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one of the young men, perhaps in his late teens. The Wind in the Willows suddenly seemed to have lost its charm and Lily was getting his full attention. He kept turning to stare at her, then looking away again, as if he were not quite certain of where he wanted his attention to be focused. She watched him cautiously, and as she looked more closely she felt a tremble run through her, not fear exactly, but a shiver of something; it tingled through her, making her shudder.
    He was fey.
    It wasn’t possible, of course – it had to be her imagination, but he turned towards her again, a slow deliberate motion and then stood, just staring at her, statue still, as if he was hoping that if he stood still enough no-one would notice him. The young woman who had been reading, stopped and told him to sit down, a polite request, which he totally ignored. He began to move forwards, ignoring the protest of the two carers, urging him to come back, and moved towards Lily, still staring hard at her. He seemed nervous, not to say terrified, edging towards her as if she were some kind of alien creature that he wanted to investigate, without getting too close. One of the carers, a slight woman, with a pinched, but pleasant face, came and tried to drag him back, but he shrugged her off easily, making incoherent noises and protests of ‘No’ and kept moving inexorably towards Lily.
    “Connor, love, you need to come back with the others,” the slip of a woman said, dragging on his arm. She was half his size and had no chance of restraining him.
    “No,” he said again, pushing her away, but not too roughly, just a nudge to get her to back off, the way one would ease back a child or animal that was getting too boisterous. One thing was certain, this boy was determined that nothing was going to stop him from getting to Lily.
    “Come on now, Connor, back to your seat,” the carer said again, coaxing him gently. Lily looked down at the name tag: Minnie Crumb – and a more apt name couldn’t have been found for her.  She reminded Lily of a startled bird. “I’ve never seen him react like that to anyone, he’s usually very placid. That was very bad, Connor. Say sorry.” Connor turned to her as if only just seeing her, confused, then he looked back at Lily.
    Lily looked into his soft green eyes and she knew, just knew that he really was like her  – Seelie Shee. It wasn’t possible, couldn’t be possible... but he was fey, the only other of her kind she had ever seen. He was on the cusp of his teens and twenties, tall and slender, typically fey. He was wearing a faded Star Wars tee shirt, Chewbacca little more than a fuzzy blob, and Han Solo with more wrinkles than Yoda. His frayed jeans hung like an army surplus tent around his legs; from his shoulder dangled a rather mutilated Toy Story carry bag. He was hiding, just as she was, but Lily didn’t even think he knew he was doing it, his glamour some kind of instinctive survival response. She tried to see him as they saw him, and got a vague impression of another him, but it was too elusive to grab a hold of the image. She saw very dark spiky hair, a hedgehog cut, his face innocent and pure, green eyes that held her captivated. More than that she felt an instant kinship with him – a feeling so strong that it overwhelmed her every thought and feeling. She suddenly understood how a mother felt when she saw her new born baby for the first time, a daughter finally reunited with a parent after years apart. And she knew that this boy felt the same.
    Lily, seeing that this was quickly going to get out of control, stood up and moved towards the boy, staring at him, still hardly able to believe what she was seeing. The carer was more insistent now, calling her friend over to help.
    Connor tried to move forwards again, but was stopped by a hand on his arm. This time it was the other carer, and she meant business. She was a squat, square woman, with a face like a rabid bulldog, large boned and