"Nadir, go into the shop and buy a compass and a map of Normandy."

They were standing near the side of the road at a crossroads in the centre of Rouen, the cobblestone streets ringing with the sound of horses' hooves and carriage wheels. It was market day and very busy with crowds of eager people. Erik was anxious to get away from the place.

"What do we need a compass for? Are there not roads to the coast? With signs?"

"Yes, there is the post-road that goes up through Caen. But – I don't want to travel on that road. It - it is always very busy. One ends up travelling with the same group of people and staying at the same stops and having to eat together each night. It happened a lot when I was with Guizot. It was – difficult – "

"So, you are suggesting instead that we buy a compass and just plunge through the countryside to get there? Where will we stay? How will you know if there will be a place each night?"

"There are hundreds of villages between here and there - I am good at navigation!"

"This is ridiculous." He turned away from Erik and rubbed his face in frustration.

Erik dropped his head. He felt a wash of shame in his chest for being so weak, so abnormal for not wanting – not being able – to travel like normal men, but instead, as ever, making it all so much harder for everyone around him. He couldn't think of a solution. He patted the nose of his horse with his free hand.

He heard Nadir sigh.

"I promise to look after you."

Nadir looked at him with amusement. "Well, I am very much reassured by your promise. But on your head be it if we end up sleeping in a ditch overnight."

"I told you this would be an adventure." Erik smiled weakly.

"You're a menace and I'm a fool."

Within half an hour they were on their way from Rouen, after a rather fraught visit to a pharmacy – the pharmacist had insisted on asking Erik quite why he needed so much morphine and Erik had at first refused to answer and then, when pressed, almost shouted, "diarrhoea!" without looking up, and the pharmacist gave him up for too much trouble and gave in and sold him the stuff – and then the bookshop for the map, and the shop-that-sells-everything-else for the compass.

When they were well clear of the town Nadir insisted that they stop in order to plan their route somewhat, calculating which towns they could reach and by when. The journey to Granville, on the Atlantic coast, would take about four or five days, depending on the weather.

They travelled deep into the forest to the west of Rouen, making sure to avoid St-Martin-de-Boscherville, along wide, shallow rivers and up steep tracks, past crumbling grey stone cottages, through sad villages, with scattered hens in the road, and the occasional child, up to their knees in mud. Once a joker called out, "where's the third wise man?" for it was approaching Epiphany and people were looking for signs from God, anything, to show them that easier times were approaching. But mainly they rode through ragged, muddy fields with not a sight nor sound of anyone at all. Erik was very pleased with himself for having insisted that they avoid the post road, and after a couple of hours seeing no one else at all, he had the confidence to remove the mask.

Erik watched Nadir as he rode on ahead of him. His riding ability had improved dramatically over the past few days; he sat tall on his horse, his back straight and his hips moving in time with the horse's body - Christ, stop that - and the animal had become steadier with Nadir's confidence. Really, he was the most miraculous man with his thick dark hair and his olive skin and his patience and his kindness and his madness. For Erik, the previous three days had been something of a revelation. Three golden days that were, he could safely say, the happiest of his entire life. He had felt deeply and profoundly content and had thought that he would be quite happy if he never had to leave the room again. He had all he needed, and when Nadir had left the room to get some air (Erik told him this was a ridiculous idea, they had more than enough air in the room without going out to get more, and refused to join him) and come back with several books it had confirmed to Erik that he would more than pleased to live the life of a complete recluse, needing only and forever Nadir and his air-getting proclivities for company.

But now Erik's mind was restless and soon it began to fold in on itself. Nadir was surely a madman, for who else but a madman would have taken off with him like this, plunging out of the light of Paris into the snow and the darkness? Only a madman or a very desperate one. Was it out of pure desperation that he had yoked himself to Erik? Because he had no other choice? Why else would Nadir be with him? That it might only be desperation was a very plausible reason and it made Erik's heart ache a little to think of it. He encouraged his horse into a trot – he never used spurs – and came alongside Nadir.

Nadir turned and smiled at him. "Hello, you. You are worried."

Erik caught his breath in surprise. He was so used to being able to hide his emotions behind the mask – or tell himself that he was hiding them – that being seen like this felt almost as if Nadir could read his mind. "Why did you come with me? Like this?"

"What choice did I have?"

"You came only because you had no choice? And if you'd had a choice? What then?

"You like this question, don't you Erik? I am wondering if we should have a set time of day each day when you can ask me." Nadir laughed, not unkindly.

Erik hung his head a little in shame. When would he ever be able to stop asking this?

"Ah don't look like that. You really are an open book to be read without that mask."

"I think I ought to put it back on." He went to open his satchel, slung over his right shoulder.

"No no, please don't. I like your face – and I like knowing what you are thinking. And what you were thinking – again – is what such a marvellous specimen – such as myself – is doing with - "

"You like my face?"

"Yes of course I do. I like all of you. I like your face."

Erik didn't know what to say to this. The man was mad. They rode on in silence for a while. That Nadir liked him – face and all – still didn't explain why he'd come with him.

"If you tell me why you came with me, once and for all, I'll never ask again."

"I do not believe you." He laughed. "But did you want me to come with you?"

Erik blinked and said softly, "of course – of course – I wanted you to come with me, I just knew the first moment I saw you. I – I - couldn't imagine you not coming with me. I can't imagine – "

"Well then, it is the same for me. It was not a case of, 'oh, let me decide what to do! Shall I go with Erik, or stay here and make a life for myself in Paris?' When I say I had no choice but to come with you, I mean it is because there was no choice. I knew I wanted to come with you and nothing else would do.

"Erik, when I lost the two people most dear to me in the world – the two I loved so much I would have died for them, I thought I was shattered into a thousand pieces. That I could never know myself enough to want to know anyone else. But then one day, you - strange, irritable, shouting, clever – you - stamped – or it is stomped -?"

"I would say neither. I'd like to think I graced the room with my presence – "

"Ah – what is it they say? That you are modest as well as handsome? And then one day you thundered into the room, and I'd never met anyone like you in my life. Someone so utterly themselves. And so completely bizarre! I could scarcely take my eyes off you – and I just knew. It all changed. There was no choice then, there is no choice now. Did the previous three days not prove that to you?"

Erik bowed his head again. He couldn't look Nadir in the eye. "Yes."

"Then it is settled! No need to worry!" Nadir smiled triumphantly.

Erik gave a little laugh "if only it were that easy."

They rode on for several more hours but the weather began to close in on them when they were still miles away from the town they had intended to reach by nightfall. Their map was of a poor quality, and only showed the major towns they would pass on their journey, and there was no spire on the horizon to indicate they were anywhere near human habitation.

"Erik, we will be in a ditch with the horses if we don't find somewhere soon."

"Don't start complaining. I will find us somewhere. Don't you trust me?"

Nadir did not reply

They continued on in silence. They had come to wide open plains with no shelter to be had from woodland and the weather was wretched. Erik began to feel a little desperate. He had enjoyed sleeping out in the night as a youth, finding secret places to watch the stars or people, high up in the branches of trees or on little secluded beaches, or watching from quiet places in the streets. But these outside nights were spent in places where the climate was warm and the darkness gentle, where nothing was needed to keep warm other than the shirt on his back. A frozen night in Normandy was not at all the same, and besides if he felt too old and weary for all that nonsense, he was certain that Nadir did too.

He had to find a place for them. He couldn't fail Nadir again.

After another half an hour or so of anxious travel without any hopeful signs, Erik brought his horse to a sudden stop.

"I am ill Nadir. I need to stop. I need to - "

Nadir drew up beside him. "This is chaos. You are - we have nowhere to stay. You want to do that. It's becoming more frequent - "

"I know, I know - it'll be better afterwards though, I'll -" Erik dismounted the horse and gave the reins to Nadir.

"I'm sure you will feel better. But you are holding us up!"

He sat down on the bank, on the roots of a solitary oak and, took off his gloves got what he needed from his satchel. "Do you think I like doing this? In the mud? At the rear end of a farting horse?"

"I don't know why you think you should like doing it anywhere."

"I daresay I'll run out of it before we arrive and then you'll see why - " Erik muttered.

He found a vein on the side of his right wrist and delicately pushed the needle in. He took a deep breath. It was great and blessed relief. He shut his eyes briefly to let the first of it pass, and then determined not to make more of a fuss that he already had, he gathered his things and got to his feet. Erik noticed that Nadir had turned himself away so as not to watch and at this he felt a confusing mix of shame and anger. He got back on the horse without a word and encouraged it into a trot.

And within twenty minutes of further silent travel, they came across some farm buildings that had light at the windows, the shutters still open, and as they drew closer, they saw there were several outbuildings including a barn and a cider-press arranged around a courtyard. There was smoke coming from the chimney.

They stopped the horses a short way from the farm.

Erik said, "This looks promising. They are still awake. We could ask if we could stay in their barn."

"A night in a barn. It is not quite a ditch, at least." Nadir looked entirely unamused.

"Which of us is less alarming? To go and ask?"

"I think possibly, if you went to the door – you should – ah – replace the mask – "

"Christ – I'd forgotten!" Erik laughed. "Jesus Christ Almighty, I can't imagine anything worse than me – " He opened his satchel to retrieve the mask. What was Nadir doing to him, making him forget – like this?

"Well – you would get a reaction – but possibly no night in the barn."

"Yes, alright – fuck off." He laughed again and finished tying it on. "I will go. I can at least sound like I'm from around here." He looked Nadir up and down. "They'll be confused by you."

"Confused by me, terrified by you. I think we will be very lucky indeed to be invited in. No, I will ask, Erik – I like your face very much, masked or unmasked and I do appreciate your, your - bravery in offering to ask them. I am alarming, but less so than you." And before Erik could protest, he swung down from his horse and waited to Erik to do the same, before handing him the reins.

"No, no – stop! It will not do for you to go. They will be confused by you!"

"We can stand here arguing about which one of us is less alarming and we will still not have a place to stay. I'll toss a coin."

Erik won. Or rather, he lost. He would go to the door.

"Don't sigh like that, Nadir. I am not a complete social failure." Oh, but you are!

The morphine gave him some semblance of confidence, but truth was he fucking hated this kind of encounter, one in which a door would be opened, and he would be suddenly and shockingly revealed – in all his weird glory.

And so, he knocked and soon he could hear excited voices inside coming closer to door, and it was flung open by a small, red-faced man with a huge grey moustache. Behind him were two equally small women.

"Oh!" the man gasped at the sight of him. "Saints preserve us! Who - what - are you?"

"Monsieur – good monsieur – please do not be alarmed," he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, and put on his thickest Normandy accent and used all the old words – "my companion and I – we are hoping that we – ah - could prevail upon your hospitality – and stay tonight in your barn – we are travellers – " Was this a normal thing to say?

"You're from round here? Where are you going? It is a terrible night to be travelling!"

"We are from Rouen. We are going to Granville, on the coast. The weather has thwarted us – we had intended to reach Brionne by nightfall."

"It is a long journey. What's with the - " he made a circling motion at his own face.

"It is because of an accident."

"Let me see." The man folded his arms. The women behind him crowded in the doorway to get a better look.

Fuck! "No – that will not be possible – the doctor – "

"Ah. "The doctor said." How do I know you are not a thief – in disguise!" The group continued to stare at him.

The panic was rising in him. It should be Nadir here, talking with them. "I will give you my money – not take yours! – for the inconvenience."

"I don't want your money." The man frowned at him. He turned back to the women Erik assumed were his wife and daughter and pushed the door so that it was almost closed. They held a loud conversation about what exactly they should do about the strange men on their doorstep. Evidently, they were very religious and considered that showing them hospitality was part of their Christian duty. Erik put his hands in his pockets. Whatever they decided their duty was he hoped they'd hurry up and make a decision. He was freezing. He heard the horses behind him snort and pace the ground.

Finally, the man opened the door to Erik. His demeanour had changed, and he was now welcoming and generous. "My good wife says she has enough in the pot to feed you both. And you can stay in the barn tonight. It is warm in there. With the animals. We want payment only in the form of a story. From both of you – it is very lonely around here, especially in the winter. We want the entertainment of strangers!" He gave Erik a broad smile and then called into his house for his son – Albert – to show them to the barn to leave the horses.

Soon they found themselves standing in the bright warm kitchen of the Courcy family, the man and his wife, their three children – two daughters, one of whom seemed of a similar age to Erik, one daughter of about seventeen and a younger son – and their maid and a farmhand. He and Nadir appeared to be giants amongst these people – the tallest of whom was several inches shorter than Erik. They were greeted by the family with blank-faced stares at their eccentric appearance and height, but they were soon chattering all around them, busy with the food and the table and teasing each other.

And because it was so unlike anything Erik himself would have considered, he hadn't at all anticipated being invited in to eat with this family. If he had been a farmer answering the door to two strange travellers asking for a place to stay, he would have sent them straight to the barn and hoped they left before dawn.

This situation was possibly even worse than any Erik would have found at a post-road inn, for there was no chance at all of eating in private and the interest shown in them was personal. There would be no escape from these people this evening. They were invited to sit at the large kitchen table with the rest of the family, extra chairs were found from other parts of the house, and people sat close together to make room for the unexpected guests. They were all given bowls of rich meat stew and cabbage and bread. They were a noisy, ebullient group who, despite their initial hesitation, seemed to relish the chance to entertain strangers at their table. Erik felt extraordinarily awkward, to the extent that he could hardly look up, let alone join in any kind of conversation and he could only manage to eat slowly, pieces of bread dipped in the stew, his stomach churning. The difference between the two family tables he'd eaten around recently couldn't be more stark.

Nadir, on the other hand, was entirely at ease. He was open and friendly, and they liked his accent and wanted to see his brown skin, and he was soon laughing and joking with the family as if they were his own long-lost relatives. Erik listened to him, for they were sitting next to each other - Nadir was engaged in a highly animated discussion about the finer aspects of goat-keeping – and he felt himself relax a little with the joy of this man and felt deeply grateful for the fact that he could quite literally hide himself behind Nadir, who was happy to speak enough for both of them.

Presently, Monsieur Courcy brought out the cider. Nadir politely refused it. The family all noticed and fell into a shocked silence.

Erik turned to him and whispered, "don't be a tit. If you refuse, they'll think you are very rude. And besides, you're just about to spend a night in a barn. In the winter. You can't be sober for that."

Monsieur Courcy looked back to Nadir, who gave him a little nod. Cider was poured for him; all would be well. The noise and chatter resumed.

Erik drank little of the stuff, knowing immediately that it was very strong and that he risked certain disaster to both drink the cider and so soon fill his veins with morphine. Nadir on the other hand, had no such compunction, and he drank it recklessly for he was an entirely new and inexperienced drinker, which amused Erik no end. He wondered how the night would continue from here.

And when they all finished eating, the women cleared the tables and Monsieur Courcy announced that it was time for them to give their payment in the form of a tale. Nadir, made loquacious with the drink, launched into a loud and meandering tale of love and loss, thievery and heroism, angry fathers and weeping daughters, and finished it with a ridiculous joke about a dog. The family laughed and cried in equal measure and begged him to tell another one.

And then it was Erik's turn. He had said very little up until this point, and when invited to do so by Monsieur Courcy said. "Ah, I am not a story-teller like our friend Nadir, but I am a musician, and I would be greatly relieved if you would excuse me from a story, and instead allowed me to play you a tune on my violin."

The truth was he did not want to perform, not at all. Yes, fine – in front of Nadir, an appreciative audience of one – he had so quickly established that it was an entirely different experience being looked at by Nadir. But in all other circumstances he loathed being watched so openly. He was always, always, haunted by memories of the fair. In his adolescence, when travelling about Europe with Guizot he was regularly made to play for the people of the houses where they were staying. He had, at first, tried to refuse to do this, but Guizot had threatened to take away his violin and prevent him playing the piano if he did not comply and so he had been forced to perform out of sheer desperation. He had learned to cope with his hatred of performance by imagining himself while doing it to be someone entirely different, certainly not himself, maybe a supernatural creature – a demon or an angel – something or someone who didn't have horrible memories and odd, irrational fears and who wanted to cry all the time.

But there was still a curious desire to show off and he knew that he could manipulate people with the artistry of his playing. This ability to manipulate gave him an unsettling sense of power. A massive fuck you to the people who forced him to do this; if you will make me cry inside, I will make you cry and weep and wail in front of everyone. And then I will walk away and I will close my heart to you. He had long fantasized as a boy about inventing elaborate ways of performing so that people would not see him – ways to invert the old adage about children being seen and not heard, so that he could inflict himself upon them without the horror of being watched and judged by them.

Monsieur Courcy magnanimously waved his hand in a kingly gesture, which Erik took to mean yes – and he went to the hall to fetch the violin. Despite all the weather, the violin had remained dry, for he had hidden her well under his long coat as they rode. Erik stood in the kitchen to tune her while everyone watched him with silent anticipation.

And somehow this performance, here, with these people and Nadir, felt entirely different to the ones he'd given in the great houses he'd visited in the past. He felt that he could perform here out of a sense of common feeling, of communal enjoyment, a far cry from the alienation and anger he'd felt when performing as a youth. It felt this evening like he was a part of it all, included in the fun of it, rather than an object to be looked at and commented on. It was a new feeling and one he realised he liked.

Monsieur Courcy said, "we have never had a musician in our house before – only singers." He gestured at his wife.

Erik smiled at him. "I hope I shall live up to the honour – "

"What will you play for us Monsieur?" the farmhand called.

"Anything you like – " Erik called back. He felt open and happy.

"Something sad – to pull on our heartstrings!"

"No – no, something fast – monsieur, don't listen to her – "

And they all began to argue about what he should play.

With a sense of great satisfaction, he shut them all up with a huge and powerful chord, played across all four strings – he heard them gasp – and then he launched into a Russian song; in a minor key, it started slowly and rhythmically, becoming faster and faster and until they were shouting and clapping along with it and they all gave a cry when he finished. They made him laugh with their enthusiasm – yes, this is so different to before. And they shouted for more, another one – his music rousing them to great excitement.

One of the daughters called out, "play us a waltz and we'll all dance – "

And everyone agreed and the chairs were tucked under the table, partners were found, and Erik, caught up with it all, got up onto a chair in the corner of the room, which made everyone laugh even more. And he played them a waltz, slowly at first, teasing and sedate, gradually increasing in tempo until they weren't waltzing but galloping round and round the kitchen, all laughing with delight. And then another, and another – each time the dancing grew wilder, and the laughter more raucous.

There came upon the group an atmosphere of great hilarity. Their faces were flushed with exertion and joy and the room grew hot as they danced. Round and round they went, almost wild with the release of it, with his music; Nadir had taken into his arms the eldest daughter and she danced with him with great abandon and Erik watched them most of all. Would this have been what Nadir was like with his young wife? And he smiled to himself; would he and Nadir would ever dance like that together?

Finally, Monsieur Courcy slumped down in a chair. "Ah I am exhausted." He called to his wife, "Hélène, you will sing for us now, and our musician friend shall play alongside you – "

Hélène made a little show of not wanting to sing, but they pulled her up onto the table to everyone's great amusement. She was a short, muscular woman of about forty, her long brown hair in a thick plait down her back. Her three children evidently regarded her singing ability highly.

Erik jumped down from the chair and gave her a little bow. "Madame, you are the star of this little show. I will play from the floor. You sing the first verse and I will join you after that."

Her voice was a strong contralto, filled with a yearning passion that raised her simple folk song to something quite beautiful. She seemed to sing to him alone. He joined her on the violin in the second verse, pulling out the harmonies, becoming the undertow of melody, and with this they both seemed aware of a subtle shift in the feeling of the room, the listeners becoming more intent, drawing them in. He felt something stir within his heart, a warming, something that drew him out of himself; he began to hum as she played, adding further to their music, building on it, and she responded to him by increasing the fervour with which she sang.

For the last chorus, he brought the violin away from his shoulder, put the bow down and he was suddenly and intensely moved to sing with her, his clear, powerful tenor joining her voice, mixing it with it perfectly, bringing it forth. As he began singing, she faltered a little, but he made a slight gesture with his right hand as if he were beckoning her towards him and he did his best to communicate with his eyes; Sing! Sing!

And how she responded to him! Their voices were so intimately entwined. And she held the last remarkable note as long as he did, still looking intently at each other and when they fell silent there was that moment of echoing silence from the listeners that comes after a moment of great beauty. And then they all erupted into shouts and applause laughter and Nadir took the eldest daughter in his arms and they kissed, and all the while Nadir kept his eyes on Erik as if to say, if this could only be you.

And Erik looked back to Hélène, still smiling in her triumph and found himself wondering; what would it have been like to be this woman's son? To have been born into this warm family, instead of at the cold and bitter hearth of his own mother's heart?

And afterwards there was more singing and more dancing and laughter and a vast quantity of cider was drunk, until the early hours of the morning, a bright whirl of unexpected festival in the depths of a cold and dark Normandy winter.

Finally, when the family and the farmhand and the maid were all exhausted, and mainly entirely drunk, Erik and Nadir were given a gas lamp and some hastily assembled blankets and their coats and everyone came out into the courtyard and accompanied them to the barn, still singing, still swirling and laughing. Erik was all but carrying a giggling Nadir, who was draped round in his shoulders in order to stay upright. He thought that he had never been put to bed by so many people in all his life.

And when they were left alone in the barn, Nadir swung himself round and put his face very close to Erik's, still holding onto him too tightly for support, and glassy-eyed but deadly serious, slurred, "I really love you, you stupid man."

Erik laughed at him and untied the mask, and they kissed at last, greedy and sloppy, hands everywhere and then they collapsed in the hay together, Erik almost crushed under the laughing weight of Nadir. Nadir, discovered that a man in drink might be passionate and desirous of his lover but is disappointingly weak in his ability to enact those passions. But nevertheless, although Nadir was suffering a rare lack of ability in his trousers, he did not lack ability at all in hands, at least when he had Erik's cock in them, and he pulled Erik off, long and slow, to Erik's great satisfaction, the gas light fading and in the gentle presence of the cow and their horses and a suspiciously quiet goat.

Very early, Erik was woken by the sound of liquid reverberating in a metal bucket. He roused himself onto one elbow enough to see Nadir huge upon a tiny milking stool, his head resting upon the side of the patient cow, milking her. And then he stopped and brought the bucket to his mouth and drank from it deeply.

Erik laughed at him, "what the fuck are you doing? You can't drink all their milk!"

Nadir finished drinking and wiped his mouth. "Ugh. I am so thirsty. I feel so sick." He flopped against the cow again.

Erik cackled. "You succumbed to the demon drink and now you are being punished!"

"It is your fault."

"I didn't force it down your throat."

"I don't know how you do it."

"Practice."

"Oh, good God, I think I am still drunk."

"You probably are." Erik lay back down in the hay where he and Nadir had spent the night in a great bundle of limbs and coats. This time he found himself lying against another warm body and he turned to face the arse of a goat. For fuck's sake. His own sickness was nothing to do with alcohol.

He found his satchel and did what he needed to do.

When he came back to himself, Nadir was still trying to find healing with the juice of a cow. Erik felt a sudden pity for him and roused himself and went and crouched down next to him. He reached out, quite tentatively, and rubbed his back.

"I am sorry you feel ill. It is very funny though."

And they sat together in silence, with Erik's hand resting on Nadir's back, the only sounds were the soft sounds of the animals, the milk ringing in the bucket and the rain outside.

Erik did not notice the barn door being opened a crack, for they were both hidden from the door behind the cow. He did not notice a boy enter the barn and walk around to their side of the cow. He only noticed the boy when the boy started screaming.

Instinctively, and quite the opposite of what any normal person would have done at the sound of screaming, Erik instantly looked away. He growled at Nadir, "get him out."

Nadir shot up, kicked over the bucket of milk, all but stepped over the crouching form of Erik, and bodily removed the still screaming boy from the barn.

Inside, Erik jumped to his feet, his heart hammering and raced about the barn, almost falling several times, gathering his things and Nadir's from about the hay and tying on the fucking mask. What a fucking stupid man he was, so fucking naïve and trusting, to sit about unmasked, a ridiculous, careless, fucking dolt. How quickly his horrible face could ruin things. They would have to make a quick escape from the place now that his face had been seen. He began to frantically saddle up the horses. He could hear snatches of the heated discussion Nadir was having with the farmer – "no, he is not a monster – it was an accident – we are very sorry – we are leaving – "

Suddenly Monsieur Courcy burst past Nadir into the barn. "Take off the mask! My boy says you have the head of death – you are a devil! You have surely brought a curse upon my house! I let you sing with my wife!"

Erik was standing by his horse. He remained utterly still and said not a word. He could see through the barn door that the rest of the family had assembled outside in various states of dishevelment. As he had predicted, being in such close proximity to unsuspecting others had ended in disaster.

His overwhelming desire was to run – mount the horse and gallop away from these people as fast as he could, like an animal, not the man he was trying so hard to be.

Or he could use his face as a weapon against these people, to shock and scare them, as he had tried to do with Rafael. But doing this had brought him very low, almost to the point that he had thought that he might break completely. Revealing his face like that had made him feel so deeply disconnected from himself and others, as if he wasn't even human, completely separate, at a time in his life when he wanted more than anything to belong and to be included, that he knew he couldn't do it again.

"Well – don't just stand there, demon! What do you have to say for yourself – let me see your face!"

Erik continued to stare at the man. He tried to slow his breathing. And there came upon him a curious sense of calm, in spite of the panic. Was there another way? Could he talk to these people? Explain what he was? For the first time in his life could he try to have some semblance of dignity about his face – he would not tear off the mask to shock them, he would not have it forcibly removed, he would not fucking cry. Nadir had seen his face and kissed him, many times. His terrible mother – even her - had allowed him to sit at her table unmasked. It could be done! He could let them see his face and he could behave like a man.

Erik moved towards him, leading the horse. He was still breathing fast, "Monsieur, let me speak to you. And your family. Outside – "

The man frowned at him but turned and left the barn first. "The devil wants to talk to us!" he shouted.

Erik finished pulling on his long coat. He mounted his horse and took the reins of Nadir's horse and rode slowly out into the grey courtyard. He was still filled with this strange sense of calm and determination. He looked down at them all standing there, and being so far above them all, even Nadir, was very pleasing. He took a deep breath. They stared up at him in confusion. The horses snorted in the cold air.

"Mesdames, messieurs, it seems I owe you all an apology. I made your boy very scared and have convinced him that I am some sort of monster. I want you know I am not monster but an unfortunate man. I will show you my face, Monsieur Courcy, as you have asked, so that you can judge for yourself, but I must ask - please - that you all try to refrain from screaming. It is very, " he shut his eyes, reached up to unite the mask and gritted his teeth, "it is very distressing for me - to be, ah - screamed at -"

"Monsieur, no, please - you don't need to do this!" It was Hélène. "Albert was rude to come in on you like that. Before you were ready. It has been a terrible misunderstanding. You told us yesterday you wear a mask because of an accident and that is a good enough reason for us. I - we - " She looked furiously at her husband, "we know that you are not a monster or anything else for that matter. Please!"

Erik brought his hands down from his head, leaving the mask on. In that moment he felt a kind of love for her, so profound was his gratitude for her words. But he knew they had to leave immediately to avoid this situation getting further out of hand, to take advantage of the time the woman had gained them. He held out the reins to Nadir. Erik had slung Nadir's coat over the horse, and now Nadir put it on, took the reins and mounted the horse.

"Very well. Thank you, Madame. Please accept my sincere apologies for frightening your son." He stared at the boy, now quiet. Would the boy ever be asked to apologise for frightening him? Of course not! "My friend and I are grateful for your kind hospitality. In the barn. With the animals. We will leave now and promise never to return."

They both left the courtyard at a trot, took the road to the west and did not look back.