And there was the trouble with honesty and talking to people, staring him right in the face. His face fell slightly, and he finished his wine before answering, to give himself time to fill the obvious gaps. Just because Gabriel was - what was the term - 'laid back' did not mean he would understand.

"You won't be impressed," he said at last. "But . . . I lived in London for a time. Ah, centuries, actually. I had a little shop and I did my job, I did God's will, but I also lived." Tilting his glass towards himself, he thought longingly of his routine. "Habits were so important," he said thoughtfully. "And . . . after everything I moved to the shore. I had a little cottage. Habits, again. But after the Apocalypse I wasn't so afraid of the repercussions."

Saying 'I' instead of 'we' was throwing him off. He waved over the nearest server and ordered a scotch, then glanced questioning at Gabriel.