Many things went through Trev’s mind as the ball hit the ground. She was in hisarms, even if She was complaining about getting mud on her coat. He hadprobably saved Her life, which from a romantic point of view was money in thebank, and—oh, yes. Dimmer or Dolly, if one of the hardcore posses found outabout this the next thing to go through his head would be a boot.

She giggled.

‘Shush!’ he managed. ‘Not a good idea if you’d rather not know how you wouldlook with that beautiful hair shaved off!’

Trev peeped out from under the stall, and attracted no attention at all.

This is because Nutt had picked up the ball and was turning it over and over inhis hands with a frown on what was visible of, if you were kind, his face.

‘Is this all it is?’ he said to a bewildered Glenda. ‘A most inappropriateending to a pleasant social gathering with interesting canapés! Where is thiswretched thing supposed to be, then?’

Glenda, hypnotized by the sight, pointed a wavering finger in the generaldirection of down the street.

‘There’s a big pole? Painted white… well, spattered with red at the bottom… ’

‘Oh yes, I see it. Well, in that case, I’ll—Look, will you men please stoppushing?’ Nutt added to the crowd, who were craning to see.

‘But there’s no way you’ll ever get it there!’ Glenda yelled. ‘Just put it downand come away!’

Trev heard a grunt from Nutt and absolute silence from the rest of the world.Oh, no, he thought. Really no. It must be more than, what, a hundred and fiftyyards to that goal, and those things fly like a bucket. There is no way that hecould—

A distant pock broke the breathless silence, which healed itself instantly.

Trev peered over a shoulder as the sixty-foot goal post gave up its battle withtermites, rot, weather, gravity and Nutt, and fell into its own base in a cloudof dust. He was so astonished that he hardly noticed Juliet standing up next tohim[10].

‘Is that a kind of, like, sign?’ said Juliet, who believed in such things.

At that moment, Trev believed in pointing a finger towards the other side ofthe street and shouting, ‘He went that way!’ and then hauling Juliet uprightand butting Nutt in the stomach. ‘Let’s go!’ he added. He couldn’t do anythingabout Glenda, but that would not matter; while he held Juliet’s hand Glendawould follow him like a homing vulture. People were trying to run towards thehidden goal; others were making for the apparent location of the long-distancescorer. Trev pointed in a random direction and yelled, ‘He went down there! Bigman with a black hat!’ Confusion always helped, when it wasn’t yours; when itwas time for a hue and cry, make sure who was hue.

They halted a few alleys away. There was still a commotion far off, but a citycrowd is easier to get lost in than a forest.

‘Look, perhaps I should go back and apologize,’ Nutt began. ‘I could make a newpole quite easily.’

‘I hate to tell you this, Gobbo, but I think you might have upset the kind ofpeople who don’t listen to apologies,’ said Trev. ‘Keep moving, everyone.’

‘Why might they be upset?’

‘Well, Mister Nutt, first, you are not supposed to score a goal when it is notyour game, and anyway you are a watcher, not a player,’ said Glenda. ‘Andsecond, a shot like that gets right up people’s noses. You could have killedsomeone!’

‘No, Miss Glenda, I assure you I could not. I deliberately aimed at the pole.’

‘So? That doesn’t mean you were sure to hit it!’

‘Er, I have to say it does, Miss Glenda,’ he mumbled.

‘How did you do it? You took the pole to bits! They don’t grow on trees! You’llget us all into trouble!’

‘Why can’t he be a player?’ said Juliet, staring at her reflection in a window.

‘What?’ said Glenda.

‘Bloody hell,’ said Trev. ‘With him on the team you wouldn’t need a team!’

‘That’d save a lot of trouble, then,’ said Juliet.

‘So you say,’ said Glenda, ‘and where would be the fun in that? That wouldn’tbe football any more—’

‘We are being watched,’ said Nutt. ‘I am sorry to interrupt you.’

Trev glanced around. The street was busy, but mostly with its own affairs.‘There’s no one interested, Gobbo. We’re well away.’

‘I can feel it on my skin,’ Nutt insisted.

‘What, through all that wool?’ said Glenda.

He turned round, soulful eyes on her. ‘Yes,’ he said, and remembered Ladyshiptesting him on that. It had seemed like a game at the time.

He glanced up and a large head drew back quickly from a parapet. There was avery faint smell of bananas. Ah, that one. He was nice. Nutt saw him sometimes,going hand over hand along the pipes.

‘You ought to get ’er home,’ said Trev to Glenda.

Glenda shuddered. ‘Not a good idea. Old Stollop’ll ask her what she saw at thegame.’

‘Well?’

‘She’ll tell him. And who she saw—’

‘Can’t she lie?’

‘Not in the way you can, Trev. She’s just no good at making stuff up. Look,let’s get back to the university. We all work there, and I often go in to catchup. We’ll go directly now and you two go back the long way. We never saw oneanother, right? And for heavens’ sake don’t let him do anything silly!’

‘Excuse me, Miss Glenda,’ said Nutt meekly.

‘Yes, what?’

‘Which of us were you addressing?’

‘I have let you down,’ said Nutt, as they strolled through the post-matchcrowds. At least, Trev ambled; Nutt moved with a strange gait that suggestedthere was something wrong with his pelvis.

‘Nah, it’s fixable,’ said Trev. ‘Everything is fixable. I’m a fixer, me. Whatdid anybody really see? Just a bloke in Dimmer kit. There’s thousands of us.Don’t worry. Er, how come you’re so tough, Gobbo? You spent your life liftingweights, or what?’

‘You are correct in your surmise, Mister Trev. Before I was born I did indeeduse to lift weights. I was only a child then, of course.’

They strolled on and after a while Trev said, ‘Could you say that again? It’sgot stuck in my head. Actually, I think part of it’s stickin’ out of my ear.’

‘Ah, yes. Perhaps I have confused you. There was a time when my mind was fullof darkness. Then Brother Oats helped me to the light, and I was born.’

‘Oh, religion stuff.’

‘But here I am. You asked why I am strong? When I lived in the dark of theforge, I used to lift weights. The tongs at first, and then the little hammerand then the biggest hammer, and then one day I could lift the anvil. That wasa good day. It was a little freedom.’

‘Why was it so important to lift the anvil?’

‘I was chained to the anvil.’

They walked on in silence again until Trev, picking each word with care, said,‘I guess things must be sort of tough in the high country?’

‘It is not so bad now, I think.’

‘Makes you count your blessin’s, that sort of thing.’

‘The presence of a certain lady, Mister Trev?’

‘Yes, since you ask. I think about ’er all the time! I really like ’er! Butshe’s a Dolly!’ A small group of supporters turned to glance at them, and helowered his voice to a hiss. ‘She’s got brothers with fists the size of abull’s arse!’

‘I have read, Mister Trev, that love laughs at locksmiths.’

‘Really? And what does it do when it’s been smacked in the face by a bull’sarse?’

‘The poets are not forthcoming in that respect, Mister Trev.’

‘Besides,’ said Trev, ‘locksmiths tend to be quiet blokes, you know? Carefuland patient and that. Like you. I reckon you could get away with a bit of ajoke. You must ’ave met girls. I mean, you’re no oil painting, that’s a fact,but they like a posh voice. I bet you ’ad them eatin’ out of your ’and… well,after you’d washed it, obviously.’

Nutt hesitated. There had been Ladyship, of course, and Miss Healstether,neither of whom fitted easily into the category of ‘girl’. Of course, therewere the Little Sisters, who were certainly young and apparently female but ithad to be said looked rather like intelligent chickens, and certainly weren’tseen at their best when you watched them feeding–but once again, ‘girls’ didnot seem the right word.