‘Mother,’ the child said, ‘do you believe there’s a God?’ The question scared Mrs Fellows. She rocked furiously up and down and said, ‘Of course.’ ‘I mean the Virgin Birth—and everything.’ ‘My dear, what a thing to ask. Who have you been talking to?’ ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I’ve been thinking, that’s all.’ She didn’t wait for any further answer; she knew quite well there would be none—it was always her job to make decisions.
