But they don't need a compass after all. They are adventurers, after all. Compasses are things that boys and dads tend to have, but which, when they are alert and strong at heart, they can leave behind. It is no accident that they both left their compasses behind.
     'I keep mine by my bed,' he tells his dad. 'Where do you keep yours?'
     'In my desk,' says the man.
     The boy nods with satisfaction. He struggles unsuccessfully to get his arm in his rucksack strap; his arm flails.
     The man's chest twists. He holds the strap wide so the boy can get his arm in. The horse nuzzles the rucksack top and the man pushes her away."God, you must think I'm really boring if you find that old book more interesting than me," she'd said after a while.
     "No, sorry, I just picked it up to look at it then I got involved." He turned back a few pages. "Listen to this. 'If a novelist were to develop his characters evenly the three hundred pages novel might extend to five hundred. The additional two hundred pages would offer pictures of the sex side of the characters and would compel them to become alive.' What do you think of that?"
     "What do you mean, what do I think of it?"
     "Do you think it's true, that most people spend two fifths of their time thinking about sex?"
     "No. Well I don't, anyway. Do you?"
     Sam considered. "I think about it quite a lot," he said. "More than I admit even to myself, really. I mean, take today for example, I kept looking at you, and I kept thinking how amazing it was that when we're alone I can see you naked and touch you. When we're in public places that just seems fantastic to me."
     Sam was surprised to see Helen blush.