Authors: Frederic Lindsay
'More
like
a
Movement.
That's
what
Kite
says.’
'Does
he?'
she
speculated;
but
he
seemed
vigorously
serious,
the
livid
nostril
going
up
and
down
like
a
signal
lamp
with
the
nodding
of
his
head.
'You
won't
find
anybody
here
tonight
though.
Lucky
to
find
me.
I'm
just
checking
up
on
the
premises.’
'I
thought
this
was
the
night
you
met.
That's
what
Fraser
told
me.’
The
boy's
head
changed
direction,
shaking
now
from
side
to
side.
With
a
nose
like
that,
the
thought
occurred
to
her,
you'd
think
he'd
find
it
painful.
'Not
tonight.
There's
something
on.’
He
furrowed
his
brow.
'You
could
come.
Don't
see
why
not.’
'You're
meeting
somewhere
else?'
'Something
like
that.’
He
reached
back
through
the
curtain
and
the
light
in
the
shop
went
out.
Before
she
realised
what
he
was
about
to
do,
he
struck
down
the
switch
beside
him
as
well.
Next
moment
the
torch
went
on
again.
'Right.
Follow
me.
We
have
to
go
out
the
back
way.’
'What?'
She
stumbled
and
felt
him
touch
her
arm.
'Steady
the
buffs.’
The
light
shone
on
a
lock
and
then
he
had
opened
the
door
and
they
were
outside.
They
began
to
pick
their
way
along
a
lane,
walls
close
on
either
side.
Fear
stirred,
not
for
anything
this
ungainly
boy
might
do but
that
he
would
be
no
protection
against
the
dangers
of
the
dark.
It
was
a
relief
to
emerge
into
a
lit
street.
'Steady
the
buffs?'
she
asked
abruptly.
'Wherever
did
you
get
that
from?
Your
father?'
'Leave
it
out.’
He
walked
away
from
her,
and
when
she
caught
him
up
repeated,
'You
can
leave
that
right
out.’
Glancing
up
at
him,
she
thought,
of
course,
stupid
of
me.
To
an
experienced
eye
he
had
the
gangrel
look
of
someone
lacking
a
father
or,
more
likely,
with
one
it
would
have
been
better
not
to
have
known.
After
a
block
walked
in
silence,
she
ventured,
'Why
did
we
have
to
come
out
that
way?
Wouldn't
it
have
been
easier
to
leave
by
the
front
door?'
She
had
almost
given
up,
when
the
mutter
came
from
above
her
head.
'Had
to.
Essohpee.’
'I'm
sorry,
I
don't
understand.’
'Standard
Operating
Procedure.
Essohpee.
All
right?
'
And
from
the
tone
she
understood
that
he
was
mollified.
Hurrying
after
him
as
he
veered
across
the
road
to
a
parked
van,
she
wondered
if
he
was
about
to
steal
it.
He
seemed
the
type,
and
too
feckless
not
to
be
caught
if
he
tried.
It
was
good
to
see
the
battered
wing
and
the
parking
with
two
wheels
canted
on
to
the
pavement.
To
confirm
it
was
his,
he
produced
keys
and
slid
open
the
driver's
door.
'Could
you
climb
in
this
way?
The
other
door's jammed,'
he
said.
He
told
her
his
name
was
Nick
and
asked
hers.
She
laid
her
bag
on
the
bench
seat
between
them
and
then
lifted
it
and
laid
it
in
her
lap.
It
began
to
drizzle
and
between
the
lagging
smear
of
the
wipers,
shop fronts
slid
by
and
light
gleamed
from
the
slick
of
a
deserted
crossroads.
After
that
there
was
a
long
empty
street
and
then
another
of
low
brick
houses
and
curtained
windows.
'Is
it
far?'
She
heard
her
voice
thin
and
rise;
and steadying
it
asked,
'To
the
meeting?'
He
changed
gears, turning
into
another
dim
street
under
the
rain,
no
different from
the
one
they
had
left.
'It
is
open
to
the
public?
I
mean
I
took
that
for
granted.
In
a
hall
or
something.’
The
van,
however,
instead
of
picking
up
speed
was
slowing
and
now
came
to
a
stop.
Nick
bent
across
her
to
peer
out
of
the
side
window.
There
was
a
forecourt
with
petrol
pumps,
a
workshop
to
one
side
and
a
place
to
pay
on
the
other,
all
of
it
unlit.
'Bound
to
be
out
in
a
minute,'
Nick
said
to
himself.
He leaned
back.
'Wouldn't
thank
me
for
going
in,
I
don't
expect.’
He
extended
a
thin
wrist
and
angled
his
watch
to
catch
the
light.
'Spot-on
when
he
told
me.’