‘I don’t know if you’ve got any money?’ said Nick.

‘Oh, no. No, I wouldn’t want you to.’

‘Here. It’ll tide you over, just for a bit.’

Despite himself, Stephen took the cash. Some of the notes were the same brown as the railway signs.

‘I’ll pay you back,’ he said, although he didn’t know how he’d be able to. Maybe he could get some bar work, till they let him come back to the farm.

‘Well,’ said Nick. He had his hand on the door handle, as if he intended to step out, but didn’t make to open his door.

Stephen said he was sorry once again. But Nick appeared to have run out of steam and of words and only stared ahead through the windscreen. Stephen got out of the car and went around to the back for his case. His duffel bag was beside it on the carpet which lined the floor of the boot. He lifted them both out and went around to the driver’s door to make his goodbye, but Nick had started the engine and, not so much as glancing in the boy’s direction, he pulled away and did not look back.

13.

There were a few Australians at the hostel and it was comforting to hear the familiar accents around him. On the Earls Court Road nearby, too, he heard snatches of voices with the cadence of home.