Other than the drip of water behind me, he made no sound. No impatient shuffle of bare feet as he waited for me to master my terror of him. Yes, terror, there was no other word that described my feelings towards these visitations. After his appearance at the dam, I had briefly wondered if he had been there to warn me. But no, how could that be? How could he have forgiven my betrayal?
I remembered it now, as clear as if it was yesterday. The broken metal of the turret, the smoke, the water gushing up through the magazine door, which foolishly, I realise now, we had kept open to increase our guns’ rate of fire.
There was noise, I am sure, but I recall little of it. All I heard were Kit’s words begging me not to leave him. His eyes wide so that the whites gleamed in fear. I had pulled and p
