When evening came the men who were not on watch gathered on the main deck. Gus found a seat on an upturned barrel and settled down to watch. An accordion struck up a familiar dance tune and several of the men rose and took the floor. To Gus’s amazement, those who were to act the woman’s role had designated the fact by wearing at their waists either an apron or, failing that, a white handkerchief. Remembering what Boney had said, he hastily stuffed the pinny he had been given out of sight underneath him.

He had realised early on in the voyage that some of the men found consolation for the long separation from the female sex with each other. He had been shocked at first, but had come to understand that such behaviour was generally, if tacitly, tolerated. He had had several propositions himself and had responded initially with outrage and then later with a kind of resigned amusement. But this was different. This open display struck him as outrageous.

The dancing began and Gus saw that his reaction had been mistaken. There was nothing overtly sexual in the men’s behaviour. It was, instead, a parody of what they had seen on any dance floor ashore. The men playing the female roles tried to ape the behaviour of ladies and put on all the feminine wiles they had observed, to hilarious effect. They minced and curtsied and fluttered their eyes, but at the same time, Gus noticed, some were quite good dancers. He looked up at the quarterdeck and saw that several of the officers were watching and that they were amused, not shocked.

The dance ended and Lofty came bounding over. ‘Come on, Gus. Where’s your pinny?’

‘Haven’t got one,’ Gus mumbled.

‘Yeah, you have. Boney told me. There it is! It’s no good sitting on it. Come along.’ He held out his hand and made a mocking bow. ‘May I have the honour of this dance, ma’am?’

‘I can’t,’ Gus protested. ‘I don’t know how.’

Lofty was implacable. ‘I’ll teach you.’

The music started again and Gus found himself pulled from his barrel and almost frogmarched onto the floor; but once there the rhythm of the music and the general air of goodwill took over and he started to try to match his steps to Lofty’s.

‘There you go!’ Lofty cried. ‘I knew you had it in you!’

He seized Gus round the waist and whirled him round and Gus began to laugh. He had never seen a real ball; had indeed hardly seen women in his strictly segregated life, so he copied the affectations of the other men and soon Lofty was laughing too.

When the dance was over another of the sailors came over and asked Gus to dance with him, but Lofty put a possessive hand on his arm.

‘Oh no! This one’s mine. You find your own gal.’