When the cab arrived at the wharf car park, the night was closing in around them. Only a few windows were lit in the barges that wintered there. Leonie was almost asleep again and had to be carried. The moment they’d paid and left, the taxi reversed away at high speed, leaving them alone, standing under the single streetlamp that burned at the edge of the water.

In the silence she watched the gentle bobbing of the tethered boats, wondering where Sam might have moored.

“Hey, matey. How was your trip?”

“Jeez, Sam. You made me jump.”

She hadn’t seen him sitting there on the old lock in the gathering dark. They both laughed, and Sam stood up and came close. He’d grown his beard longer, but the eyes were the same, wide and kind. When he put his arms around her and around Leonie, Ruby tried not to cry.

He gave them a long squeeze. Then he stepped back a little. “So. This must be Leonie.”

“You’re sure it’s okay for the baby to stay too? We don’t have anywhere else to go. We stayed in this B&B last night and the woman was really mean.”

“Hey, hey. You’re here now. It’s okay. I love kids.” He rubbed Ruby on the back. She leaned into him, into the familiar feel of his wiry frame, his strong arms. Finally, she was safe. Arriving at Sam’s, she thought it might have been the closest thing she’d ever felt to coming home.

The boat was just the way she remembered it. She carried Leonie down the steps into the cozy warmth, the smell of liquorish tea and woodsmoke. After the bed and breakfasts, which she had chosen on the basis that they were clearly run-down, ask-no-questions-type establishments, she felt she could finally relax.

“Nice boots,” said Sam, with a smile in his voice. On her feet were a pair of ex-army boots she’d found in a charity shop. “Not really you, though, are they? And what’s with the hair?”

Still holding Leonie, Ruby twirled a strand of her newly orange hair in her fingers. Yesterday she’d bleached it, tinted it, and cut it herself into a rough bob. (She knew she ought to feel bad about the mess she’d made of that landlady’s sink. But she didn’t. Not even a bit.) This morning she’d teamed the hairstyle with heavy eyeliner and a tweed jacket that was a size too small. The steampunk getup was her third disguise this week, and not her favorite if she was honest. She looked at her friend for a moment without speaking.

“It’s so good to see you, Sammy. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you.” And she cried then, letting her head fall into the padding on the shoulder of Leonie’s thick coat.