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They both nodded. In an unguarded moment, I realised that for the first time ever, I had actually used Dean Grayson's Christian name. I gathered myself and took Harry to my car. Minutes later we were heading back home. We drove home in silence, Harry very quickly falling asleep.

The following morning, I was woken by the sunlight streaming through my kitchen window. Last night, I had settled Harry in my guest bedroom and had gone downstairs to try and make sense of what my friend was going through. At some point, I must have fallen asleep on the hard wooden chair and slept through the night. I attempted to straighten up, but all this achieved with a pained yelp on my part and a feeling like I had caught my tail in a vice. Very slowly, I levered myself out of the chair and began to potter about the kitchen. The clock radio on the worktop switched on as 6 a.m. came round, so I sat with a cup of coffee to listen to the news.

Above me, I could hear Harry stirring. He had always been an early riser and I was glad that the experience of the previous day had not completely removed the Harry Cormack that I knew. A few moments later, Harry poked his head around the door. He smiled faintly and sniffed at the aroma of coffee. He still looked tired, but it was good to see him smile.

'Morning, Nerd.' He said quietly, 'Do you think you might spare some coffee for me?'

'Sure.' I replied. I waved at him to sit down and fished a mug out of the cupboard. I placed the mug and coffeepot in front of him and shunted the milk jug and sugar bowl across the table to him. I noticed that as he poured his coffee, his paw visibly shook.

'Do you want some breakfast?' I asked.

Harry granted a yes at me from the depths of his mug. I put out my meagre selection of breakfast items on the kitchen table. I wasn't much of a breakfast eater, so I always felt a poor host in the mornings. Harry looked at my offering and grunted again.

'How about we go out for breakfast?' I asked, 'There's a lovely café over in Amblehead that does good cooked breakfasts.'

'Yeah, sure. I could go for a fry up.' Said Harry.

I took this as a good sign. Ever since I had known him, Harry had been a fiend for cooked breakfasts. On feast days at seminary we would have a cooked breakfast and somehow Harry always managed to be first in the queue; and go back for seconds.

'Good,' I said, 'I'll just changed into some reasonable clothes and we'll go.'

It wasn't something I cared to admit, but I used to spend my time at home in tatty shorts and faded convention T-shirts. It was also my firm belief that no one should see their parish priest in a shirt that said "Anskar's RPGSoc: Sleep, Game, Repeat" on it. As I got up, I noticed that Harry was looking at his own clothes - the black suit he had been wearing since yesterday was rumpled and covered in dust.

'Nerd,' he said, 'Do you think I could, you know, borrow something else to wear?'

I nodded and went to find a shirt and some jeans for him. Thankfully, we were both of the similar height. Once I had changed, I sat in the hall to wait for Harry. As he walked down the stairs, I realised that I had overlooked something: although we were of a similar height, Harry actually had muscle tone; whereas I was quite scrawny. A muscle tone similar to boiled string, Harry said. He was struggling valiantly with the collar on the shirt I had lent him.

'Blast it,' I heard him mutter, 'I'll just leave the dratted thing undone.'

He looked up as he reached the bottom step and said:

'Thanks, Nerd, but I'm not sure that I could ever get this collar closed.'

I smiled and replied:

'I think you're entitled to not be immaculately turned out once in a while.'

He smiled back, the tip of his tail curling up as it did whenever he thought something was funny, but only just funny. We left the house and drove off. The Amblehead Road skirted the edge of the Oxfold Estate before crossing the river and climbing up the wooded hillside. I had always thought the woods to be very pleasant, the ancient oaks and elms cast the road in a cool, green light.

We drove in silence, the only sound in the car with Harry drumming his claws lightly on the dashboard. Amblehead sat on the crest of a hill, it was a pretty town that had grown up around Amble Castle. We wound through the cramped streets and I parked on the marketplace. We got out of the car and crossed the road to the Castle View Café. The café was just being opened for the day. Inside we could see its owner bustling around. She was an elderly Airedale terrier with a permanent look of disappointment on her muzzle. The bell above the door tinkled as we entered. Without looking round the terrier said:

'Take a seat, love, I'll be with you in a moment.'

We sat down at one of the little Formica topped tables in the café's window. I looked through the menu while Harry watched the town slowly come to life as its inhabitants began their days. A few minutes later the owner came up to our table brandishing a notepad and a pen like they were weapons of war.

'What'll it be?' She asked.

'Could I have the eggs Benedict and a pot of tea?' I said.

'Full breakfast please.' Said Harry, 'And a glass of orange juice. Thanks.'

The terrier nodded appreciatively at Harry's order and shot me a glance as if to say that I didn't take breakfast seriously enough. She bustled off and from the kitchen came the clanking of pots and pans. This was accompanied by a muffled 'Eggs Benedict, well!'

I looked at Harry and said:

'How are you, Harry? Yesterday came as a shock to me and to Bishop George as well.'

Harry looked at me and in his eyes I saw a deep sadness. I wondered how long he had been carrying such a burden.

'Yeah, sorry.' He replied, 'it's just... Just. It's just that I had thought that the guilt would fade. Those lads were my responsibility and I let them down in the worst way possible.'

I opened my mouth to say something, but Harry held up a paw.

'No,' He continued, 'Don't say it. I know what the court of enquiry said. It doesn't change the fact of what happened. The enquiry report didn't say what I told them. It's not wrong, just cold, clinical.

'We were a little way up that road. I was in the front-most vehicle. I was supposed to be checking the terrain so that we could get some heavy stuff up to that village - they wanted a forward operating base there or something.

'They attacked us with mortars. The first I knew was when the vehicle behind me flipped over as the first shell hit. It seemed to happen in total silence: there was a red-black rose of fire that seemed to bloom on one side of the tank; and then it just rolled over. Then, I heard the blast.

'You know, I found myself mesmerised by the swirling cloud of dust that the mortar shell had kicked up. I came to my senses and started barking orders, trying to get us into a position where we could fight back.

'I remember how the trees seemed to be pressing in around us, as if the forest itself seemed to want to get in our way.

'That first shell was a ranging shot. They must have had spotters in the trees near the road, because the next attack was heavy and accurate. I couldn't make out the individual explosions, there was just a solid wall of noise. There was a constant flaring and roiling of fire. All I could do was watch as the flames engulfed the last tank in our convoy. Strangely, my memory from there is silent - just images.

'I saw how my own vehicle was hit. How it rocked away from the blast. I felt myself being thrown clear. And, I saw how the tank landed on its turret - trapping my crew inside. I watched as a machine designed to protect its crew became their coffin. I watched as the last shell dropped, its blast pushing my tank up the hill.

'I lay there and watched as my consciousness faded away.

'I woke up three days later in a field hospital. I had been found by the rescue patrol that had been sent out when my unit failed to make contact. I was the only survivor and had been shipped back to our operational headquarters.

'The medics had operated on me for ten hours. They said that they had to remove 50 pieces of metal from my body and reattach the tip of my left ear.'

Harry returned to silence. I stared at my paws on the table-top, I was amazed. As far as I knew, Harry had never told anyone about the attack; except for his official report to the court of enquiry. The little café seemed dark and grim to me, as if touched somehow by the horrors that Harry had endured.

The gloom was broken by the return of the terrier bearing a tray with our breakfasts on it. The contents of the tray were placed on the table and of the terrier disappeared back into the kitchen. Harry chased a piece of mushroom around his plate with his fork.

'Ten years,' He said, 'Ten years have passed, but I still see that forsaken place every time I close my eyes.'

He sighed and stared out the window.

'I shouldn't have lumbered you with this, Francis.' He said.

'Harry,' I replied, 'I've known you for eight years now. I don't know what to say or do - I can't make it better, but whenever you need to talk, you know I'm ready to listen.'

I paused for a moment and then added:

'Also, it sounds weird when you call me Francis.'

Harry snorted and grinned at me. There was a brief flash of the Harry Cormack I knew, a glimpse of his sense of humour.

'Yeah, sorry, Nerd.' He replied and then glanced out the window again.

'Do you know that stag?' He said, 'Only he keeps waving at us.'

I looked at Harry askance. Then, I looked out of the window and saw that there was indeed a red deer stag waving his hoof at me. I gazed blankly at the stag for a second, then I stared at Harry.

'Oh, heck.' I said, 'That's Mike Buck, I went to university with him; or in spite of him.'

Harry laughed at this, causing the café owner to poke her head out of the kitchen to tut at such behaviour.

'Oh look, he's coming over.' Said Harry, a grin covering his features. Although I was dreading seeing Mike Buck again, that smile was a gladdening thing. I knew that, at least for the moment, Harry was back to his former self.

The shop bell tinkled as Mike Buck walked in. He was a tall red deer stag with surprisingly short antlers and a physique that spoke of more than just average exercise. In one hoof he carried a black briefcase, and with the other he pointed at me.

'Good grief,' He boomed, 'Nerdy Francis Shepherd! What are you doing here?'

Buck grabbed a chair and dragged it up to our table and sat down heavily.

'Hi!' He said to Harry, 'Mike Buck, I'm the manager of the Equine Savings Bank over the way.'

Harry took the proffered hoof and suppressed a wince as Buck shook it and tried to crush Harry's paw.

'This is Reverend Harry Cormack.' I said, 'He's a friend of mine.'

'Reverend? You're a padre then?' Said Buck, 'So, how'd you know the IT department then?'

I cringed to hear that nickname again. I had hated it at university and it didn't sound any better now. Harry gingerly extracted his paw from Buck's grip.

'We trained together,' said Harry, 'I met Father Francis at seminary.'

At this I took some joy in the confusion that Buck found himself in. I shouldn't have taken pleasure in it, but it was rare to see Mike Buck lost for words. Buck stared at me.

'You're a priest?' He said.

'Yes,' I replied, 'And, I think you're moving into my parish.'

This confused Buck even further, so I added:

'I bumped into Laura yesterday afternoon. She is teaching at the school in the village. Congratulations on the wedding by the way.'

'Well, err, thanks. I'd better be going.' He said.

And with that Buck left the café and walked slowly over to the bank.

'Now, that was interesting.' Said Harry.

'Yeah,' I replied, 'I'm his vicar and he's my bank manager.'

'Tell all, Nerd, I'm dying to hear.'

'After I've paid. I'd rather not discuss it in public, I know you too well.'

I could sense Harry's impatience to hear what I had to say the way back to the car. I also knew that he was never going to let me forget my experiences of Mike Buck at Anskar's. Nevertheless, I hoped it would help Harry to just be Harry for a while. Once we got back into the car I fixed Harry with my most piercing look.

'Harry,' I said, 'I want you to promise that this doesn't go any further. I managed to avoid this all coming out at seminary and I don't want the entire diocese to know.'

'I promise, I promise.' Said Harry, holding up his paws.

'Good.' I said, 'Mike Buck and I really didn't get on at university. He used to play rugby for the Varsity side and he was after a girl I liked. I never told her that I felt that way about her and, well, now she's married to him. Anyway, Mike Buck made my life a living hell, or tried to, the last time I met him he tried to glue my tail to a bench in a bus stop. And once, he chased me three times around the entire campus.'

I had to stop as Harry was doubled up with laughter. We drove home. I knew that my efforts weren't much, but, as we travelled along, I was aware of Harry relaxing. For now, I thought, his horrors were passed.

By the time we arrived home it was as if the old Harry had never left.

'Do you remember that time when I got Brian Strix to climb the West Front of the cathedral with me?' Harry asked.

'Oh yes.' I replied, 'Until then I didn't know that owls could get vertigo. What was that for?'

'Mission Aid Week, I think. Didn't old Father Lutra put a ban on me doing things for sponsorship after that?'

'Well,' I replied, 'You did get Brian stuck halfway up the cathedral._ And_ you had to carry poor Helen Mustela back from your "sponsored walk" which sounded more like a forced march to me.'

'Oh, yeah. How are they doing, do you know?'

'Helen is teaching and working as a school chaplain.' I replied. 'And, I think that Brian is a missionary somewhere.'

'What? Brian?' Said Harry, 'I thought he couldn't be more than half a mile from a posh supermarket without feeling ill.'

'Yeah,' I laughed, 'Look it's my day off today and you're supposed to be having a break from parish life, I thought we could go to look at the ruins of an old Abbey that is not too far away.'

'Okay,' Replied Harry, 'What's got you interested in archaeology all of a sudden?'

I explained to Harry the gist of Anna's story.

'... So, I thought it would be interesting to check it out.' I finished.

'That sounds good.' Said Harry, 'with my parish work, I don't think I've done any walking pleasure in an age.'