There was a crash and a crunch and the flash of a light. Stephen broke the kiss and screamed loudly.

‘Now,’ he whispered. ‘Run. If you want to.’

There was a blanket beside him. I threw it over my head like a bridal veil, and blundered into the darkness, until the shouting and the screaming were barely audible.

When I got back to the barracks I was sick. I cleaned my teeth till my gums bled, trying to wash away the taste of vomit and Stephen’s lipstick. Stephen would be in the guardhouse by now. How would he behave under interrogation? Would they hurt him? Would he reveal the name of his … accomplice? Would there be a knock at the door in the middle of the night?

But the men snored, the pipes clicked and gurgled, somewhere an owl hooted, the camp slept.

In the morning I woke with a bang, the sheets wet with sweat, my mouth dry as an ashtray. We all pissed and washed and shaved as normal. Nobody said a word, and we went about our work.

Kelsey cut off my path on the way to the SSQ.

‘Your little friend was up to no good last night, Medway.’

‘Who’s that then, sir?’

‘Princess Margaret. Who do you fucking well think?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘And what we all want to know, Medway, is who was the man with the blanket over his head?’

‘Is there anything you need from the dispensary this morning, sir?’ I asked, opening up the office with shaking hand.

‘I reckon it was you, Medway.’

‘I need to open the office, sir.’

‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ whispered Kelsey, his neck roll quivering. ‘You fucking queers.’

Wright lurched round the corner, his eyes red and puffy, his hair uncombed, obviously hung over, possibly still pissed.

‘Michael!’ He right wheeled towards us. ‘Fuckin’ ’ell, Medway, that was a heavy night, wasn’t it? Morning, sarge. You look chipper.’

‘I wasn’t boozing, was I?’

‘We were, weren’t we, Airman Medway? We were on a right bender.’

‘Well someone was,’ said Kelsey, who could sense his prey escaping his jaws.

‘So I hear,’ said Wright. ‘Good for little Stephen, eh? At least someone’s getting laid in this godforsaken place.’

Kelsey looked as if he was about to burst.

‘Had your breakfast yet, Mike?’

‘I couldn’t eat a thing.’

‘Course you can. Come on, let’s go to the NAAFI and treat ourselves to a nice big fat sausage.’

Kelsey stalked off, looking for others to accuse.

‘Thanks, Wright.’

‘So where the fuck were you last night?’

‘I went to bed.’

‘You what? You should have been there to help me celebrate.’

‘You were with your friends. I didn’t want to …’

‘I wanted you.’

We stopped, halfway to the NAAFI.

‘I might just make a cup of tea in the office. I don’t think I could face breakfast.’

‘Was it you, Mike? The Man in the Blanket?’

‘Don’t be daft.’

‘Right.’

We stood in silence.