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men held a meeting. There was a big clunch pit on the edge of the camp and they would walk around it to the far side and sit behind the bushes, so that they had their privateness from the rest of the camp. I did something I had never dared to do in my whole life before, or since. I followed my Dadus, at a safe distance, mind, then peeled off and went down into and up the other side of the pit, so’s I could hide behind the bushes and listen to what they said.
    It was a wicked thing to do, as I was naught but a girl, and I knew’d if I was caught listening to the men talking the talk I would be beaten to blazes. But I was passionate about the lunatic then, in the same way that my cousin Elias was passionate about the mongrel puppy he had bought off the farmer the week before. The lunatic was a gorjer, that much was certain, but he was my gorjer. I think I had somehow got the idea that I could feed him bread soaked in milk, like Elias did his puppy, and bring him back to health. I think it was due to me not having had any little brothers or sisters and not having enough things to look after. There were plenty of babies in our camp – we were in a big camp then – but there were lots of young girls as well and I only got jobs like cleaning and butter churning and I think I thought I was big enough for more than that.
    The meeting was a great disappointment, as they rambled on about men’s stuff – the horses and the metal-working – and I couldn’t for the life of me think why it was always such a big secret when they went off to talk for it’s not as if the rest of us would be interested anyway.
    Then it came to my lunatic. My Dadus said how he thought it might be useful to have the mumper around for a bit, as he could be put to work fetching and carrying and how we could leave him when we moved on to Corby. And one of the other men said how my Dadus would have to be responsible and Dadus agreed and that was the end of it.
    And before they had finished talking I slithered back down into the clunch pit and scrambled up the other side and got my clothes all chalky but I didn’t care as I ran back to our camp across the fields because I couldn’t wait to see my lunatic.
    And so it was, the very next day, I had him carrying sixteen buckets of water to and from the well, while I walked behind him. And he was as quiet and biddable as a lamb, and the other girls crowded round me asking me how I had tamed him so quick and I could see in their eyes that they were right jealous and wanted to go out in the fields and get their own lunatic.
    I was only a biti chai, otherwise I would have realised that someone in the village would have seen him going to and from the well with me and said something to someone else.
    That evening, I took my lunatic a plate of potatoes and a cup of buttermilk. He was sitting on the edge of the camp, cross-legged, seeming to understand how he mustn’t go too close to anyone’s vardo or interfere with anything. I carried the tin plate over, heaped with potatoes and onions all fried up nice and brown, and a spoon to go with and the cup in the other hand, and he looked up at me with shining eyes as he took it all from me.
    I sat down next to him, at a little distance, and watched him feast. He ate and drank with great purpose, like a man who could not think of anything else until it was done.
    When he had finished, he put his plate on the grass and looked up at the sky. It was a warm evening. The last of the sun was on his face. He belched, then stared at me. His look made me uncomfortable, so I turned away. When I glanced back at him, he was staringat our camp. The women were all cooking, and smoke rose from the fires and drifted around, hazing everything: evening light, golden. It suddenly came to me, all at once, how good my life was, for I was seeing it through his eyes.
    My lunatic gave a sigh. ‘I wish I could die, here and now,’ he said, his voice quite level and normal. ‘For I think there