SIXTEEN
The afternoon went quickly, the trainees buoyant, eager, nothing like he expected. Even Mike gave him a farewell nod as he left. On the drive home, he took a route down a country lane, as if the car itself had made the decision. Steve pulled over in a lay-by, got out, went across to a fence and watched a mare and foal running across a field.
The work made him forget. Happy faces. But now, with nothing but the singing of birds in distant trees and the view of the horses, the memory returned, and with it the shame.
He knew fear, had met it many times. Never one to become physical, relying on bluff and good acting, Steve’s reserve of courage often proved pitiful. He remembered years ago, working in a railway station newspaper stall, how two brutes helped themselves to books and swe
