“I told you he was no good,” said Rich across the camp fire. His eyes pinned Harold through the dark.

♦

Harold was deeply troubled by the boy’s disappearance. He walked apart from the group and scanned the shadows for signs. In towns, he stared into pubs and gangs of young men, searching for Wilf’s gaunt, sickly face, or listening out for that infuriating yelp of a laugh. He felt he had let the boy down, and that this was how it always was with Harold. Once again, he slept badly at nights, and sometimes he did not sleep at all.

“You look tired,” said Kate. They had moved a little distance from the group and were sitting in a brick tunnel by a stream. The water was still and thick, more like green velvet than fluid. Further along the banks, there was water mint and cress, but Harold knew he’d lost the interest in picking them.

“I feel a long way from where I began. But I also feel a long way from where I am going.” He gave a yawn that seemed to shudder up through his whole body. “Why do you think Wilf went?”

“He’d had enough. I don’t think he was evil or anything like that. He’s young. He’s flaky.”

Harold felt someone was talking to him at last without frills, as in the early days of his walk, when no one had expectations, including himself. He confided that Wilf had reminded him of his son, and that Harold’s betrayal of David sometimes pained him these days even more than his betrayal of Queenie. “When my son was little, we realized he was clever. He spent all his time in his room, doing schoolwork. If he didn’t get top marks, he’d be in tears. But then his intelligence seemed to backfire on him. He was too clever. Too lonely. He got into Cambridge and he started drinking. I was such a no-hoper at school, I was in awe of his intelligence. Failure was about the only thing I was good at.”

Kate laughed and her chin concertina’d into her neck. Despite her brusque manner, he had begun to find comfort in the stalwart bulk of her. She said, “I never said anything about this to the others, but my wedding ring disappeared a few nights ago too.”

Harold sighed. He knew he had trusted Wilf against the odds, but somehow he had also trusted that there was a basic goodness to be found in everyone, and that this time he could tap into it.

“It doesn’t matter about the ring. My ex and I just got divorced. I don’t know why I kept on wearing it.” She flexed her naked fingers. “So maybe Wilf did me a favour.”

“Should I have done more, Kate?”

Kate smiled. “You can’t save everyone.” She paused and then she asked, “Do you still see your son?”