They scolded her, in a playful way, for being worried.

'If you could see some of the heavy great blokes we have to haul about!' said the boyish one-Mickey-laughing. 'We're going into business, after this, as piano movers.'

The old lady went ahead of them, to tell them about awkward steps. She held the front-door open for them, and then trotted down the path to do the same with the garden gate. The ambulance was parked just beyond it, the touches of white on its dull grey paintwork lit up by the moon and making it seem to float above the inky-black surface of the street. Kay and Mickey set Viv down, and opened up the doors.

'We're going to lay you flat,' said Mickey. 'We think that'll help the bleeding. Here we go.'

They lifted her in, got her out of the chair and put her down on the bunk. She still shook as if cold, and the blood still seeped; now, too, she'd begun to labour after air-as if she'd run a race, something like that. She heard Kay speak, telling Mickey that Mickey could drive, while she stayed in the back; then the bunk tilted slightly as Kay climbed in. Viv looked up-looking for Reggie, wanting Kay to let him sit beside her and hold her hand… One of the ambulance doors was closed, and the old lady stood in the frame of the other: she was calling out, in her sloppy voice, that Viv wasn't to be frightened now; that the doctors would have her right in no time… She stepped back. Mickey had hold of the open door and was closing it.

Viv struggled, and sat up. She said, 'Wait. Where's Reggie?'

'Reggie?' said Kay.

'Her husband!' said the old lady. 'Lord, I clean forgot him. I saw him slip away and-'

'Reggie!' called Viv, growing frantic. There was a strap holding down her hips. She began to pluck at it. 'Reggie!'

'Is he there?' asked Kay.

'I don't think so,' answered Mickey. 'Do you want me to go and have a look?'

Viv still struggled with the strap.

'All right,' said Kay. 'But be quick!'

Mickey went off. When she came back, a minute or two later, she was panting. She put up the brim of her tin hat and leaned into the van.

'There's no-one there,' she said. 'I looked all over.'

Kay nodded. 'Right, let's go. He can find her at the hospital.'

'But he was there,' said Viv breathlessly. 'You must have made a mistake- In the darkness-'

'There's no-one,' Mickey said again. 'I'm sorry.'

'Now, ain't that a shame,' said the old lady, with great feeling.

Viv fell back: weaker than ever, unable to protest. She was thinking of Reggie, on the edge of tears, saying, 'A doctor will be able to tell, won't he? A doctor will want our names, he'll want to know everything about us.' She was remembering him standing in the doorway to the bathroom, shaking his head, saying, 'I'm sorry…'

She closed her eyes. The door was slammed and, after a moment, the ambulance started up and moved off. The engine was so loud, it felt as though she had her head against its engine. It was like being trapped in the hold of a ship. Kay's voice came, close above her face. 'All right, Mrs Pearce.' She was doing something-filling in a label, fastening it to Viv's collar. 'Be brave, Mrs Pearce-'

Viv said, wretchedly, 'Don't call me Mrs. He's not my husband, like the lady said. We had to make out, that's all, for Mr Imrie-'

'Never mind,' said Kay.

'We said Harrison, because that was Reggie's mother's name. You must say Harrison at the hospital. Will you? You must say I'm Mrs Harrison. Because even if they look, and can tell-it's not so bad if a married lady does it, is it?'

'Don't worry.' Kay was holding her wrist, feeling her pulse.

'They don't send for the police, do they, when it's married ladies?'

'You're getting muddled. Send for the police? Why would they do that?'

'It's against the law, isn't it?' said Viv.

She saw Kay smile. 'Being ill? Not yet.'

'Getting rid of a baby, I mean.'

The van gave a series of bumps, as it ran over the broken surface of the road. Kay said, 'What?'

Viv wouldn't answer. She could feel a little more blood being shaken out of her with every jolt. She closed her eyes again.

'Vivien,' said Kay. 'What did you do?'

'We went to a man,' said Viv at last. She caught her breath. 'A dentist.'

'What did he do to you?'

'He put me to sleep. It was all right, at first. But he put a dressing inside me, and the dressing came out, and that's when it started bleeding. It was all right till then.'

Kay moved away and thumped on the wall of the cabin. 'Mickey!' The van slowed, then stopped; there was the ratcheting sound of the brake. Mickey's face appeared at the sliding glass panel above Viv's head.

'Is she OK?'

'It's not,' said Kay, 'what we thought. She's been to someone-a bloody dentist-he's mucked about with the pregnancy.'

'Oh, no,' said Mickey.

'She's bleeding, still. He might have-I don't know. He might have punctured the wall of the womb.'

'Right.' Mickey turned. 'I'll go as quick as I can.'

'Wait. Wait!' Mickey turned back. 'She's afraid of the police.'

Viv was watching their faces. She'd raised herself up again. 'There mustn't be police!' she said. 'There mustn't be police, or newspaper men. They can't tell my father!'

'Your father won't mind,' said Mickey, 'when he knows how ill you are-'

'She's not married,' said Kay.

Viv began to cry again. 'Don't tell,' she said. 'Oh, please don't tell!'

She saw Mickey looking at Kay. 'If there's been a puncture, she might- Hell. There might be blood poisoning, mightn't there?'

'I don't know. I think so.'

'Please,' said Viv. 'Just tell them I've lost my baby.'

Mickey shook her head. 'It's too dangerous.'

'Please. Don't tell them anything. Say you found me in the street.'

'They'll know anyway,' said Mickey.

But Viv could see Kay thinking. 'They might not.'

'No,' said Mickey. 'We can't chance it. For God's sake, Kay! She might-' She looked at Viv. 'You might die,' she said.

'I don't care!'

'Kay,' said Mickey; and when Kay didn't answer, she turned away. The van jerked into life again and moved off, quicker than before.

Viv sank back. She couldn't feel the jolts so much, now. She felt suspended. She thought that, in losing so much blood, she must be beginning to float. She was vaguely aware of Kay adding something to the label fastened to her collar, then fumbling around with the pocket of her coat; then she felt her fingers held and squeezed. Kay had taken her hand. Her grip was sticky; Viv clutched harder, so as not to float away. She opened her eyes, and gazed into Kay's face. She gazed into it as she had never gazed into any face before; as if gazing could keep her from floating away, too.

'Just a little further, Vivien,' Kay said, over and over, and, 'Be very brave. That's right. We're almost there.'

And in another moment, the van made a turn and came to a stop. The doors were unfastened and thrown open. Mickey climbed in, and someone else appeared behind her: a nurse, with a white cap, bright and misshapen in the light of the moon.

'You again, Langrish!' said the nurse. 'Well, and what have you brought us tonight?'

Kay looked at Mickey, but kept her fingers tight about Viv's. And when Mickey opened her mouth to speak, she spoke instead.

'Miscarriage,' she said firmly. 'Miscarriage, with complications. We think the lady, Mrs Harrison, has had a bad fall. She's lost an awful lot of blood, and is pretty confused.'

The nurse gave a nod. 'All right,' she said. She moved away, and called to a porter. 'You there! Yes, you! Fetch a trolley, and look smart about it!'

Mickey lowered her head and said nothing. She began, rather grimly, to unfasten the strap that held Viv to the bunk. 'Come on, Vivien,' Kay said, when she'd done it. 'It's all right.'