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her left hand, before allowing the ride to ease gently
     to a standstill.
    Glancing around to make sure she was still alone, she peered closely at one of the
     steel arms. She could see smears of the powder where her fingers had brushed the metal,
     but only because she knew it was there. It was faint and almost transparent even in
     this gloomy light. She doubted that anybody else would notice it; even if they did,
     she doubted whether it would cause any concern. Not yet, anyway.
    Next she walked to the slide and ran the back of her left hand over the metal handrails
     that children used to help them climb the steps. Again, the powdery residue that she
     smeared on the metal was barely discernible to a casual glance.
    Finally she moved to the swings and ran the fingers of her left hand along the guard
     rails that younger children would cling to as they swung, allowing the chains of the
     swings for older children to slide between her fingers, removing the powder that lay
     in the gaps. She stopped at the last swing and sat, setting it in motion with graceful
     movements of her slim legs before allowing the swing to slow of its own accord. She
     stared out at the city, barely aware of the noise of traffic and distant cries of
     children in some school yard.
    The breeze freshened and she clutched her jacket more tightly to her. A light shower
     should have little effect on her handiwork. More persistent rain or a heavy downpour
     may undo it, but it rarely rained heavily in L.A., even in December.
    A young woman entered the park, clutching the hand of a young child of about three
     or four. The child was clad in a padded green anorak and matching woolly hat with
     ear flaps secured by a ribbon tied beneath his chin. He tugged at his mother’s hand,
     eager to reach the slide.
    Diane watched as the child ascended the steps to the top of the slide under the alert
     eye of the woman, tightly gripping the handrail as he climbed. He reached the top
     and clambered awkwardly—as though he wasn’t accustomed to being hampered by an anorak—onto
     his bottom. Before he pushed off, the boy wiped the palm of his hand across his nose.
    “Jarod!” the woman called sharply. “How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t use
     your hands to wipe your nose.”
    Jarod pushed himself off and swooped down the slide, almost shooting off the end but
     managing to arrest his forward motion just in time by planting his legs either side
     of the chute. He staggered to a halt in a series of short, stuttering steps. He turned
     a flushed, happy face towards his mother who was by his side in an instant, wiping
     at his nose with a handkerchief. Then she wiped his hands before allowing him to toddle
     back to the steps for another go. Before replacing the handkerchief in the pocket
     of her coat, the woman wiped her own nose briefly.
    Diane stood and left the park without a backward glance at the mother and child. She
     turned to the north, towards Hollywood.
    She kept as far as possible to the more populated areas: pedestrian thoroughfares,
     shopping malls, parks. As she walked, she’d stretch out a hand from time to time and
     let it trail along handrails or across handles to doorways. She entered shops selling
     trinkets and browsed for a few minutes, picking items up and replacing them. She made
     purchases, extracting notes from her knapsack, fingering them as though deliberating
     whether or not to proceed, before handing them over. Her purchases she deposited into
     the next litter bin she passed.
    Occasionally she’d stop and rummage in her knapsack, thrusting her hands deep inside,
     fiddling with something before continuing on her way. She passed a homeless beggar
     and paused to deposit some coins into his outstretched fingers.
    It took her a couple of hours to reach Hollywood. After visiting the Chinese Theatre,
     she stopped in a bistro to eat, borrowing the salt cellar from an adjoining table
     and returning it to be used by