+ Being a wickie at St Catherine’s Lighthouse had its good points, Marcus thought. His wife, Ariel, visited him once a week, on Shabbat. The lighthouse grounds also doubled as a meteorological outstation, which occupied Marcus’s time in a way that never grew tedious. During daylight hours, six days a week, he sent hourly reports to the Meteorological Office in London by teleprinter. The lighthouse required its own machinery and regular supplies, but Marcus was never tempted to divert any fuel for personal use. He had no motorcar, after all. He did, however, keep an eye out for neighbors who did. From time to time he trudged up from Undercliff to Niton when he needed to shop. On rare occasions, Joshua took Ariel by ferry and bus on such modest holidays as a wickie could afford. Sometimes they went to the beautiful Lake District in the northwest, camping among the high, treeless hills called fells, which qualified as mountains in England. But it was on those holidays that he missed Remiel and Samael most of all.