As the profile of Newcastle dominated the horizon, tensions rose yet again. Kate wanted to avoid the city altogether. Someone else had bunions and needed a doctor, or at least first aid. Rich had so many thoughts on the nature of the modern pilgrimage that the gorilla man needed a new notebook. Flummoxing them all, Harold asked the group if they might make a detour via Hexham. He produced from his jacket pocket the business card of the man in the hotel where he had spent his first night. It was creased with time, and furry at the edges. But even though those first few days of his walk had almost broken him, he remembered them with envy. They held a simplicity that he felt he was in danger of losing, if he had not lost it already.

“Of course I can’t make you come with me,” said Harold, “but I will stick to my promise.”

A further secret meeting was called by Rich. “I can’t believe I’m the only one who’s man enough to say it. But you lot can’t see the wood for the trees. The guy’s falling apart. We can’t go to Hexham. It’s over twenty miles in the wrong direction.”

“He made a promise,” said Kate, “just as he made one to us. He’s too polite to renege on that. It’s rather English, and very endearing.”

Rich flared. “In case you’ve forgotten, Queenie is dying. I vote we form a splinter group and push straight up to Berwick. He’s suggested it himself before now. We could be there in a week.”

No one expressed an opinion, but in the morning Kate discovered a lot of campaigning had taken place in the night. Whispered conversations in tents, and over the dying embers of the fire, had confirmed Rich’s opinion: they all loved Harold, but it was time to break free. They looked for the old man but he was not to be found. They packed up their sleeping bags and tents, and were gone. Apart from the smouldering embers of a fire, the field was so empty she could almost doubt any of it had happened.

Kate found Harold sitting by a river, throwing stones for the dog. His shoulders were hunched as if a weight pressed down on him. It shocked her, how old he suddenly looked. She told him Rich had persuaded the gorilla man to go ahead, and that they had taken the well-wishers and what was left of the journalists. “He called a meeting and gave some story about you needing a break. He even squeezed out a few tears. There was nothing I could do. But people won’t be fooled for long.”

“I don’t mind. To tell the truth, it was getting too much.” The swallows were skimming the water, turning vertically on their wings. He watched them a while.