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with you lot.”
    He wore a self-satisfied expression as he busied himself with the salad bowl.
    “Sounds ambitious,” said Juliet. “I hope you do get your evidence. Must admit I don’t feel I have any to give yet.”
    He gave a dismissive snort. “Everybody here is raw material as far as I’m concerned. You’re no exception even if you have come here to interview us.”
    Juliet looked down at her knuckles and saw they were white. That was the effect of Edgar’s last sentence. She consciously relaxed her hands.
    Edgar, meanwhile, speared a cherry tomato with his fork and began munching.
    “We’ve all filled in one of his forms.” Laura leaned toward Juliet, an intimate smile upon her face.
    “Maybe,” Juliet said. “But I’m here for a different reason.”
    “Oh, don’t try that with us, Juliet.” Edgar lifted his hands, palms uppermost. “We’re all where we’re meant to be, and you’re here for a special purpose. I can see you feel you’re somehow set apart from the rest of us. But you’ll soon get over that. And we each have to learn it’s no good holding back from the group. We are, after all, part of the Wheel of Love.”
    She countered him swiftly. “But does love demand the completion of a form?”
    He raised his eyebrows.
    “We’re not railroading you into this, Juliet,” said Al. “You just relax, huh? Perhaps you’re one of these guys who like to make a big show of chewing it over.” He placed a large dish of some unidentifiable-looking substance on the table. It steamed gently. “And I’ll wait for this to cool down.”
    “What is it?” she asked.
    “Tomorrow morning’s breakfast for the parrot. Groucho. You weren’t here earlier to see it prepared, were you? We run a rota to cook it up for him. Rice, millet, couscous, lentils and split peas garnished with chopped herbs, mixed veg and…” he unscrewed the top off a jar, “a generous helping of his vitamin and mineral supplement.” He scattered a white powder in, and stirred with a wooden spoon. “Delicious.”
    “Groucho certainly gets excellent treatment,” laughed Juliet. “He must love it.”
    “Sure does.” The American seated himself opposite her, his plate piled high with a well-oiled salad. “Go on, answer the man’s questions.” He reached for the butter. “I haven’t yet figured out this English obsession with privacy. I’m curious about you. We all are. How did you wind up here? How did you swing it by Craig?”
    “Yes, Juliet,” said Laura, “Craig said you wanted to make a documentary.”
    Al turned to Juliet again. “I’d kinda like to know a bit more about that. What’s the thrust of your piece?”
    Ah, she was back on home ground. She could easily explain her journalistic approach, without causing offence. She opened her mouth to speak, but Edgar broke in. “Naughty, naughty, Al,” he said. “Don’t put Juliet on the spot too soon.” His eyes gleamed. He wagged his finger in front of the American. “Not, that is, until she’s shared her experiences with me.”
    “Which ones?” she asked.
    “Ecstatic ones,” he said.
    Who did he think he was? Why should she bare her soul to him?
    “Take your time. But not too long. Evidence, that’s what I like.” Edgar rubbed his hands together. “Evidence of any type. There’s no evidence so thin I cannot massage it.”
    “Take it from him. The man means what he says,” observed Al.
    Probably best to concentrate on her lunch. But she couldn’t resist pushing Edgar further on the subject. “I’m not a member of the group, and have no plans to join. I’m here as an impartial observer. And there are various guidelines that I have to observe…”
    “The broadcast media has the highest code of conduct…” murmured Edgar. A titter passed between the other three at this.
    “What you suggest is impossible. If you’re to achieve anything here, you’ll have to take part, and live as one of us,” said Laura.
    Juliet swallowed two or