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few rowboats and a couple of canoes. I thought I saw the same birdwatcher out there, with his binoculars in hand. He must be a dedicated ornithologist to sit out in the wind and damp to spot a few ducks.
    Looking ahead, I saw the muscled security man coming towards me. Behind him ran Simon Scott, with Kevin Lewis trailing behind, their auras clearly defined. A spur of the moment impulse propelled me to the ground, where I sat, holding my leg and rubbing my calf. The security man ran past me, but then I heard Scott call out. “Whoa, Frank. Woman down. Let’s see if we can help.”
    The three men stopped. With a wide, reassuring smile, Scott crouched down next to me. “What seems to be the problem?”
    I was so stunned that my ploy had worked that I could barely summon any words. “I, er, my leg. It’s a muscle cramp I think.”
    “Can I?” he asked, gesturing to my calf. Frank stood right behind Scott, eyeing me uncertainly. His whole body appeared tensed and ready to jump. A few yards away, Lewis bent over, trying to catch his breath. The auras over him and Scott were even more pronounced than they’d seemed from a distance. I realized with panic that there wasn’t much time left. I had to say something.
    Scott was pushing on my calf muscle, and I reacted to the pressure with what I hoped was a genuine-sounding ‘ouch’. He moved my lower leg up and down a couple of times and asked me to point my toes. I’d forgotten that he’d been a doctor before becoming a Member of Parliament.
    “The good news is that it’s not a muscle tear,” he said. “More likely just a strain from over-exercising or not warming up properly. I’d recommend a hot bath and some ibuprofen and rest.”
    Up close, he was good-looking in an understated way. His fair skin was smooth and finely freckled and he had unusual eyes, hazel irises ringed with gold. Even in his sweaty T-shirt, and hair flattened with perspiration, he exuded charm.
    He held out his hand. “Let’s see if you can stand on it,” he said, helping me to my feet.
    I nodded. “It’s fine. I can walk on it easily enough.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “I’m sure. Listen, Mr. Scott, sir, there’s something important I need to tell you.”
    Frank took a step forward, his eyes fixed on me. Lewis straightened up.
    You have an aura and you’re going to die.
The words ran through my head but I couldn’t say them out loud. Frank would probably shoot me or grab me in a neck lock, and they’d call the police or the psychiatric unit. Scott looked at me, confusion clouding his eyes.
    “I’m going to vote for you,” I said.
    Scott laughed. “I appreciate that.” He held out his hand to shake mine. “What’s your name?”
    “Kate Benedict.”
    “I feel as though I’ve seen you or heard your name. Have we met before?”
    “Well, I was there for your speech in Kensington earlier this week,” I said.
    “That’s it. You’re a journalist?”
    Lewis stepped forward. “Time to go, Simon. I’m not sure what Miss Benedict’s motives are but I’m beginning to doubt the pulled muscle story.” He turned to look at me. “Can’t you people leave him alone? There are plenty of press opportunities without hounding him when he’s trying to relax. Jeez.”
    “I’m not that kind of journalist,” I said. “I don’t have any motive. I am a voter, though, and you might be glad of my vote when the election comes.”
    Scott grabbed my hand again, the politician in him taking over from the doctor. “Kate, we’re delighted to have your support.”
    “We need to move, sir,” Frank said. Scott held up a hand in a gesture that told him to wait. Frank frowned and, although he stood still, I could almost see his leg muscles twitching. It was some comfort, I supposed, that Scott was guarded so zealously. But the aura negated any sense of safety. Someone or something would kill him, and soon. Lewis glared at me from a few yards away, dark eyes under bushy eyebrows looking me up and