‘Go on. Tell them.’

It was the same story. Eru had come down the hillside behind Smith. He could see the bridge and Questing’s car. ‘Questing leant out of the window and beckoned Bert to come on. I couldn’t see the signal, but I reckoned he was crazy, seeing what time it was. I yelled out to Bert to turn it up and come back, but he never heard me. Then she blew her whistle.’ Eru’s olive face turned white. ‘Gee, I thought he was under the engine all right. I couldn’t see him, like, from where I was. The train was between us. Gee, I certainly expected the jolt. I never picked he’d jump for it. Crikey, was I relieved when I seen old Bert sitting in the prickles!’

‘The engine driver pulled her up and they came back to inquire, didn’t they, Eru?’

‘Too right. They looked terrible. You know, white as a sheet. They’d got the shock of their lives, those jokers. We had to put it down in writing he’d blown the whistle. They had to protect themselves, see?’

‘Yeh. Well, that’s the whole works,’ said Smith. ‘Thanks, Eru.’

He rubbed his hands over his face and looked at them. ‘I could do with a drink,’ he said. ‘You may think I’ve had some by the way I smell. I swear to God I haven’t. It broke when I went over.’

‘That’s right,’ said Eru. He looked round awkwardly. ‘I’ll say good day,’ he added.

He returned to the kitchen. Mrs Claire glanced after him dubiously, and presently got up and followed him.

Smith sagged forward, resting his cheek on his hand as though he sat meditating alone in the room. Dr Ackrington limped across and put his hand on Smith’s shoulder.

‘I’ll fix you up,’ he said. ‘Come along.’

Smith looked up at him, got to his feet, and shambled to the door.

‘I could have him up, couldn’t I, Doc?’ he said. ‘It’s attempted murder, isn’t it?’

‘I hope so,’ said Dr Ackrington.

II

Mrs Claire stood in the centre of her own kitchen looking up at Eru Saul. The top of her head reached no farther than his chin, but she was a plumply authoritative figure and he shuffled his feet and would not look at her. Huia, with an air of conscious virtue, was dishing up the dinner.

‘You are going home now, Eru, I suppose,’ said Mrs Claire.

‘That’s right, Mrs Claire,’ said Eru, looking at Huia.

‘Huia is very busy, you know.’

‘Yeh, that’s right.’

‘And we don’t like you waiting about. You know that.’

‘I’m not doing anything, Mrs Claire.’

‘The Colonel doesn’t wish you to come. You understand?’

‘I was only asking Huia what say we went to the pictures.’

‘I’m not going to the pictures. I told you already,’ said Huia loudly.