‘What’d he do, grab her?’ Gertrude asked, angry at the sailor.

Newman glanced at Gertrude, puzzled. He would have walked away by this time.

‘No, we went out. My sailor went away and then I looked for her and she wasn’t there,’ the girl explained.

‘What, did you get picked up?’ Gertrude frowned at the girl’s stupidity.

‘Yeh,’ the girl admitted. But Newman saw that she knew she was not being condemned.

‘You know their names?’ Gertrude asked.

‘Yeh, but not their right names.’

‘Well, you better call a cop, that’s what you better do.’

‘I don’t want to. Please, they’ll take her to jail.’

‘You’re drunk, aren’t you?’ Gertrude asked with knowing detachment.

‘No, I was drinking but I’m not drunk any more. Please, her mother’ll murder me. It’s her first time out. She’s just a kid. Please, I promised to take her home by nine o’clock.’

Gertrude thought a moment. Newman still had her arm, and he sensed disaster should Gertrude decide to follow the girl.

‘Where’d you leave her. Come on,’ Gertrude said at last.

Thankfully, the girl gave Gertrude one glance and with a child’s hand gestured for her to follow. The three hurried along. Newman tried to think of something to say; he could not bear merely following.

Down the dark path they walked intently and rapidly. Newman’s skin began to tingle; he felt proud and afraid of Gertrude. Who was she? Who was this girl? What was he doing here? In Heaven’s name …!

They came to a drinking fountain and the girl halted and looked around trying to remember her direction. She pointed at a low hill that rose from the left of the path. The hill was covered with bushy trees and there were no lights shining out of it which meant that there was no path into it and no police.

Pointing, the girl said quietly, ‘I think I left her up there. Could you go up there with me?’ she pleaded.

Gertrude peered through the darkness at the hill. Newman pretended to study it too. A fear of the dark that he had always had now flowed down upon him from the hill. His kneecap twitched.

‘How drunk was this sailor?’ he asked the girl, formally.

‘I don’t know. I don’t remember. I got to find her; please, Mister.’

Gertrude looked at him.’ You want to go up there?’

Her voice was whiney with excitement. He wanted to go away. She was a stranger now. ‘All right,’ he whispered.

‘Come on,’ she said.

With the girl in the lead they moved off the path and started up the little hill. Once off the path they could see nothing whatever. In the darkness he heard the girl sniffling up ahead of them. In a moment they could make her out, bent over slightly as though to see the ground under the low branches of the trees as she climbed. Newman clung to Gertrude’s arm. His body was radiating heat and his collar was choking him. He felt bigger somehow, a little brave, unusual. It was as though he had always wanted to follow things through this way and now he was doing it, as though Gertrude had discovered this yearning in him and had taken it for granted. And he loved her for her confidence in him as they climbed through the darkness behind the crouched and sniffling girl. There was a rustling among the twigs of a bush. The three halted. Newman started in shock as he felt Gertrude’s fingers digging into his forearm. She was pressing his arm against her body at the same time. The girl got down on her hands and knees and looked into the bush.