Excerpt: Theophanies and other embarrassments

    “I found out who those three girls you were ogling last Saturday are.”
    “That wasn’t me, that was your Uncle Jonathan,” Steve said neutrally. “I was sitting with you.”
    “Him, too,” she agreed. “They are Bridget, patron saint of Ireland.”
    Steve was confused. “I thought that was Patrick,” he said.
    “Him, too,” she agreed. “But so is Bridget.”
    “I thought your Uncle Jonathan said something about a goddess.”
    “Yes, she’s a goddess too.”
    “Not a saint?”
    “The christians stole her from the pagans, and made her goddess festival into a saint’s day.”
    “Nasty.”
    “Anyway, she’s the goddess of fire, and poetry and healing and inspiration and stuff like that. And there are three of her.”
    “Three?”
    “All called Bridget. Three sisters.”
    “So the three girls are one goddess?”
    “The christians probably pinched that idea, too.”
    “You’re not telling me that those three ordinary girls are a goddess? What’s she doing in Brighton anyway?”
    “Hove, actually. I’m not telling you anything, except that’s what Uncle Jonathan meant. And I don’t think they were any more ordinary than the werewolf. Or the vampire. They were just pretending.”
    “A goddess pretending to be an ordinary person?” Steve thought for a moment. “Three ordinary people?”
    “They do that a lot, I believe. Gods and goddesses that is. Go around knocking on people’s doors pretending to be ordinary people.”
    “I’ve never met a goddess before.”
    “How would you know?” Emma asked him. “For all you know, I might be a goddess in disguise, pretending to be an ordinary person.”
    “Are you?”
    “No.”
    “I didn’t think so. I can’t imagine a goddess doing a physics degree.”
    “Why not? You’re doing one!”
    “Yes, but I’m not a god either.”
    “Now he tells me,” Emma said sarcastically.