would marry and a prophesy about what'll happen to my boss when she stops resisting the Gospel.” He took a breath, letting that sink in. “You know the Institute is interested in the weird and wonderful, so Kate called for a volunteer to have their mind read and, well, I don't know if you know Ed, but he should be back at his church on Sunday after a decade or more away.”

“We'd really like advice on the ethics of using this gift.” Sarah said, “It's potential dynamite. It could turn into a riot if word gets out in the wrong way. We certainly don't want to be used as thought police, or to do industrial espionage, but the scary thing is that the capability is there. But helping Ed understand he is truly forgiven, well that was a great privilege and we'd love to be used like that again.”

“Wow, John. There's a lot of mind-blowing stuff in there. Can I focus on the easier stuff for now... So, rather than deny your feelings and the promptings of the Spirit, you decided to get engaged?”

“Yes. I wasn't at all sure if I should give Sarah this ring, but when it turned out that she made it, well, Sally wore it for a while, but it's certainly easy to think of it as Sarah's ring.”

“I hope we've not ruined your appetite. We thought you'd like some time to process all of this and that food might help. I can't tell you what it is though, Sarah's not told me.”

“It's a surprise. Well, chicken and herbs and spices, that's supposed to be a secret recipie. But talking of mysterious food, have you tried John's pseudo pizza?” Sarah asked light heartedly.

“No, is it good?” Hannah asked.

“Don't feed it to your dog, he'll stop loving you.”

“It's not good at all. It was the fastest way of getting some carbohydrates into a young lady who spent half the night reading Scripture and then got up at dawn to make herself prettier, forgetting breakfast on the way.”

“When was this?” Arwood asked.

“Friday night, Saturday morning. John had pointed out that my silly attitude to God wasn't logical, and I wanted to sort things out. So I read a couple of gospels, Acts, and part of Romans before I fell asleep.”

“John, I don't know if you realise, but you've got a fairly unique fiancée here. There aren't many people who have ever read the whole of a gospel through in one sitting, let alone two plus Acts, and part of Romans.”

“I know, there are lots of impressive things about my Sarah here. You should have heard her emotive speech on ‘how could you contemplate loving someone who loves you right back for years and yet refuse to marry them just because you're not in full working order.’ Very convincing, I thought.”

“And are you convinced that it'd work out OK?”

“Well, I don't think it's ideal, I'd go on to say that it'd be a real potential disaster for most couples, not having that bond. But with this mind-reading thing... In many ways we have a greater intimacy available. We can see what the other's thinking, and um, the feedback is such that we've decided that we mustn't give each other close hugs or long kisses. Holding hands is probably plenty intimate enough for courting.”

“I'm happy you two have found each other then. But just a modified standard pastoral warning... What do you have in common? If you met someone else with this gift, and thus John or Sarah wasn't unique, what would become the uniquely special thing about them?”

John, surprised at the question, started rather feebly, “Well, we both like to cook, we both work at the same place now, we've had some unique experiences together, we've both survived the same terrorist attack, we both like walking, we're both committed to God, we're both committed to each other.”

Sarah added, “We've both got high moral standards, money isn't a problem, and won't be even if we both lose our jobs at the Institute.” when Arwood raised his eyebrows, she explained, “John's got income from renting out his parents' house and owns his outright, I own my house too, so we could rent out two houses. Plus, John here hasn't exactly been spending his whole salary for the last five years, and assuming I keep the job at the Institute for another 363 days, then the trust fund my parents set up falls into my not very willing hands. John hasn't asked how much, which I really respect him for, nor have I checked exactly. But I have some idea. At least as long as we're both employed, I'll probably have the trustees stay on and use the money to support things I think are good causes. I'm not going to give it all away in one go, that doesn't strike me as sensible. But I don't intend to let it change the way we live either.”

“Sarah, you're full of surprises!” Hannah exclaimed.

“You mean you had me pegged as penniless ex-student stunned by the rich benefactor? John almost fell into the same mistake, ‘till he saw my childhood playthings. Which reminds me. Hannah, John will confirm that I sometimes do impulsive things for no apparent reason. But this isn't one. I'd like you to have a replacement ring, and I wouldn't want to wear one of these, but I think you could.” And she reached out with the little velvet roll that John had seen the day before which held her rings, and unrolled it in front of Hannah.

“Hannah, what ring?” Arwood asked.

Hannah, with tears of gratitude in her eyes ignored her husband and asked, “Sarah, what did you hear?”

“Just as you were coming in and we shook hands you had a very strong thought, ‘Oh I wish I hadn't lost my ring, but there's no way we could replace it.’”

“Not your mother's ring?” Arwood asked.

“Yes, Arwood, my mother's emerald ring.”

“How did you lose it?” John asked, remembering the ring that was indeed missing from its normal place on her finger. [A beautiful gesture Sarah, I think it looked like this, my love.]

“I was silly. I don't like having jewellery just sitting in a box weeks or months on end. So, I normally wear it at church or when we go visiting. But I forgot to take it off when we went on that ramble a few months ago, and I ended up fishing little Tommy out of that stream I don't know how many times. I guess it got loose because of the cold water, because it wasn't there on my finger when I got home. The insurers said it wasn't covered.”

The roll had several emerald rings, and Sarah had quickly picked the ring that was the closest match to John's memory. “This isn't the best emerald, Hannah, but this is an emerald, and it's yours if you want it. I hardly ever wear real jewels, and while these were fun to play with as a little girl, I haven't worn any of them in years.”

“Arwood, do you know what my beloved said about these rings when we found them yesterday? She said, ‘Oh, I used to play with these, they aren't worth much.'”

“I also said that they were my dowry, and there was no way I'd sell them, but you chose to ignore that bit.”

“Sarah, I don't think I can accept. I'm sorry, but it's too much. Especially if this is your dowry.”

“Oh, me and my big mouth! Hannah, I really don't wear them. My parents raised me not to flaunt our wealth, and I guess it stuck too well. If you really won't accept it, then please think of it as a loan, OK? If you ever find your ring then I'll accept it back. And don't worry about insurance, I’ll just tell the trustees it's on loan to you and they'll make sure it's covered. All risks.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Thank you, Sarah, thank you so much. I think that it'll need adjusting a lot though if you wore them as a child.”

“Oh, they were always too big for my fingers. Here, let me see. Yes, it needs resizing, but not by much, I think. I'll get the things out after dessert.”

“You'll get the things out? What things?” asked John.

“You don't think that Daddy would let me start making rings if I couldn't do basic stuff like resizing-up, do you?”

“I've no idea, Sarah, no idea what is basic and what isn't. I've never seen anyone making jewellery.”

“Oh. Sorry. If you're careful, then it's pretty easy to stretch a ring with a simple band like this. Making it smaller is much harder — you need to cut and rejoin, which is a pain when there are stones to take out.”

“And you've kept all your father's tools?” Hannah asked.

“Most of them, yes.”

“And you have the skills too, so why didn't you look for work as a jeweller or as a jeweller’s assistant?”

“Oh John, what did you never ask me?”

“Urm, in context, what your part time job was?”

“Exactly. But to be successful in that trade you need customers, and customers mean a lot of passers by and a shop and stock.”

“And those last two need capital, which is locked away in the trust fund. Not to mention the crowded street that needs a mind which can stand crowds outside.”

“Yes, exactly. Arwood, your plate's empty. Would you like more?”

“It's very tasty, Sarah, but no, thank you. The funny thing is the smell is really familiar, but the taste isn't. You said it was a secret recipe?”

“On the recipe card it's called 'Mama Ng's secret chicken recipe', and the footnote says 'no sharing without permission'.”

Hannah laughed, “Now we know why it smells familiar to you, Arwood!”

“Urm, yes. How your mother got hold of Mama's recipe, though...” he shook his head. Then glanced at Hannah. “Could be an interesting evening.”

“Of course it could. As long as you don't go staying up writing sermons 'till midnight, and you'd better not. Family members all call Arwood's mother Mama Ng, Sarah. And this recipe has a bit of a reputation...”

“Whispered about by the young,” Arwood said, “joked about by the married, but rarely actually tasted.” Arwood said.

“She claims we don't need it, and she's forgotten the recipe anyway,” Hannah said.

“I take it it's supposed to be an aphrodisiac?” John asked.

“Yes, indeed. Thoughtful Chicken is what it's called in the family. And given how you're sharing your thoughts already — that's what it's supposed to do — it's probably totally wasted on you two.”

“Oh... but for Daddy...” Sarah said, blushing deeply.

“If it lives up to its reputation, it's quite possible it would have helped him understand your mother better, yes. Sarah, you've just given us a demonstration that you could hear Hannah's thoughts, but how did you know which ring?”

“John told me when he reached for my hand. Actually, he sent me a memory. I didn't know we could do that.”

“Me neither. I'd assumed you'd need to have a look at what I was thinking.”

“So these are the two modes you're talking about?”

Sarah answered, “Yes. One is like having ears. In the right circumstances we just can't avoid hearing, but it's like listening to someone's internal commentary, you know, you think 'that's odd' but don't say it, if there's contact then we'll hear. The other one is more like pointing a telescope at someone and having a snoop at them.”

“Or like putting a bug in their office or bedroom,” added John, “only none of those is close really, because those only get actions or words, and we can see thoughts.”

“Yet you're, urm, climbing into each other's minds quite a lot?”

“I wouldn't say that, no. We've done it inadvertently once, when John found out about it. With Ed, we both decided we needed to agree how to respond to what we'd seen. And we've looked at memories together, to reconcile our different recollections.”

“And then I invited Sarah to look at my memory of the ring, but somehow sent it to her instead.”

“So, even though you two are hopelessly in love and want to know about each other more and more, you're only using this thing on each other by mutual agreement?”

“Yes.”

“So why do you need input about the ethics of it? You seem to be doing well enough.”

“Probably because of Ed.”

“I don't want to pry, but can you help me understand that better?” Arwood asked.

Sarah started the account. “OK, urm... Kate asked if anyone had a memory they didn't mind sharing, in our little show and tell at the office, and Ed, somewhat sceptical, volunteered. Only he wasn't trying to think of something particular, he was trying to set up interference. And we could see that, and the fear and revulsion he had that we'd see what was under that, which of course we did. A sin he'd repented of and made right but never felt forgiven for.”

John took up the story. “And that feeling of unforgiveness had driven him from the church. But seeing that he'd repented, we were able to tell him he was forgiven.”

Sarah pushed her point home. “But what if he'd been hiding something else? Say that he'd, I don't know, poisoned his wife. And if we did find that out, would we be right to ask him where he'd buried the evidence, for example? If we did then we'd probably see the memory even if he didn't say.”

“Actually, Sarah's told police where evidence was before, with the child molester.”

“Yes, he must have thought something like, ‘I'll go there and destroy my picture collection’ when the police arrived. I'd pressed my panic button when he wanted to play doctors and nurses with me.”

“He didn't know you had one?” Hannah asked.

“I guess not. Mine is well hidden, maybe he thought they're all big pocket filling things.”

“They're not?”

“No. The electronics are tiny, the rest is batteries for the torch or screamer or whatever else they add on. I guess most people wouldn't want something tiny.”

“But your dad put it in a ring for you?” guessed John.

“Actually, it's surgically implanted.”

“Oooh. I imagine that's not cheap,” Hannah said.

“No, but I'm glad it was done. It kept the so-called Reverend Williamson’s filthy hands off me.”

There was a moment of shocked silence. “Harry Williamson, who used to be the youth pastor at Bakers Street Community?”

“Yes, didn't you know about it? Surely it was in the news? I was a friend of their foster daughter.”

“I knew he vanished from the scene and that there'd been a scandal. His wife said something about him being tempted into sin and that he'd be going away to stay with friends until he'd sorted it out.”

“Staying with friends is an interesting euphemism for being sent to jail.”

“Well, that explains why he's not a youth pastor now. I know he was gone for longer than we expected, but they're back together now.”

“How? I don't understand. I was told that he'd been sent to jail so I didn't need to be afraid any more.”

“I really don't know. Was he found guilty of some lesser offence, maybe?”

Sarah was clearly upset. “The word of a hysterical girl not being counted against the respected community member?”

“I wonder. Should we look at the court record? Did you actually testify?” Arwood asked.

“They took a statement, but I think my aunt — my guardian — didn't want me to undergo any more stress.”

“And you'd probably started screaming in crowds.” John supplied.

“Yes. Probably.”

“Which we know now is unconnected, but back then...”

“I was a mentally ill girl with severe traumatic disturbances. His foster daughter — she'd been with them for years and loved him like a father — probably defended him to police and said he just tickled her and avoided saying where, and so all they had to go on were the photos he wanted to destroy. For all I know the ones the police got were bath-time pictures of my friend and easily explained away as a total lapse of judgement, but not real evidence of abuse.”

Arwood answered, “So now he's about on the street, either a reformed character after the scare of his life, or a stealthy predator who is currently laying low because the police are checking up on him or who is choosing his victims more carefully.”

“And should we meet him, then Sarah and I both possibly have the ability to determine which. If we investigate without warning, ask questions that get him to think about the right subject, we almost certainly could, unless he's able to keep his thoughts away from the subject at every level. But should we?”

“That's the sort of question we're asking you to help us answer,” added Sarah. “We'd love to be told a categoric ‘no, you're not the police,’ but on the other hand, is it our moral duty to let the police know we exist and let them draft us in on serious cases? Or should we let the Institute publish its peer reviewed research papers and so on, so that the politicians can have their debates and some sort of consensus be reached. Laws made, and so on. The only problem is that the consensus might be, ‘burn the evil mind-readers.’”

John added, “Furthermore, we are certain that this second, prying mode is a spiritual gift. I'm tempted to label it the gift of discernment, but haven't looked up all the occurrences or the Greek to see if that's a valid exegesis. If it is a spiritual gift, it should be used for the building up of the church, not just catching villains. Perhaps things like helping Ed, but I suspect that Ed wouldn't have approached us back then any more than he would have approached his pastor — he was too terrified of being denounced.”

“What we could do is wander down the street or the aisles and give people a message that matches their thoughts and resounds in their minds as though it were a message from the Lord. But we won't try that. It would make disciples based on deception. That would be a terrible misuse of this gift, an approach worthy of the father of lies.”

“But the woman at the well? Isn't that what Jesus did?” asked Hannah.

“Maybe, but neither of us are the second member of the Trinity, nor sinless. We'd make mistakes,” Sarah replied.

“But there is the possibility that if our gifts become publicised then people will use them to undermine the uniqueness of Christ. I'm just glad we can't walk on water or do the bread and fish thing.”

“Enough! Please have mercy on this poor man's brain, that's too many questions at once.”

“Sorry, Arwood.”

“Let's deal with the crime-busting thing first. What happens with bugging, electronic interception, things like that?”

“Court order's needed first. Praise God for that precedent!” John felt incredibly relieved.

“But that's different to this,” objected Sarah.

“Yes. This is more invasive. We have a long history of the police or the state having the ability to listen to telephone conversations, to listen to what people are saying in private, and not using it. Restricting itself in the interests of privacy, even if it stopped some crime. It has been resisted except in totalitarian states. Therefore we don't do it to people without their agreement or without a court order.”

“And since the courts don't know about us, no court orders. And since we don't want the publicity or the mob, we don't go and approach the court saying we can do this? OK John, I agree.”

“I actually think we've made a mistake this evening, Sarah.”

“I shouldn't have offered Hannah the ring, should I? I gave away her secret. I'm sorry, Hannah.”

“No harm done, Sarah. It was, is, a lovely thought.”

“Just that it shouldn't have been in front of Arwood, should it? Sorry. With another couple, in another situation, it could have caused trouble.”

“What shall we do? It's going to be hard to never respond to things we overhear,” John wondered aloud.

“Gloves?” suggested Hannah, half jokingly.

“It might come to that, I suppose.” Sarah answered. “I wonder if lace ones would work. Bring back that elegant age.”

“I'm lost, help!” Arwood pleaded. “how did we get onto lace gloves? I'm still trying to think ethical and theological dilemmas.”

“So are we, dear. It's just that some of them go away if Sarah revives the old fashion of ladies wearing gloves in public. Maybe not just ladies.”

“Give it a few days after the Institute publishes its first paper on the subject, leak summaries in the right directions and I can see all the fashion pundits recommending them as a must-have.” Sarah enthused.

“Evening gloves for the men, I suppose, or maybe leather?” Hannah mused.

“Hmm, one too old opera house, the other too intimidating. Maybe some kind of sporting wear?” John pondered.

“Gloves would certainly help you two not intercept thoughts accidentally, and a strict ethic of fully informed consent before you scan someone would solve that issue too, wouldn't it?” Hannah added.

“As for how we use it to build up the church... I truly don't know,” Arwood pondered.

“Arwood, can I ask you to talk to Kate about this some time? I think it would be good to set up some kind of ethics committee, sworn agreements, that sort of thing.”

“Yes, I can see that working. Maybe get a lawyer involved too.”

“That sounds like a very good idea,” John agreed.

“Quick private chat, please, John.” Sarah held out her hand, then whipped it away quickly, “Wow.”

“Sorry Sarah, I don't think you're getting a goodbye kiss tonight,” John said.

“No.”

“You both look like you've been hit by lightning or something,” Hannah said. “What happened?”

“I really hope it's the chicken,” Sarah said. “And that it wears off. I like holding John's hand.”

“We sometimes get a bit of feedback,” John said, “Our emotions responding to the others. This was...”

“Like the volume's been turned up from one to twelve,” Sarah said. “And either my mental ears are still ringing or I'm still feeling John's feelings.”

“And I'm still feeling yours, as though we were holding hands lightly. I imagine that we'll need to avoid each other.”

“Would you like to do the dishes while I do the ring?” she asked, hearing his determination not to let this feedback distort their love for one another into

something impure.

“I'm going to try the other mode, if that's OK.” John said, “We don't get feedback then, do we?”

“You mean focussing on me?” Sarah asked, “Urm, if you think that's wise.”

“See every temptation the feedback's given you? Probably not wise, is it? I'll try focussing on something else.”

He tried focussing on the ground, but there was nothing there, and the sky, which didn't work either, nor did focussing this mode on a Bible passage. He rejected the idea of focussing on God, quite sure that it would be wrong to try to read the mind of his creator. He tried focussing on love, and found Sarah, struggling with the near-feedback. He tried focussing on joy and with growing frustration found Sarah again; although at least the frustration dampened down the growing feedback. He focussed on peace and found it. Just how you direct your mind's eye towards an abstract noun, he really wasn't sure. But there it was. An almost tangible peace and tranquility, washing away his frustrations and worries — such as a child might find in a parent's embrace. He found he could focus on it fully and have no awareness of the physical world, and it needed no effort to stay there. He let himself drift there passively for a moment, and then withdrew, strengthened. As he did, he felt sure in his heart that he didn't need to go so deep to draw on this strong peace, but that it would be there for him.

He opened his eyes and found is view of the room had changed dramatically. He seemed to be lying on the floor, Sarah's face and hair filled his vision and could feel her 's hair tickling his nose. He also felt Sarah's concern. He smiled reassuringly at her.

“John? What happened? You just collapsed!”

“I'm fine; though I guess I shouldn't have focussed on it so hard. Peace God said, and we didn't understand nearly well enough. But, urm, I guess you should sit down first.”

“Could you explain a bit better, John?” Arwood asked.

“I think I've just been in contact with the peace of God.”

“His peace He gave to us,” Sarah said, as she understood, “And judging by the glimpses I'm catching from him, it is better than all understanding, and guards our hearts and minds, so we need not worry.”

Standing up, John said, “He told us ‘peace,’ and we understood it in the sense of 'don't worry,' But that's not the real meaning; I'm sure this is it.”

Sarah nodded, wobbling a little, as she tasted a little peace herself “It's even sillier than that, because John had had the feeling that my problems with crowds were over, but we'd forgotten that. I'm pretty sure that with this to hang on to, I don't need to worry too much about crowds any more.” Laughing, she added, “Failing anything else, I can have a total rest in it like John did, and he can be the gentleman and catch me as I swoon.” At which point, she did; he caught her, just.

“Sarah seems to be quite impulsive.” Hannah said, as John carried her to the sofa.

“Urm, yes.” John agreed. “Captivating, too.”

“If you tell anyone you're not enjoying being her captive, I'll call you a liar,” Arwood said. “You're wrapped wound her little finger, aren't you?”

“It's such a nice finger,” John replied with a grin.

Relaxed, and aware of the physical world once more, Sarah asked, “So, on that subject, shall we go and measure that finger of yours, Hannah?”