Dubium

Dubium

Tami pulled over onto a quiet side road with a view of the church. It loomed foreboding above the tree line, conspiring to pierce the low bearing clouds to the point of puncture. We all dream of sun for our wedding day. Something about the rain’s intrusion just seemed… wrong.

‘It’ll ruin your dress,’ her passenger said, staring out at the gloom beside her.

‘The car park’s quite close to the entrance,’ Tami responded, ‘I’d only be out for a moment or two.’

‘That’s all it will take.’

As they listened to the patter on the windscreen, they held their silence. The time stretched itself thin, both agonisingly slow and way too fast all at once, concluding in Tami’s sigh.

‘If you don’t show up soon they’ll suspect I’m with you, those that know about me anyway. Emily will start asking about me.’

‘No,’ Tami said firmly, turning to force eye contact. ‘She won’t.’

Tami stopped to examine her hair, the natural brown combed back behind her shoulders, and caught sight of her own blonde twirls woven into her headpiece in the passenger window.

‘She can’t,’ Tami said more quietly, turning away from her reflection.

‘This isn’t you.’

Tami felt intruding fingers uncurling the styled strands and letting them fall flat to the side of her face. She had to make it stop. It had taken so much effort to put things in place.

‘It is today,’ Tami said catching the hand. She returned it to its owner, summoning the courage to look her in her baby blue eyes. ‘And it has to stay that way, forever.’ The latter elicited a scoff. It was perhaps a tad naive.

‘If marrying Emily is forever,’ her companion asked, ‘then why aren’t you inside?’

‘I wanted to face you before the ceremony,’ Tami said, ‘so I figured I’d go somewhere I knew you’d find me.’ She looked at the church. ‘Rather than watch Father remarry I came out here and worried about how fickle the heart can be. You were good company that day, but I didn’t expect us to grow so close.’

‘I kept you safe for so long.’

That voice had been weaker. Tami looked at her with a measure of pity and her expression softened, confrontational air waning.

‘But you were unfaithful.’

The delivery was so brutal it made Tami physically wince.

‘Rachel started sniffing around and pretty soon you didn’t have time for me anymore. It’s become a bit of a pattern for you, hasn’t it?’

‘Rachel was good to me,’ Tami said, closing her eyes against the painful recollection.

‘Until she wasn’t. You came crawling back to me soon enough.’

‘She made a mistake,’ Tami said pensively, ‘letting you back into my life was a bigger one.’

‘She wronged you.’

‘I could have forgiven her,’ Tami said, eyes beginning to water. ‘I’m sure if I-‘

‘I won’t let you.’

Tami nodded her head sadly, resisting the urge to touch her face. The tears there wanted to fall, but she couldn’t let them. A streak in her mascara would be too telling, an indication that she’d not been on her own. Misery loves company.

‘Poor Emily.’

It came out as a surprise. Tami noticed her rock a little, and felt revulsion as she noticed her grin and rub her hands with glee.

‘Rachel was the best thing that ever happened to me,’ Tami said quietly, ‘but it was you. You drove a wedge between us with your lies. When Rachel left, you were worse,’ her voice faltered under the weight of memories. ‘So much worse.’

‘That girl has no idea, does she?’

‘Emily keeps you away,’ Tami said. She felt close to screaming.

‘But not like Rachel did. With Emily I’ve been sharing you this whole time.’

‘There’s,’ Tami struggled to finish her thought. ‘There’s something different.’

‘You don’t love her.’

Tami sighed. She sighed deep. So deep, that when her lungs grabbed for air again she thought she might never stop inhaling and the air would pass right through her. She felt ten times lighter.

‘Thank you,’ Tami said. For the first time since she pulled up, she bore a smile. Heck, even the rain started to subside. ‘I, needed to hear you say it.’ She revelled in the stunned expression that greeted her. ‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed your family lingering around. When Emily and I announced our engagement, they went away for a while, but they’ve been everywhere I turn in the last couple of days. I can’t stand them. I won’t let you use them against me anymore.’

‘This isn’t fair on Emily.’

‘Yes it is,’ Tami said, voice growing in confidence with every word. ‘She loves me. I don’t-‘

‘It.’

‘Precisely,’ Tami said, grinning. ‘You wonder why you’ve never met?’

‘Wait!’ Tami grabbed a hold of her fingers, and started twisting her arm. ‘This isn’t fair on you!’ She yelped as Tami pinned her to the seat, arm wrenching back behind her.

‘It isn’t,’ Tami agreed. She took a deep breath. The time had come. ‘I’ve made my choice. I may never be rid of you completely, you’ll likely plague me forever.’ She battled the remaining arm that tried to fend her off, forcing it down beneath her knee. ‘But marrying Emily will keep your family away from me, and Emily will be happy. All she’s ever tried to do is help me. I don’t love her, but that’s okay. She never needs to know.’

Tami’s hands found their way up around her throat. It felt good. She tried to push them together as hard as she could.

‘This is not right!’

Tami could barely hear the words as the airway tightened.

‘What you’re doing is wrong!’

She stared her quarry in the eye, finding a power in the weakening resistance. ‘I know.’

* * *

Tami and Emily stood facing one another, both dressed in the divine white plumage of a couple of radiant swans. Tami scanned the pews, relieved to hold the duckling within at bay. Most of the congregation wore their best excited smiles, but she found a few faces that were more subdued in a pew on their own near the back. She knew they’d be there, and cocked an eye at them in silent warning.

The most important smile was inches from her face. It’s lips were moving but for a moment she couldn’t hear the words. Tami found herself dumbfounded, Emily looked beautiful. It’s just a shame she was picturing someone else.

‘This is the part where you say it back, silly!’ Emily said.

‘Right,’ Tami squeaked, suddenly aware of the minister’s concerned glare. She had a quick glance toward those subdued faces again, who were suddenly perking up with interest. ‘I mean I do.’ They slumped back down, gathering up their belongings and heading quietly for the exits. Tami smiled in relief, and turned to see the beaming faces of her family.

When it came to the kiss Tami hesitated, but only for a moment. She had a nervous glance towards the back pew, but thankfully none of them had lingered long enough to catch it and the seats remained empty.

‘You know I was joking when I said blondes have more fun, don’t you?’ Emily said, reaching up and pawing appreciatively at Tami’s hair. ‘But I must admit, it does make your eyes shine like an ocean.’

‘Pardon?’ Tami asked, suddenly feeling on edge.

‘What a cheesy thing to say,’ Tami heard from the back of the hall. ‘But then, isn’t that just Emily?’ The voice cut across the clamour like a knife. She turned around to see a lone figure staring across at her, taking up residence in the vacated pew.

‘I was trying to say something romantic! I think I’m just getting swept up in the occasion,’ Emily said. ‘Carpe diem.’

‘Carpe diem?’ Tami asked distractedly. It had disappeared, but she could still feel her presence close by.

‘Seize the day. It’s Latin.’

Tami looked over her shoulder but no one was there. She turned back to Emily and jumped as the previously seated figure stepped out from behind her.

‘You should probably Google it if you’re not sure.’

‘I know what it means,’ Tami whispered to her under her breath. ‘I just don’t know why she-‘

‘You don’t need to keep it like that forever though!’ Emily continued, completely unaware of the conversation going on around her.

‘Oh good,’ the figure chimed in, running her fingers through her own brown locks. ‘She’s practically begging you to introduce us!’

If Rachel couldn’t accept her then what chance did Tami have if Emily ever discovered her? She’d leave, and Tami would get no respite from her assailant. They’d be together forever. Together alone.

‘I, I don’t?’ Tami stammered.

‘Of course not!’ Emily giggled. ‘Forever is a long time!’

The figure raised her hands to Tami’s throat and pulled her close enough to pool their baby blue eyes together. ‘You’ll find that out soon enough.’

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* This story was first published 10/04/18 as part of Short Fiction Break's 2018 Spring Writing Competition - https://bit.ly/3kGnYxr

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Partners in Crime

 Partners in Crime

Jason coughed and spluttered, the smoke catching in his throat and part way up his nose.

‘Maybe Cigar Club was not the best idea.’ Chase laughed at the relief that swept across Jason’s face. ‘Let’s go back inside. It’s cold out here.’

‘Perils of you getting married in Autumn,’ Jason said with a grimace. The smoke was quickly whisked away on a snapping breeze that rustled the pile of damp brown leaves that had collected by their feet. He made sure it was out, then swept it and the ashtray into a carrier bag full of different sized boxes and tied it at the top, dumping it unceremoniously into the bin as Chase hauled open the doors and buffeted them with a wall of sound comprised of cheesy music and gaggled conversation.

‘How many of those did you buy?’ Chase joked, leading them to the bar.

‘Too many.’

‘You idiot. How did you expect us to get through them all?’

‘I dunno, I guess I thought it’d be like wine tasting you know? I got us a variety, just in case.’ Chase smiled knowingly as he signalled the hired barman to fetch them a drink.

‘I appreciate it.’

Jason caught the knowing look and folded in on himself. ‘I wanted to get it right. I feel bad that I’m not around anymore.’

‘Haha it’s alright, honestly. I know all about life getting in the way,’ Chase said, admiring the new shiny attachment to his finger. ‘Man, the adventures we had! You’ve got to live it up for the pair of us.’

Jason took a sip of his bitter drink. ‘Gallivanting is not all it’s cracked up to be you know, it can get lonely too.’

Across the sparsely attended dance floor, Carla was standing on her own beneath one of the house lights that edged the hired hall. The yellow light highlighted her high cheekbones, framing her glazed ocean blue eyes beneath her long dark locks, neatly curled and held in place by her subtle bridesmaid’s tiara.

A hand wafted before him, its closeness obscuring his vision. ‘… listening to me?’ Chase said, a goofy smile plastered across his face.

‘Sorry,’ Jason said, taking another deep swig of his drink. ‘I just can’t shake the feeling-‘

‘That it should be me buying cigars for your wedding?’ Chase suggested.

Jason nodded. He’d not consumed enough alcohol to diminish his inhibitions, with Chase he didn’t need to. He didn’t see him for years at a time, but put them back in a room together and it was as if they’d spent their entire life side by side.

‘After sixth form I got into university and she didn’t. Then when you had little Stevie she was with that prick James.’

‘John,’ Chase corrected.

‘Whatever happened to him by the way?’

‘Fuck knows,’ Chase said, ‘walked out on her and nobody ever heard from him again. That kind of thing happens to her a lot.’

There was a weight to the sentence that hit Jason deep in the pit of his stomach. A blow he was sure that Chase intended.

‘Hey, that was in September too right?’ He remembered the leaves outside of the venue, brittle and dry despite the chill wind. He remembered wanting to be warmer. ‘The baby shower? Why is that?’

‘Because me and Heidi were getting jiggy over Christmas. Stop stalling. Go over and talk to her. If anything’s gonna happen between you two it has to be now. I’m not conceiving another child just so you can fly back from wherever and spend the evening staring at her again. One’s enough, we’ve decided. I’m getting the snip.’

‘You’re wha-‘ Chase shoved him away before he could argue, then came in behind him and made a show of seeking out his new wife, drawing all the attention of the room as they prepared for their first dance.

‘Could’ve been us,’ Jason joked, as he stepped before Carla and took a place beside her on the wall.

‘Heaven forbid,’ Carla said and smiled.

For a moment Jason lost himself in her eyes trying to think of the right thing to say. His struggle seemed to please her and her eyes screwed a little tighter as her smile widened and she placed a comforting hand on his arm. ‘It does seem to,’ he said finally.

Carla looked at him intently.

‘I was talking to Chase about all the near misses we’ve had over the years,’ he said. ‘Something always gets in the way.’ Carla took a sip of her drink. ‘Or someone,’ he said, staring down at the engagement ring on her finger.

‘That didn’t stop us last time at Stevie’s baby shower,’ Carla said, pointedly removing it and slipping it into a stylish clutch bag.

It drew a grin from Jason. He remembered wanting to be warmer, then he remembered exactly how he achieved it. And who helped him. ‘You’ve not told anybody about that I hope?’

Carla shook her head. ‘That’s between us.’

Jason smiled. ‘Partners in crime,’ he said, which drew another warm smile from Carla.

‘Always.’

They watched silently as Chase and Heidi danced, camera flashes lighting the room, intermittently granting the illusion of daylight.

‘I meant me, actually,’ Jason said in an expulsion of breath. Carla turned back to face him. ‘The amount of times we’ve nearly got it together, and I’ve just taken off without a word.’

‘It’s alright,’ Carla said, turning her gaze back to the happy couple.

‘No, it’s not Carla. That kind of thing can really screw a person up. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t worry,’ she said smiling. ‘Partners in crime, remember? We’ll find a way.’

* * *

‘Nothing like death to bring two people together…’ Jason said. He’d caught up to Carla as she left the church, relieved that she was at the back of the trail and set a few paces apart. Carla smiled, her eyes partially hidden beneath the black funeral shroud.

‘I didn’t see you inside,’ she said, taking a step forward and initiating their rejoining of the melancholic procession.

‘My flight got delayed.’ He shook his head. It was only a month ago he’d taken a plane out of here. ‘I can’t get my head around this. Poison? Was it something they ate on their honeymoon? God, it must have been horrible!’

‘Arsenic,’ Carla said dispassionately, ‘after they got back.’

‘Right.’ He supposed she must have put herself through hell already, and simply had nothing left to give. Doubly so, if what he’d overheard from the people at the head of the procession had been true. ‘How are you coping?’ He bitterly remembered his and Chase’s conversation. ‘Paul walked out on you and nobody’s heard from him?’ he recited.

‘We were arguing about you actually,’ she said, and Jason found himself unable to form a reply before they joined the rest of the mourners huddled around the double burial plot.

Jason had a feeling that they were forming a protective shroud. The cold wind tore through them where it could, but their frames prevented the worst of the leaves, Autumn scheming to fill the plot with its own dead before they could lower the caskets.

The pastor relied heavily on the season during the ceremony. One line in particular about being cruelly struck down in ‘the Autumn of their lives’ struck a chord with Jason, and he reached out a hand to Carla, who emotionally clasped it in her own.

‘My plane leaves in a few hours…’ he said later, after the others had gone and left the pair of them alone. Carla looked up toward him from her place on his shoulder. ‘But what if this time you came with me?’ Carla smiled, wider than he’d ever seen it, and nodded her head. ‘If fate finally wants this to happen, surely there’s another seat available.’

They were intercepted before they reached the airport.

‘Carla Veyhar?’ an officer said, lights and sirens blaring from the squad car that pulled over their taxi. ‘You’re under arrest on three counts of murder.’

‘Three?’ Was all Jason’s mind could process’ ‘You killed them! Your own sister, Carla, why?’

‘After I killed Paul, I knew Chase’s funeral was the only way to bring you back.’

‘That’s one hell of a bat signal, lady,’ the arresting officer said as he cuffed her. She seemed to take it as a compliment.

‘Why aren’t you panicking?’ Jason almost shrieked.

‘Because we’re finally together. Partners in crime, remember?’

The officer shot a look in Jason’s direction.

‘She doesn’t mean-‘ But the officer was already reaching for Jason’s wrists.

‘She kills her husband, sends the signal, and you come back and book her a flight out of here? It’s not looking good.’

‘But she! I mean!’ Jason turned to her, exasperated further by her innocently uncomprehending smile. ‘This was supposed to be the Autumn of our lives!’

‘In that case,’ the officer said, tightening the cuffs to an uncomfortable degree, ‘it’s gonna be a helluva winter.’

__________

* This story was first published 05/09/17 as part of Short Fiction Break's 2017 Fall Writing Competition - https://bit.ly/36pOcPU

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Professional Courtesy

 Professional Courtesy

I've learned that crossing one's legs to show a need for the toilet is in fact, a hardwired universal convention. A group of young men enter the small commuter waiting room en route to London and the man behind me in the queue folds a leg in warning. Most are basking outside on the sun beaten concrete beside the platform, only one urgent reason forcing them to roast inside. The heat has encouraged a funky smell from the gents but with plenty of time before the next train we've subconsciously agreed to pare down to single file, politely allocating two minutes grace between users. The females come and go unaffected.

A neatly shirted man exits the public lavatory and makes a visible snap judgement of my character based purely on which 'rag' I'm hiding behind as he walks back past me. The upcoming election is forcing a host of colourful behavioural slips I'm not usually privy to. It's making my job easier. I'm not yet halfway to work and already closing in on my daily observational quota.

Two minutes pass. I fold the newspaper quickly, and place it on my seat. To dawdle now would be madness - I'm the centre of attention, the star of the show, though if you'd looked through the window at that moment you'd never have guessed it. I was so engrossed in the private performance I never even considered the freshly entered businessman a threat. The villain of the piece, he blustered past, swinging his briefcase in one arm and very deliberately checking his wrist clock on the other. I stood shock still, staring in disbelief as the door closed behind him.

Sensing the boiling blood of those around me, I gave the man in the queue behind me a woollen look. 'What planet is that guy from?' his mock-horror expression read, and he tutted on my behalf. I was caught in no man's land - I'd already promised my body that release was imminent in the standing up. 'When in Rome' I thought bravely, though in truth I've never been quite certain of its application.

I heard somebody gasp as I marched toward the door. Actually gasp. I crossed my leg again upon arrival hoping to explain my raucous behaviour, and then compounded my embarrassment when I failed to open the door. Professional acumen dictated I return to my seat at this point, but I was too frustrated to care.

I forced it open, failing to register the green gloop that stretched and snapped in the frame as I pushed through, in favour of the man's vacated face staring up at me from the tiled floor. A scream formed in my throat as I studied the empty skin, stretched out with nothing to pull around, and eyes that caved inward for the same reason. The scream escaped as I panned across from the shed fleshy, suited pile to lock eyes with its owner - a very startled looking blubbery slob of a naked Zarganoid (at least that what I presumed to name it) that drew a protective doughy limb across its sloped middle half to protect its modesty, splayed in cosmic fashion around the farthest urinal. Embarrassment, it appears is another convention shared across the far reaches of the galaxy.

'Is everything alright in there?' An alarmed voice called from outside. I heard a few scraped chair feet  but nobody wanted to break the two minute grace without good reason. Zaggy raised a gelatinous mandible in my direction, the green gloop from the doorframe forming on the end of a digit in order to dictate my response.

'Yes,' I called back, 'no problems,' and felt immediately grateful for the reserved British policy of non-intervention.

The sound of water running through the pipes above reminded me of my need. I went out on my limb, crossing one leg in front of the other, and took a tentative step toward the closest urinal. Old Man Zarg slowly retracted his threat,  but kept a casual focus on me as I awkwardly concluded my business.

Making sure not to step on his face on the way out, I  tuned in to hear the wet schnick as he resealed the doorframe up double behind me. I smiled disarmingly at the searching faces and escaped with my newspaper onto the platform before any could find a voice.

As luck would have it, when the train arrived my queue neighbour settled down beside me in our two front two back row of seats. A colleague once told me that men who go to war together become brothers because of the blood spilled rather than the blood they share, and I figured an attack on common decency in a public waiting room, a shared victimisation, must account for much the same.

Zargary took the seat directly opposite, openly staring at me for the rest of the journey. I was a tad more discreet, examining him with stolen glances as I turned the page.  His human suit had been hastily reattached and lay off centre, the droop it caused making him look nothing more than ugly in comparison to those around us. No one else could see the alien beneath the man, but what was I supposed to do? Scream?

No. When that Zarganoid finished compiling his dossier on human behaviour I wanted him to understand that stepping foot on Earth meant abiding by its conventions. After all, a chance interstellar encounter on neutral ground didn't necessarily make us enemies, and I knew full well what a thankless job it could be at times. He might not have learned the intricacies of queuing yet, or that privacy here is relative, but I think by the time he left the train a couple of stops later, unexposed and free to carry on his reconnaissance, that he went some way to understanding the bigger picture. Back home they'd call it one thing, on Zargonia another. On this planet, you'd call it a professional courtesy.

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* This story was first published 28/06/17 as part of Short Fiction Break's 2017 Summer Writing Competition - https://bit.ly/3mL30Pv

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Picture Perfect

Picture Perfect

The sun sets behind the trees, stoking the thinner patches of foliage to bleed through as though from behind a brighter filter. A golden streak of light exposes a gap between the leaves to cross the grass blades, stopping just shy of my feet. I will it forward, but its constant failure worries me I might have become a place where the light cannot penetrate.

                My brother jostles my arm and I let the thought fall onto the breeze, favouring him with a smile. We're squeezed together onto an aged park bench, Mother complaining about the state of it and causing the commotion as she frets over a weathered stain on the brittle wood that is probably older than I am.

                "People are staring." My brother complained. Well I can't say I blame them. Dressed to the nines in our summer finest, the park appeared to be nearing capacity. The photographer is struggling to capture the moment without granting Frisbee catching youngsters or small inquisitive dogs honorary membership to our family. He's stood arms crossed and brow furrowed as he analyses the latest snap on his tripod mounted digital camera.

                "We can't get her to wear a jacket or something?"

                "I'm not cold." I said instinctively. The breeze is not unpleasant. Mother looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes of hers. This morning when choosing my dress I made an effort to match them. Twirling in the mirror I thought I'd done it, but the fabric had been unable to replicate the soft nervousness an eye can hold. I got Father's brown eyes, and right now he is narrowing his, a surly expression on his face as the man approaches with the camera. He'd brought it over to prove a point.

                "The pose is perfect." He explained, all the while my father's anger rising. "It's just-"

                As he turned the camera to show him the image I accidentally caught a peek, and my world began to crumble like so many times before it. I pitched to flee, but Mother caught me and took me in her arms. I looked at her and she looked at me, those blue eyes of hers truly a beauty I'd lost the chance at forever, and suddenly she grew steely. She reached around for the arms I had hidden behind my back. I tried to fight, but her grip was so strong. She pulled them out in front and held them up for me to see.

                "Look at them." She said, stern yet kind. It took every ounce of will to shift from gentle blue to the horror that was to follow.

                Searing pains shoot out across my arms. I watch a helpless passenger as the red streaks reveal themselves to me, one by one in assorted order, crawling across my flesh, etched in by memory's painful quill. As they twin and twist I wish I'd had the foresight to select a kind of pattern, instead of giving in to life on an edge, especially when they're so readily available.

                Over time I'd trained myself not to see them. I'm so good, a mirror can't even break the spell. But somehow a photo, that subjective third eye, had punched a hole in my self deception, and the tears flowed freely.  Through the murky filter I stared for as long as I could, my mind's eye confusing a second or two for a lifetime. Too deep, I grasped for the shallows of her eyes once more.

                "I'm sorry." I whispered. Mother shook her head.

                "Stop hiding and embrace it. Your past makes who you are." She released my arms and reached down for her blouse. Before I could render what was happening  she'd removed it completely. It was like a dream, the petals woven into the fabric's design dropping to the ground like nature had called them back to wither.

                A group of boys cheered and wolfed a whistle. Father, who had his back to us span round before freezing in shock. My brother buried his head in his hands in embarrassment. Mother, though, cared for none of it. She pointed at the discoloured cross section on her exposed stomach. "This scar tells me about one of the proudest moments of my life." She declared. "Even if it did turn out to be your brother." She added, with a wink.

                "Hey!" I gawped at it, not quite sure how to react. There must have been something solemn in my expression, because out of the corner of my eye I saw my brother's face soften from outrage to understanding, and he began unbuttoning his own shirt. He threw it to the ground in triumph, the same shirt he spent over an hour ironing this morning, and pointed to a line of damaged flesh on his stomach.

                "Appendix." He grinned. "Doctor said I needed it removed or the pain would be unbearable. I held out for six weeks." He framed it in a grid made between his thumbs and his forefingers. "Hashtag Legend." I couldn't help but smile a little at Mother's frown.

                "The point is," She said, taking my arms again, "they're a part of you now. When I look at these scars," softly, she began tracing them with a finger  "I think of every battle you've fought against a darkness that many would not be strong enough to conquer. Every battle you've won. I see them," she said, and it rang true - every ragged path she followed matched the order I'd woven them, "and so should you."

                I know now, that I've been doing it wrong. Denial is the choice I'd made. A secret buried further and further over time, though a fresh layer of earth added to the grave has turned that hole in the ground of my subconscious into an unusual looking mound that draws suspicion. Secrets crave discovery. All they want is for one strong wind, one shift in the plates beneath the earth, one glimpse of a tiny screen on a digital camera.

                The photographer still sneered at me, the ribbons I wear more offensive to him than the clothes my family lack. I wanted him gone, and that meant taking this damn photo. I look down at my brother's ruined shirt, shrug Mother's hand free, and then my dress. Another round of cheers goes up from those nearby and I expect my mother to panic, but instead she laughs heartily. It is a good sound. Father, however, lost control of the lower portion of his face. I think it came with a dawning realisation of the direction things were heading. He had a nervous glance towards my brother, which on reflection, was probably not the wisest decision. My brother's expression twisted with devil, and he cupped a hand to his mouth.

                "Off!" There it was, one single word. The key to bedlam. The wolf pack started first, baying at random before falling in line with my brother's pulsing decree. Those nearby stopped to stare before joining the chant, spreading to the far reaches of the park like wildfire.

                As the circle closed, Father looked around in panic before settling his eyes on me. I smiled sweetly and shrugged my shoulders. He smiled back. "You know me and your mother met in A&E." He said, fiddling with the button on his collar. "You didn't know it was because of an incident involving a lot of alcohol and a broom handle." He ripped his shirt free, popping the buttons from their thread restraints like the Hulk, exposing a nasty score that cuts a line in the hair of his chest.

                Those around us erupted in cheer. He span round, seeking the photographer who looked very small amidst the conflagration. "Take the picture Dammit!" He commanded, barely audible over the crowd. As the photographer failed to shake himself free of whatever nightmare he thought he was having, my father marched over and ripped the camera from him, turning it over and thrusting it back into his hand with the lens pointing towards us on the bench, wrenching him from his stupor.

                Eventually his hand steadied long enough for him to take the picture, tripod lost to the encroaching throng, and he traipsed over to us uncertainly, flinching at every new voice bawled from the shifting mass that surrounds us. He flipped the camera round, and showed us the image on the screen. Of course, my red ichor twists were the first thing I noticed. But somehow, they seemed in place, flanked either side by those borne by my family. A collection of tales sat side by side against a backdrop of half a clamouring community, all crammed into one chaotic frame.

                "It's perfect." I said. No denial. I meant it. As Mother put a hand on my shoulder, I looked down to see the sun's dying light dance upon my painted toenails. We'd broken through together. I vow to accept its gracious end as my new beginning.

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* This story was first published 25/08/16 as part of Short Fiction Break's 2016 5th Anniversary Competition -  https://bit.ly/2H2zk0L
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Mount Wulf

1

Tomaas pushed forward through the snow, locked in a sense of morbid fascination. He and his brother, drawn to trespass enemy clan land by rumours of unusually large prey, had separated to avoid detection from the increased patrol. Their rendezvous point held little more than blood and struggle in his brother's absence, as well as huge bear-sized paw prints stamped into the snow.

                Higher he followed, progressively deeper into the heart of the mountain. A steady trail of blood made the work fairly easily going, even as the beast scaled ledges windborne directly into the stone. Sheathing his blade to free his hands for climbing it occurred to him that he'd never found his brother's own. He tried to relive the trail in his mind's eye, but, as a biting wind shrunk him into a huddled mass against the rock face, surviving the climb pushed its way to the forefront of his thoughts.

                Time passed without conscious consideration, and when his attention was reined in by the sound of running water up ahead he looked around and realised the night had descended on him like a cloak. He hadn't noticed how deathly cold it had become, his muscles contracting and pulling him into a ball on the floor.

                The water flow struck him as a mockery, that in the biting cold of the night it did not freeze of a sudden as he seemed fated. It churned up a momentum in him to investigate, and he progressively shuddered himself into full motion towards potential salvation, a sudden exchange of strangled howls ringing across the night pointedly reminding him how the mountain earned its name.

2

He hauled himself over a ledge, noticing a strange violet glow emanating from a crack in the rock face up ahead. The intensity increased while he crossed the unusually bare plaza, the sound of running water getting louder until, with a fleeting glance either side, he ducked into the mouth of the cavern.

                Melt water. It was to him a thing of wonder. Bathed in its pinkish light, the water, he could see, was clear. It ran down from an inlet of frozen water that was sunken into a crack in the rock like a fissure, pooling in the sunken rock floor.

                His brother lay broken at the water's edge.

                'Jared?'

                He stirred at the call of his name and Tomaas rushed over to him, heedless of the skeletal corpses of clansmen littered about the cave's entrance. He raised him under an arm, refusing to accept Jared's fleeting grip on mortality, his gaze drawn instead to the source of the pink light.

                A  network of stalagmite crystal sprouted from the base of the pool. The rock was black as night, the glow pulsating from alternating cracks in its surface and splits at the edges as the ore broke into many irregular facets, as if something inside was searching for a point of escape.

3

A shadow from the cave's entrance stole Tomaas' attention. He turned around and his eyes widened in horror as he realised just how terribly wrong he'd been. That's no bear. The wolf stood at least as tall as he with its back arced down, sniffing the ground, the rest of its monstrous body terribly in proportion.

                The drop of his jaw must have been audible. The beast's eyes flicked up, its face bathed in that horrible glow that pooled in and illuminated a dreadful glare. It broke into a vicious snarl.

                He sagged under his brother's weight and the wolf reacted, rearing its head high and unleashing a howl that seemed to shake the very mountain or at least his foothold in it.

                As he stood there, his body terror frozen, he could see a dark swathe of blood had run down the creature's chest, and there, caught by the pinkish light, the hilt of his brother's missing blade protruded at the top of the stain, just shy of the collarbone.

                His brother squirmed  on his arm, and the howl descended into a low growl.

                '...maas! Run!'

                He couldn't even if he'd wanted to. Jared weakly tried to push him away but the beast was on them in an instant, Jared taking the brunt of the charge which toppled all three of them into the pool.

                Tomaas broke the surface with a stunned serenity, quickly replaced by guileless fear, thrashing uncontrollably as the ice water filled and burned his every orifice as it fought to claim him indefinitely.

                A haze of murky red clouded his vision when he eventually forced his eyes open, and he drove himself forward towards the water's edge, desperately resisting the promise of sweet release in letting go.

                He dragged himself out of the pool, spluttering violently and vaguely aware of the sound of splashing water before turning his head at the last instant to see a terrifying silhouette.

                A brief wash of pain, followed by an unnerving period of weightlessness concluded with him crunching against the rock face where the wolf had flicked him using its muscular neck, and suddenly pain was all he knew.

                A crumpled, gasping heap, he tried desperately to gain his feet but found his unresponsive body terribly wanting. The wolf circled round to a point where Tomaas had fresh air behind him and uncoiled itself for the killing blow.

                His legs useless, Tomaas tried instead to twist his way clear using a turn of his shoulders, but his reaction was late and far too low to generate the full body turn he was intending.

                The wolf had leapt high, and Tomaas' cupped hand found an unexpected point of purchase. The shock forced him to clench his hand into a fist around his brother's pommel and with a sickening wrench of his shoulder Tomaas passed out as the night erupted in a thundering deathly wail around him.

4

He awoke in agony a few moments later, his head swimming as though back underwater, terrified above all else of suffocating under the huge hairy limb that covered his face. Tomaas fought with his one good arm to clear the thing from blocking his mouth, until eventually he broke free, spitting out wads of fur and blood between bouts of his own screaming.

                The beast, at least, was dead. A pile of offal slowly spilled out of the gash he'd torn it from neck to navel, pooling slickly around his head and shoulders.

                His brother's blade lay close by. He took it in hand and cast a mournful glance towards the pool. No bubbles rose to the surface, and he placed a tender kiss on the pommel of the blade before engaging in silent prayer.

                A fierce and piercing wind funnelled through the mouth of the cave to cut through the remaining  parts of his body he could feel like a knife, a sickening reminder that despite it all, lady chill hadn't given up her quarry so easily. The blood pouring from the wolf was warm, at least until exposed to her whispers, and his desperate mind formed a plan.

                His strength depleting, Tomaas hauled himself in front of the wolf's chest. Working quickly with haggard breath and wild eyes, by violet light he set to his gruesome task; ripping and tearing out great handfuls of the beast's insides, bathing in the warm blood that spattered him.

                His head swimming in delirium, he sidled alongside the beast, and with a big sigh of breath lifted one of his useless legs and forced it into the opening, using the lack of feeling to push it anywhere it'd fit in a horribly twisted and contorted bundle.

                The second leg proved harder. Something was blocking his path and he screamed out in desperate futility until something dislodged and he slipped in further, the displaced matter spurting out and filling his open mouth until he choked it out with some added inside matter of his own.

                He had to contort forwards to slip beneath the beast's great ribcage but finally set to rest with head laying roughly where the host's heart had been. He'd grabbed the blade to use as a prop to keep the flap partly open, but exhaustion claimed him before he could fully set it, and the world went black.

5

Something was touching his face. Gripped tightly in his heightened fever dreams he swatted it away. It came on stronger, and he opened his eyes to find he'd pulled his nightmares through with him.

                He recoiled in horror, backing up onto his haunches and kicking out at his grinning brother whom reached out for him hungrily. Hideously bloated from a generous amount of time spent underwater, Jared's corpse dragged itself across the floor in mock horror of his own plight, and suddenly Tomaas realised he was standing.

                He scanned the cave but the beast was gone, a dark red stain the only indication it had ever existed. A groan from the restless cadaver interrupted his thoughts, demanding his attention.

                Tomaas recovered Jared's blade, raising it over his head, but hesitated as he searched the creature's eyes. Dull, and with the white now stained a familiar shade of pink, he sunk the blade deep through the brain and left it there, ending the struggle. His brother, like the wolf, had gone.

                Birdsong whistled through the cavern's entrance, and he was amazed to pick up the fleeting scent of an animal on the wind that carried it. The once becalming splash of the waterfall now drummed a coarser rhythm, and he wandered over to answer its call, pondering on the pinkish tint that besmirched the eyes of his reflection, caught between the ripples.

                Whatever strange things were happening here, he knew had something to do with that unusual crystal, but for now hunger was becoming his main concern. Garbing himself from a mix of the other corpses, he stepped out of the cave into winter sun in search of food.

6

A voice.

                The sound interrupted his search and a grim determination stole over him as he pushed his way back into the undergrowth in pursuit of the sound, snow buffeting his face as he passed between thickets and patches of open ground. More and more voices became distinguishable as men called to each other to avoid losing each other as the snow fell in thicker clumps, but instead of thinking to avoid the wandering patrol, obvious by the intermittent sound of wood lightly tapping thin sheets of metal armour, Tomaas found himself speeding up, breaking into an anticipatory canter for his encounter with the home clan.

                Sprinting, Tomaas leaped free of a thicket of bush towards the man at the back of the pack, as he burst into beast, the ripping and stretching sensation that wracked his entire body causing his midair scream to transform as he did, landing on him as something else entirely.

                He loomed over the broken man with a huge clawed paw caving the man's chest as he adjusted to his new weight, fascinated by the gurgling man's face, as a panicked cry sounded from the man in front. More shrill cries of 'wolf' and 'maneater' sounded as half the company tried to form up as the other tried to flee.

                Curiously encouraged, he bit down deep into the throat of the man and was pleasantly surprised by the tangy taste as he tore the chunk free and swallowed it down. As half a mind bound free and set to painting the snow red with the rest of the company, the other thought wistfully on his brother's rumours.

                Prey hadn't become larger, it had changed.

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Head Full of Memories

Short Story
Length - 8917 words

Julie's on her way to a gig and her car gives in to the inevitable. She'll miss it for sure. But as luck would have it, she gets an offer from a friendly stranger. Is luck the right word? Guaranteed she'll get a show, but it might not be the one she intended...

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Head Full of Memories

1

Julie smiled to herself whilst the last traces of the torrid downpour of rain disappeared as the Delorean’s door closed in from above. Drop after drop fell from a tawny strand of hair pressed against her forehead onto her lap and she fought hard to resist the urge to shake her hair dry like a dog, instead opting to tuck it back behind her ear and patting it in place. Beside her the kind gentleman who’d offered her a lift after the AA had towed her broken down car reached under his seat and pulled out a white plastic bag and brought it up to his lap. He carefully peeled the plastic back and with his other hand held onto the folded white cotton inside, his dark fingers cast a striking contrast as he handed her the clean towel.

                She accepted it graciously but her eyes got caught on the strange mark that seemed to cut a quarter inch thick line across the back of the man’s right hand. When she looked back up she realised he’d clocked her, and for a moment she thought he might be angry.

                ‘Sorry.’ She blurted out nervously. His expression softened and he drew his hand back, extending it in front of him in the face of the windshield to examine the mark for himself.

                ‘It’s okay.’ He said back, ‘Sometimes I forget. Back where I’m from most people wouldn’t think it out of the ordinary.’

                ‘What happened?’ His big brown eyes lost their sharpness as his gaze seemed to travel through the flesh into somewhere distant. Rain lashed at the car roof in droves forced by harsh, howling wind. He blinked a couple of times and turned his head towards her, his face curling into a sympathetic smile.

                ‘I’d rather not talk about it if that’s alright. It feels like it happened a whole ‘nother life time ago.’ It made her feel guilty for asking, but she could see it was not the man’s intentions. ‘Go ahead.’ He said, ‘Dry yourself off. It’s a terrible night out there.’

                ‘Yes and I’d be walking around in it if it wasn’t for you.’ She smiled as she started lightly tapping her forehead dry. ‘Thank you again. Are you sure I can’t make a contribution to petrol? It seems the least I could do.’

                ‘Like I told you outside, I’m going that way anyway. It’s no trouble. I’m just glad I could help a young girl stave off pneumonia.’

                ‘Well thank you. I’m sure even though I’m twenty-six years old my mum would be happy to hear you say that, Mr…?’ He turned round to face her and offered his left hand. The gesture looked awkward, she figured he was right-handed but didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable about gripping his old wound.

                ‘Lloyd. Emitt Lloyd.’ She took his hand in hers and gave it a dainty shake.

                ‘Julie Brown.’ At that moment another drop of water wrestled free of her hair and formed a path down the centre of her face, falling from her chin and landing on her outstretched sleeve. A small fraction of the splash landed on Emitt’s hand but he didn’t react. Something inside Julie screamed guilt and she immediately withdrew her hand, whispering another apology under her breath and proceeding to give her long dark hair another thorough dry.

                ‘You know, I was pretty lucky you came along actually. You’re the first person I’ve seen on the road tonight in quite a while.’

                ‘That’d probably be down to the weather.’

                Happy that she was dry now she offered him the towel back, which he took from her and folded back up neatly, placing it underneath the white plastic bag. She caught a glimpse of black cloth inside as he rearranged them.

                ‘They’re obviously not as determined to reach their destination as we are. We’re the hardcore.’ She said, smiling. Emitt nodded his agreement. ‘So where are you headed?’

                ‘Oh. Nowhere in particular. Just some place I gotta be.’

                ‘Okay.’ She wasn’t going to push it.

                ‘So you’re going to that musical concert in Hammersmith, is that correct?’

                ‘Yes.’

                ‘Maybe we should get going then.’ She nodded. ‘Buckle up please Ms Brown.’ Smiling, she did as she was told and waited for him, staring outside and trying to make out the shapes amidst the down pouring of the rain.

Emitt put the keys in the ignition and turned. Julie turned back just in time to see elements of the dashboard spring to life as various gauges and indicators blinked in luminescence before the churning sound came to an abrupt end, restoring the vehicle to comatose. Emitt looked slightly embarrassed.

‘It’s alright.’ She taunted, ‘I wasn’t expecting miracles.’

‘What do you mean?’ She sighed.

‘It’s just been one of those days.’

‘Second time’s normally a charm for this girl. I was just hoping she might spare my blushes this one time.’

‘Relax, if I was that concerned I’d have run the rest of the way. Or at least waited for the next car, a Ferrari perhaps.’

‘So why didn’t you?’

‘It’s not often you see a Delorean these days. I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to go for a drive in one.’

‘Very well.’

He turned the key again and this time things stuck. Over the top of the faint chugging sound underneath the CD player sprang to life.

Mr Sandman, bring me a dream.

Send me the cutest boy that I’ve ever seen.

A big warm smile stretched across her face.

‘That is too cool.’ Emitt started to tap along with his fingers on the steering wheel.

‘Oh you know this one do you? It’s one of my favourites.’

‘I’m sure it is.’ She looked at him sceptically. Emitt caught her stare in the reflection of the rear view mirror and ceased at once.

‘Why the stern look young lady? Have I done something to upset you?’

‘Come on.’ He turned to her, perplexed. ‘Okay so you drive a Delorean and you just happen to be listening to this song, just before I come in? No way, it’s a set up.’ She raised her hand to him before he could speak. ‘I bet it comes as part of the Delorean owners’ handbook, like you’re issued a CD with just this track on it to put on just before you pick up strangers, to keep the magic alive. Hah.’ She lowered her voice to mock imitate him. ‘Oh you know this one do you? It’s one of my favourites.’ Her voice then reverted back to normal. ‘”Back to the Future” lives on…’ Even more confused now Emitt was finally allowed to speak.

‘Back to the what?’ Julie was startled.

‘You haven’t seen it?’

‘Ms Brown I don’t have a clue what you’re on about.’

‘Wow, that is just. Wow.’

She fell silent for a few moments, just listening to the song play in the background of her thoughts. Emitt waited for the track to finish before switching the CD player off, slightly conscious of the way her eyes followed his old digit as it extended towards the power button.

‘Right then.’ He said, snapping her out of it. ‘I think we’d better get going, if you want to be in time to see your music group.’

‘Oh uh yeah, thanks.’

Emitt performed his checks, squinting harshly as he started to pull out into the road, the vehicle stuttering slightly as if it wasn’t fuelled by gasoline but by pure force of will alone. Julie looked around slightly concerned, the rain seemed to be pouring down even harder. She started to have second thoughts.

‘Are you going to be alright driving in this weather? I mean-‘

‘We’re the hardcore, remember?’

‘Yeah but-‘

‘Just trust me okay? I said I’d get you there.’ Thinking it best not to disturb him whilst he joined the main road she gave up her resistance, resuming her gaze back out into the night.

2

A strong wind swept from Julie’s side, lashing a torrent of water up against the window but the Delorean didn’t teeter. She could hear bits of the exterior rattle as it brushed them and the exhaust now began to displace a steady beat. She felt safe though - Emitt, she felt, was made of stern stuff. She had an image of him as a hardened captain of a boat that had weathered many treacherous storms and his ship, his girl, had made it through them all. It amused her to picture a parrot ducking just out of sight every time she looked over, shy of her and remaining hidden behind his head.

Emitt had joined the centre of the road now, and the vehicle ploughed on straight, rocking side to side as he coasted the waves.

‘I’m not seeing a group actually, well not officially. Just another pop star and a bunch of people playing behind her that don’t mind having their names omitted from the bright lights.’

‘Oh okay, who are you going to see?’ His eyes never left the road.

‘Katy Perry.’

‘She any good?’

‘What, live you mean?’

‘No, I mean in general.’ Julie was staggered.

‘You’ve never heard of Katy Perry? What do you do, live under a rock? Incredible.’

‘You can’t expect me to have heard of everybody. There’s a whole world out there.’

‘Granted, but come on. Katy Perry? Besides, she’s one of yours isn’t she?’ His eyes finally abandoned the windscreen for a fleeting moment as they caught on the CD player. It looked to her as though he was scanning the cases of the CDs that were on display there.

‘One of my what?’

‘American.’

‘Oh.’ Emitt shifted in his seat. ‘You picked up on that did you?’ Inside, Julie felt smug.

‘Yeah. Don’t worry though, it’s not too obvious, if you were trying to hide it that is. I’m quite good at these things.’ Emitt glanced across at her.

‘It’s not that I’m trying to hide it, I just haven’t lived there for a long time.’

‘Yeah I kind of get that. Like I said, it’s not too obvious, you just draw on certain words. Your rrr’s hang a bit too.’

‘Oh. Well thank you, I’ll try and work on it.’

‘But you’re not hiding it?’

‘No.’

‘Then why should it matter?’

‘Well, perhaps it’d stop young ladies attacking me for it when all I’m trying to do is help.’

‘Sorry.’ She bowed her head slightly before reverting back to staring out the window, not able to see through the wet and wild impenetrable gloom. ‘So why did you leave America?’ Emitt let out an irritated sigh. ‘Whoah relax, I’m just making conversation.’

‘In that case can we talk about something else please?’

‘Sure.’ Suddenly a thought occurred to her. Maybe it has something to do with his hand? He probably gets it all the time. I know it would make me tetchy.

Somewhere above them she could just make out the changing colours of a traffic light, the poor man’s rainbow travelling upwards from an amber haze to a red one. The Delorean came to a stop and rain beat down on the roof from directly above.

‘So.’ Emitt said to break the silence, feeling responsible. ‘Do you often go to see musical concerts on your own?’

‘Yeah, most of the time.’

‘Why is that then? Do your friends not share the same taste in music?’

‘Sort of. It’s kind of a tradition actually, but what you just said ties into it as well.’ The light changed colour and slowly the Delorean crept clear, the low humming droning in the back of her mind as she held an internal debate over whether she should just tell him, or wait for him to ask. Emitt peered harder to spot the turning he was looking for as she pondered.

‘What tradition would that be then?’ He said absently.

‘Oh, it’s this thing that goes way back to when my dad was around.’ Loftily, as though she hadn’t expected it. ‘For my sixteenth birthday he took me to see Kylie, just the two of us, it was my first experience of live music.’

‘Minogue is that?’

‘Oh good so you are from this time zone then.’

‘Honestly, I don’t think you’d have to be to have heard of her.’

‘True. Anyways it was the first date of her ‘On a Night Like This’ tour, the seventeenth of March, two-thousand and-‘

‘One.’ She looked surprised. ‘You mentioned that you are twenty-six years old now earlier.’

‘That was quick.’

‘Well,’ he said as the car lurched to the right – he’d found his turning. ‘I’ve got a thing for dates, a bit like you do with accents. You said that he took you for your sixteenth birthday, is that the actual date? Or was it just that Kylie happened to be performing?’ She smiled.

‘It’s the actual date.’

‘Happy Birthday.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Sorry about the weather.’

‘Haha it’s alright, I’m not blaming you.’

3

The Delorean navigated a few side roads flanked either side by tall buildings that looking nothing more than marauding shadows. There was a bright flash of white light from above that lit the ghostly doorways and reflected like a sign of life in the windows, a roll of thunder following about two or three Mississippi’s later, depending on who was counting.

‘The storm’s picking up.’ Emitt said almost silently under his breath. His eyebrows dipped inwards with concentration but not before a fleeting glance at the clock on the dash.

‘It’s not that I wanted to see Kylie specifically.’ Julie said, reviving the conversation to give herself something to focus on, never a big fan of lightning. ‘I just wanted to see somebody, so long as it was at the Apollo. Or the ‘Hammy-O’ as my dad called it. You know, that was her first time performing at the Apollo and my first time visiting. The atmosphere was electric, I was hooked. I made my dad promise to take me again, and ever since then he’d take me at least once every couple of months.’

‘Why this particular venue?’ Julie smiled at him warmly, it was a question she’d been wanting to answer.

‘My dad used to be in a band.’ She said, reflecting. ‘They never made it to the ‘big-time’ as he liked to say, but they enjoyed some moderate success.

‘The Apollo is where they played their biggest gig, back in eighty-one. They won a battle of the bands competition to open for some Metal band that went on to become a big deal. My dad reckoned it was his best ever performance, he’s talked me through it a thousand times and more, I feel like I was there. In fact…’ She stooped down to her feet and retrieved her handbag. Careful not to let any of its contents get wet she withdrew an envelope that had been wrapped neatly in a sheet of laminate plastic. Emitt glanced over at her curiously as she began to unravel it.

From within the envelope she pulled out her gig ticket, and behind that was another that looked much older, and when she took it out from its own plastic casing it revealed to be screening another. She put the first back into her bag and held the other two aloft, checking the road ahead was clear.

‘He gave me these, unused tickets to that show.’

‘May I?’ She looked up and handed one of them over to him and he looked it over between glances over the steering wheel. ‘You’ve kept them in good condition.’ He said, handing it back.

‘Yep.’ Suddenly she broke out into another smile. ‘He always joked I’d need them to get in. I’ve brought them with me to every gig I’ve ever been to since he left.’ This time her smile was sad. ‘To remind me that I don’t hate him.’ The statement seemed a cue as a fresh torrent of rain lashed against the window.

Emitt never asked, but another look over at her seemed to prompt gently for more information.

‘He umm, left me four years ago.’ She had to pause a second to swallow a painful gulp of air. ‘We were at the Apollo, March 12^th, watching Lilly Allen on her first proper UK tour. Lilly was dressed all in black, and she had these men with brass instruments behind her dressed in all white.’ She said, remembering. ‘When she started performing ‘Alfie’ the lights overhead started alternating between blue, green and yellow, and she started the crowd off waving an arm over their head and swaying in time to the music. My dad had never been too fond of joining in when he wasn’t familiar with the artist so he told me he was going to pop to the toilet.’ This time she felt water in her eyes. ‘That was the last time anybody ever saw him.

‘I started to get worried when he didn’t make his way back to me after the next couple of songs but I waited until the end of the gig because I didn’t want to cause a fuss only to find he’d started talking to somebody at the bar. They did an entire search of the building but there was no trace and no sign of struggle so they got me to help them search through some CCTV footage.’ Emitt noticed her voice was getting more determined, and her hand started to squeeze up into a little fist.

‘We found him. After going into the toilet he came out a few minutes later, closed the door behind him and just walked straight out of the building.

Emitt was about to speak, but Julie wasn’t finished.

‘I thought maybe something happened in there, like a man had threatened him or something – but we ran through the tape a hundred times. He was the only person in there.’ Now the tears were starting to fall. ‘One of the stewards suggested he might have gotten a text or a phone call but he’d given me his phone to keep in my handbag so that he wouldn’t lose it. He just left me!’

Emitt watched her thoughtfully for a moment as she sobbed quietly and searched her bag for a tissue. The car lit up as another flash of lightning came crashing down and the sky roared overhead.

‘I’m sure your father had his reasons.’ He reached over to give her leg a comforting squeeze and she recoiled violently.

‘What reasons!?! Have you ever abandoned a child before?’

‘With the greatest respect, twenty-two is hardly a child.’ Julie was furious.

‘I’m still his child! And I’ve never heard from him since! At what age does that kind of behaviour become okay in your book?’ She waited for an answer but he seemed to be more interested in his watch.

‘There are some sweets in a bag behind your seat.’ He said meekly. Julie stared at him incredulously.

‘You’re trying to pacify me with sweets?’

‘They’re for me, please.’ She could see him getting flustered and a cool jet of caution inked its way into her system.

‘Okay.’ She said, and she started fumbling around aimlessly behind her, pawing along the shelf on the back of her seat.

A few seconds passed and she still couldn’t find them.

‘They’re there somewhere.’

He wants me to turn around, she thought and an alarm bell started to ring faintly in the back of her mind. There was another part of her though that told her she was overreacting, so slowly she craned her head around to have another look.

The search came up empty and when she turned back around she was just in time to see one of the panels on the dashboard snap shut. She thought she saw a light snuffed out by the closed flap but that could have just been the lightning, and she braced herself for another slap of thunder.

It came sooner than she had expected and she jumped in spite of herself. Don’t show him you’re scared, she thought angrily, don’t make yourself a little lamb.

‘Sorry.’ Said the butcher. He held an open packet of boiled sweets in one hand. ‘I must have moved them. Are you sure you don’t want one?’

‘No.’ He popped one into his mouth, and she was left wondering whether he took something else out of the dash too, her heartbeat rising.

4

They must have been close to the eye of the storm as another bolt streaked across the windscreen and she gripped the side of her seat tightly. The man was feverishly checking out of all the windows and mirrors and she nervously traced his eye line to see what he was looking for. When she looked out of her own window her stomach tightened.

‘Why are we slowing down?’ She demanded.

‘I’m being careful.’

‘This is too slow.’ This time he didn’t say a word, too busy looking around and at his watch and the speedometer. Inside panic was taking over.

‘I’m getting out.’ She blurted and shot out a hand towards the door.

Up until now all the thunder had come from the outside of the vehicle.

‘No!’ The man boomed as he sprawled across her, catching the door an inch from the frame and hauling it back shut as she screamed and beat against him with her fists.

He held her down against the seat with one arm to restrain her flailing as he fought to keep control of the vehicle. One last look at the speedometer and his watch and he let go of the steering wheel all together, grabbing her tightly on the tops of her arms.

‘Please. ‘He implored her. ‘Be brave.’

5

Julie heard the sky above her crack open and a bolt of pure white light engulfed the Delorean on all sides. She felt the world fall out from under her and screamed so loud she thought she might rupture a lung. Blood rushed to her head and her consciousness slipped away but an instant later she awoke to find the man still gripping her tightly. She mumbled something incoherently and he let go, though whatever he was saying to her wasn’t passing through her gobbledy-gook filter and a jumble of noise exploded in her ears like she’d head butted through a wall of sound.

Memories flooded back like the crack in a dam to remind her of her situation, bringing the fear back with it, and she threw herself against the door, her body spilling out into the night.

Fortunately they had pretty much ground to a stop so the fall wasn’t fatal but the rain was still pouring down in droves and in the time she found her feet she was soaked to the bone.

She heard the other door slam as the man got out to find her and she ran towards the nearest path. Her legs felt heavy as she moved and she almost stumbled up the curb but she kept her footing.

She kept to the path – fortunately the man had gone the same way she had done on occasion so she knew roughly where she was and didn’t want to chance her luck down one of the corridors between buildings, plus if the man had driven her to this area deliberately he probably knew the alleys and back roads much better than she did.

So she kept running. The longer she went the looser her legs were becoming and she could feel her pace increasing. The weather had driven everybody indoors so she kept going, looking for the café she used to work at, but as she made her way she felt an unfamiliarity about the buildings she passed.

6

She didn’t know how long it had been since she’d heard the man’s footsteps fade away but she used the rest bite to come to a sudden stop, hunching her body over and resting her hands on her knees to draw in huge breaths of air, watching the path behind her as she recovered. The shops around here would be closed, she knew, but what she hadn’t anticipated was the amount of buyouts and renovations there had been since her last visit. Driving past she must not have given them a second glance.

She followed the road as it turned the corner and peered into the distance, knowing her café was on the corner of the other end, but the rain was too heavy to see through so she bowed her head and carried on walking, thinking about the manager, Don, and how he’d react when she told him what had happened. A free cup of coffee was a certainty, but would she have to restrain him from charging out to look for him? He’d always been fierce to protect her, if a touch overdramatic.

When the wind forced the rain away from her face she stole another glance up.

No, she thought. No no no!

She broke into a slow run again and the image of Don holding out a towel disappeared from her mind.

It was the wrong colour for a start, the main theme colour from the café from her memory had been a vibrant red, where this was a dusky brown and had an old, barely readable burnished gold font that proclaimed the café as ‘McCays’. The name sounded familiar to her but it was hardly a consolation and she stood outside as the rain continued to pour, thinking of her next move.

Is it possible I’m on the wrong street? Most of them looked the same, the man could’ve taken her down one that was similar. Then she looked a couple of shops down to see the newsagents, the small ember of hope extinguished by a painfully familiar sight. She thought that chain would still be around when robots were herding humans off the street. Wait a minute.

She moved forwards to get a better look at one of the papers trapped behind the metal grating and pressed against the deep blue board behind it.

The headlines were declaring Taleb as acting president following Sadat’s assassination at an army parade in Egypt the day before, but Julie didn’t think that sounded right. She had a vague recollection that it was Tantawi who took charge following Mubarek’s resignation during the Egyptian revolution earlier this year – and she thought she’d have heard before had his tenure ended so abruptly.

Confused and a little agitated she stepped back into a man who was walking past and she jumped out of her skin. He dropped all that he was holding onto the floor and muttered a curse under his breath until he looked up and saw her, shivering and bedraggled. His hard features immediately softened.

‘Is everything alright Miss? It’s no night to be walking around idly.’ He looked smart in his deep blue pin striped suit and bent down gracefully to pick up his umbrella, she thought him about forty.

‘I umm.’ She supposed he must have come out of one of those alleyways a little further down whilst she was experiencing tunnel vision. He gave his black umbrella a shake and raised it above his head, stepping toward her and leaning so as to offer her some cover as well. He smiled at her, then remembered what else he’d dropped.

‘Could you hold this a moment please?’ He said, offering her the umbrella. ‘The name’s Baxter by the way, Rory Baxter.’

‘Julie Brown.’ She returned, before taking it from him. Rory stooped back down.

‘Ruined now.’ He said over his shoulder. ‘But I won’t have them call me a litterbug.’

‘I’m really sorry.’ She said as he shook what damp he could from the newspaper. He favoured her with another smile.

‘Not to worry. This late in the day it’ll be old news now anyhow.’ Julie’s eyes widened.

‘Can I see that a moment please?’

‘Of course.’ They performed a deft switch of newspaper and umbrella and Julie unfolded the bundle to check the front page. Once again she was confronted by Taleb, but this time she looked at it a little more closely.

‘This is today’s paper?’ She asked meekly.

‘Sure is.’ The date read Thursday March 3^rd, nineteen-eighty-one.

7

Julie awoke to find Rory clutching hold of her with an arm around her waist as he struggled to stay upright.

‘Miss! Can you hear me?’ He was asking desperately. The strength returned to her legs and they won their fight for balance.

‘What happened?’ She asked, groggily taking a step backwards.

‘I… I think you fainted! Would you like me to call you an ambulance?’

‘No, that’s okay, thanks. I’m just having a really strange day.’ She tried a smile and it took a lot of effort, but the man seemed satiated.

‘Okay, but at least step out of the rain.’ This time her smile came more easily and she linked arms with him as he positioned the umbrella to cover the pair of them. They set about walking at a gentle pace.

‘So this is…’ She was having trouble teasing it off the tip of her tongue. ‘…1981?’

‘Yes.’ She looked up to see a stern expression on his face. ‘Are you sure I can’t call you an ambulance? You don’t seem wholly aware of where you are.’

‘No. It’s just a … lapse in memory. Maybe you could remind me of some of the things that have happened this year? It might help.’

‘Okay.’ He said uncertainly, but then being given the focus of a task seemed to set his mind at ease. ‘Let’s see…’ He said, rummaging through his thoughts. ‘Of course! The Royal Wedding! How could anyone forget such a sight?’

‘Of course.’ Julie echoed.

‘The princess looked so beautiful didn’t she? With those beautiful blue eyes of hers.’ Julie found herself remembering an old stock photo of the princess but then it was immediately replaced by an image of a wrecked car and morbid newspaper headlines, little did Rory know what was to be her fate.

He continued to recall the day of the event and Julie nodded in the right places, her own mind a jumble of thoughts but none he need not be concerned with. She was content to let him tell tale.

‘I wasn’t having any of it. So I tapped him on the shoulder…’

They were alongside the café again now and Julie re-read the sign. Suddenly she realised why it had seemed so familiar to her.

‘Is that a Delorean?’ He was pointing through the glass at a vehicle parked around the corner. For a moment Julie grew tense and sucked in a gasp of air until she ran though events in her mind and everything seemed to fall into place. Emitt she thought, can this really be happening? She couldn’t help but smile and a wave of relief swept through her.

‘Let’s go see shall we?’

Rory was clearly excited. Their pace increased dramatically as if he feared the vehicle would pull away, but Julie of course knew better.

‘Do you know much about cars Miss –‘

‘Julie.’

‘Miss Julie?’ It came out muddled where she had interjected and he seemed a little embarrassed.

‘Ermm.’ Instinct told her to play dumb, lest she wanted to risk talking about something that hadn’t happened yet. ‘Not really.’

‘Well then you’re in for a treat.’ He said, tugging her along eagerly.

He led her around the corner and she smiled as she observed the interior car light as they approached.

‘The Delorean is a new car, with an unconventional design.’ He was saying. ‘The engine is in the front instead of the back, and the doors –wait till you see the doors! They –‘

As Rory stood transfixed Julie gently broke free of his arm and ducked out from under his umbrella to greet the onrushing Emitt who must have seen them approaching in his rear view mirror.

‘Julie!’ He said, panting from the effort of his dash. ‘I’m so sorry! Please, let me explain – it’s –‘

‘I thought we were meeting on the other side of the street.’ She interjected, gesturing with her eyes that they were not alone. When Emitt saw Rory his eyes widened so far Julie thought they might be about to fall out of his head. Whatever it was about the man it seemed to put Emitt in a really good mood, he had to take a breath to compose himself. ‘But then I remembered you talking about the café. I bumped into Rory on the way.’

At the mention of his name Rory came forward to greet Emitt and shake his hand, fortunately, Julie thought, Rory was left-handed. For some reason Emitt just could not stop smiling, she didn’t think it was his hat.

‘How do ya do?’

‘I’m very well, thank you.’

‘May I… May I have a look?’ Emitt followed Rory’s gaze to the car.

‘Certainly.’ He replied before clapping a friendly hand on Rory’s back.

8

The Delorean’s door was still up and open as a result of Emitt’s haste to get to Julie before she could run away again. It was here that Rory started his inspection. He reached up to close it, but paused to look at Emitt. Emitt gave him the nod and Rory pulled it shut, his face alight with boyish wonder. With Emitt still running whatever high he was on the pair of them were grinning like idiots. Julie couldn’t decide if it was annoying or enchanting.

 ‘Can I see the engine now?’ He asked excitedly. Emitt was more than happy to oblige, stepping back to open up the boot. ‘Hoho that’s the ticket.’ He said when he saw it. ‘What a marvellous machine. I’d love to have one of these myself one day. Thanks for showing me.’

‘Not a problem.’ Emitt replied, and then he turned to face Julie. ‘Speaking of tickets, I think we’d best be on our way to the Apollo.’

Rory guffawed and shook his head in disbelief, surprising the pair of them.

‘You’ve got a Delorean and tickets to see Budgie performing? Some people have all the luck.’

‘Oh, you know Budgie?’ Julie asked. Rory beamed.

‘Of course I do! The tickets to tonight’s show sold out so quick I never got a chance to grab one myself, otherwise I’d be banging my head right beside ya.’ Julie giggled.

‘I didn’t have you pegged for a metal head.’

‘I could say the same to you, Miss. Are you familiar with the support act this evening? I would quite like to have seen the Jackie Lynton band performing, I didn’t get the chance to go to the Reading Festival this year but I heard they made quite the impression. Typical of my luck really, I’m usually the one missing out.’

‘I’m looking forward to the other support act actually, the local band?’ A flicker of recollection passed across his face.

‘Hmm… oh yes! The battle of the band competition winners. What an opportunity! Once in a lifetime for sure. Give them a hearty cheer on my behalf won’t you?’

‘Of course.’ Rory took a step back.

‘Well don’t let me keep you then. Pleasant meeting you both.’

‘And you.’ Emitt replied. Rory started to turn away.

‘Wait.’ Julie said. Rory turned back around and looked at her inquisitively. ‘Don’t miss your opportunity, get a Delorean before they…’ She had a guilty glance over at Emitt. ‘Just get one.’ Rory grinned.

‘You know, I just might.’ Then he laughed to himself. ‘Think I’ll get one just like yours.’ He tipped his hat to them from underneath his umbrella and was on his way. Emitt started to raise the passenger door.

‘Not exactly like yours though.’ She ducked her head and went to go inside but then when Emitt didn’t respond she pulled back out into the rain.

‘Well…’

‘I knew there was something going on! Who is he then?’

‘Sorry to interrupt, but may we please continue this inside? You might be so wet as to not feel the difference but I’m finding standing out here in this rain quite unpleasant.’

‘I umm… sure.’

9

When they were both inside Emitt quickly patted around his face and brow before handing over the towel.

‘Thanks.’ She said. ‘So owning a Delorean really does provide access to time travel then. He doesn’t seem to be aware of it yet though.’

‘No. We caught him at an early point in his time stream it appears. He doesn’t know anything about me or time travel yet.’

‘That must be weird, seeing him. Well, like a different version of him.’

‘Ahuh. I must say, you’ve taken this all pretty well. Most people take some convincing of the situation. I’m just relieved I didn’t have to spend half the night trying to track you down.’

‘Yeah, I’m not totally convinced I’m awake yet. But I’m too scared to pinch myself.’ Emitt chuckled. ‘Good call on the café though, I won’t ask how you knew.’

‘Best not, if you want to stick to dream theory.’ Julie brushed it off, trying to process it all.

‘So.’ She said. ‘Does Rory, still wear that hat? Wherever you know him from?’

‘He certainly does. I always wondered why he chose to use a Delorean like me though, I guess it must have been your doing.’

A feeling of pride swept through her at that and she started to wonder at the grand scale of things. What if’s battled away for focus at the back of her mind and questions of things done and undone poked through, vying for her attention.

‘So when do I get mine?’ Was the major question that burst through.

‘I’m afraid it’s not as simple as that.’ It was amazing how one response could kill her enthusiasm so effectively.

‘What do you mean?’ Emitt considered how to start, stretching his arms out in front and resting them on the steering wheel.

‘Would you mind buckling up? We really do need to get going.’ He waited until he heard the click until he made his first attempt on the ignition. The first attempt was a failure.

‘Ninety-nine percent of people just get the one night.’ On the second attempt the lights on the dashboard stuck and the engine started its consistent chug-a-chug. ‘To witness something they were or will be unable to. Then they’re taken back with a head full of memories and trusted to keep it to themselves, and in any case if they were to tell somebody –‘

‘Who’d believe them anyway, right?’ Emitt nodded as he pulled back out into the road. Julie bit down on her bottom lip to stem her frustration. ‘So I just get one night and then get on with the rest of my life?’ She harrumphed and then ran the towel through her hair in a short sharp burst. ‘You know in ‘Back to the Future’ Marty McFly pretty much comes and goes as he pleases –‘

‘So long as he reaches eighty-eight miles per hour and has access to 1.21 jigawatts of electricity to power the flux capacitator, I know.’ Julie smiled ruefully.

‘Oh good so you have seen it.’

‘But this isn’t a movie, the rules are different.’ The indicator blinked on and off as he constructed his thoughts. ‘I guess you could say it’s more … Cosmic. What will be will be.’

‘There are some similarities though, I mean, we were struck by lightning.’

‘Yes, and I’m really sorry for that. I should have prepared you, but I got distracted by something you said and lost track of time.’ He turned to face her briefly. ‘I’m really sorry.’

‘It’s okay.’ She gave him a reassuring smile and he picked up the thread of the conversation again.

‘First rule of time travel; always pack a towel.’ He chuckled. ‘Sometimes we get called ‘Rain Chasers’, we use the charge from the storms to pass between time zones, and unfortunately for our new passengers it’s got to be a direct hit.’

‘The hardcore.’ That seemed to please him. ‘How do you know where to go though? Presumably you have to know that the storm is happening in both time zones, that both doors are open.’

‘I receive information and instruction from my consulant who in turn receives it from his, though mine and my consulant’s consulant’s time streams will never cross. Some of us have a theory that it all goes round in a big circle, but nobody knows for sure.’

‘Wow.’ Said Julie, genuinely intrigued. ‘And the Delorean?’ She gripped the seat with her legs as Emitt took them round another corner. He allowed himself a smile.

‘I’m afraid you were onto me there. Most people find it easier to accept the situation if there’s some familiarity to it.’ Julie found herself nodding in agreement; it worked for her. ‘Plus, I really like that movie, so ….’ He made sure she was watching before leaning across and opening the panel on the dashboard.

The glow she caught from earlier turned out to be from a digital interface beneath the panel. There were three separate lines of numbers representing time and dates, red on top, green in the middle, and yellow on the bottom. Just like in the film. Julie’s face cracked into a wide grin.

‘Destination time, present time and last time departed. That’s awesome.’

‘I had it made specially.’

‘It’s not just for show though is it? You were fiddling with it earlier.’ Then she leaned back against the seat and laughed. ‘I thought you were reaching for a gun.’ Emitt sat and considered that for a moment.

‘Yes, I’m sorry to have caused you any distress.’ Julie could feel the atmosphere hanging low and steered the conversation back into a positive direction.

‘Any other similarities?’

‘Hmm, let me think.’ He took them round another bend and they rejoined a bigger road. ‘Well the speed requirement was not too far off, but instead of eighty-eight miles an hour it’s actually a much safer eight.’

‘Not as exciting then.’

‘Perhaps not, but consider this. If you were to flip the figure of eight on its side you get the sign for infinity, which could represent the amount of possibilities of time which can be travelled to.’

‘I suppose.’ She said, non-committal. ‘It’s still pretty close. The amount of similarities has got to be more than coincidence, surely.’

‘Well, there are those of us who wonder whether he might have received a visit and made the movie as a sort of thank you, purposely jumbling the facts. But again, it’s just another of our theories.’

‘Our theories.’ Julie echoed sadly before clamping some of her hair between the towel to press it dry.

‘Hey.’ Emitt said softly. ‘Don’t be so quick to write off the one percent. I’ve never had a passenger cross paths with another guide before, it could be a good sign. Especially as it turned out to be so influential to his own induction.’ She seemed to drift away in thought – and positive ones too, if the faint smile on her face was anything to go by.

10

Emitt drove on, until eventually Julie broke the silence.

‘What did I say?’ Emitt looked across at her. ‘Earlier, I mean. What did I say that distracted you?’

‘Well.’ He said and drew a breath. ‘You were talking about your father’s disappearance. Hate is a powerful word, I wanted to hear your reasons.’ Julie nodded uncertainly. ‘You see, for all the wonders of time travel, it isn’t always as light hearted as Spielburg’s version.’ There was a pause as he considered how to continue, and Julie noticed him take a glance at the scar on his hand. A sad smile crept over his face. ‘How familiar are you with American history?’ He asked.

‘I know a little, but I wouldn’t claim to be an expert.’ Emitt nodded.

'Are you aware of Lincoln, and his declaration of free men?' Julie paled. The scar on his hand made sense now. It wouldn't be the only one he carried. She nodded sadly.

'I managed to get my sister and her daughters holed up with some nice folk across the border. They were to wait there until such a time me and my nephew could meet them. We got thrown into the conflict shortly after. He got hit. I told him I'd go for help, but he was woozy, so I'm not sure he understood much of what was happening.'

He had a sorrowful look down at the steering wheel and Julie could sense the impending tragedy.

‘I told my sister I'd protect him, but then right there on the battlefield, I had my intervention.’

‘Intervention? You mean…’

‘Yep. I was whisked away through time before I was even given a chance to ask anybody for help.’ His voice was heavy with emotion. ‘My nephew must have thought I abandoned him. I just disappeared, with no explanation and no trace. So when you talk about ‘hate’ it makes me wonder…’

‘My dad walked out.’ Julie said defensively. ‘I saw it.’

‘Do you think my nephew would have believed me had I explained why I left? Or my sister should I ever see her again?’

‘No, but –‘

‘All I’m saying, Ms Brown, is that things aren’t always as straight forward as they seem. You know my background now, don’t hate on assumption. I know hate, it’s not a pleasant thing.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She said, after a time. Emitt just raised a hand and waved it away.

Julie looked across a couple of times as though to speak but she couldn’t find any words. Emitt took note, and made a point of catching her on the third.

‘I’d like to hear that story.’ He said softly. ‘Of your father’s performance, if you’d like to tell it.’ Julie smiled warmly.

‘Wouldn’t you rather listen to the radio or something?’

‘I umm… don’t have one.’ That set Julie about to laughter.

‘So you drive a time machine but it doesn’t get radio?’ Their eyes met in the rear view mirror and the corner of Emitt’s mouth upturned in embarrassment.

‘Just the CD player.’

‘Alright.’ She said, fumbling for the tickets. ‘Let’s see, it’s October the eighth, nineteen eighty-one, which by complete coincidence also happens to be today’s date, according to the clock in green…’

11

Emitt pulled up a couple of streets away from the Apollo. The rain by now had diminished to fine spittle and he reached back into the bag the towel had come from and handed Julie a change of clothes.

                ‘Everything’s black.’ She said.

                ‘Well I thought you might want to fit in with your fellow metal heads.’ She could see the logic in it, she had after all come dressed to see Katy Perry.

She held out the t-shirt and let it roll out in front of her.

                ‘The Pinheads!’ She read aloud, elated and amazed all in one. ‘Is it safe to wear this? I mean, ‘Back to the Future’ doesn’t exist yet.’

                ‘Just another young band that failed to make the big time if anybody asks.’ She nodded and put the clothes bag in the bag. ‘Are you all set?’ Emitt asked. Julie took a deep breath.

                ‘I’ve heard that story a thousand times, and retold it several, but now I finally get to put a picture to the narrative. Thank you.’ Emitt just smiled. Julie undid her seatbelt. ‘So are we going inside to find a place to change?’

                ‘I’m sorry Ms Brown, there’s no we.’

                ‘Oh.’ Julie said, stunned. ‘But, I don’t understand. Are you not allowed to come in with me? I’ve got two tickets.’

                ‘Well.’ Emitt said, gesturing for her to look out the windscreen. ‘I believe the second is supposed to be for your narrator.’

                Julie’s heart leapt into her throat as she gazed up out onto the street. She watched in a stunned silence as the shape of a man dressed warmly in a dark coat walked towards them from the far end of the path. He was the only man in the street. With every step closer an uncertainty and trepidation swept over her until finally he came close enough to see, walking out underneath a street light two buildings away.

                A mop of dark curly hair, windswept with a light coating of rain, bounced up and down as he stepped and he had the lower half of his face buried into a scarf, a dark pair of close set eyes squinting against the wind and searching for the car. Julie felt her bottom lip quivering, he looked almost exactly the same as the day he left her. She was playing the CCTV tape over and over in her mind.

                ‘Emitt, I, I can’t. I don’t want to –‘ As she turned to give a face to her plea a tear worked its way free and rolled down her cheek. She was met with a stern expression. ‘Emitt, he left me!’ But Emitt held firm.

                ‘It’s not always as it seems.’

                ‘I saw him walk away!’ Emitt raised his hand.

                ‘You need to talk to him.’ The tears were flowing freely now and Julie fell back into her seat.

                ‘I can’t.’ She kept mumbling. ‘I won’t.’ All the time he was getting closer.

                ‘Julie.’ Emitt said, and Julie wasn’t so far gone as to miss the reservation in his voice. ‘He’s my…’ Then there was a moment’s hesitation. ‘Consulant.’ The word proved to be a hurdle – once cleared, it got easier for him to speak. ‘He’s a guide, like me and Rory.’ Julie was struck for six.

                ‘A… Rain Chaser?’ She asked feebly, all the while her eyes never leaving the man’s approach.

                ‘Yep. That’s three guides in one night, very rare indeed. Looking good for potential membership…

But that was lost on her now. The man was only a few feet away. She was angry. He left me! Inside she was holding a debate. But he’s a Rain Chaser! Something called out, deeper. Like Emitt! She thought back to Emitt and his family, the way he was cruelly plucked out of his time without a chance to explain, the shame in his voice as he told it.

                Meanwhile Emitt had raised his hand in greeting and the man had waved back, his head lifting out of his scarf for a moment. He was peering past the reflection of the street lights on the windscreen. Julie saw the moment he got past the light, the recognition that she was there. His face was a confusion of emotions; happiness, sadness and … shame, shame was there too.

                ‘It’s not always as it seems.’ She heard Emitt say, but she didn’t know if it was in person or just in her head. He disappeared from view as he moved round to her side of the car but she couldn’t turn around, just braced herself as the door began to slide open.

                ‘Julie?’

                She turned round to face him, stared at him, into him. Her face was devoid of all expression.

                ‘I… sweetheart.’ He moved forwards and raised his arms slightly as if to hug her, but then he pulled back. ‘I don’t know what…’ He just looked at her helplessly.

                And in that moment she knew.

                If he’d left her that day she thought  he’d have gone one way or the other; either start straight out with the apologies as a result of crushing guilt, feigned or not, or blame the circumstances, absolve himself of responsibility. No, he felt the guilt, she could see it, but it was an assumed guilt, one born of not knowing and repeating the pain he might have afflicted until it was believed to be so. He was just as lost as she was.

                ‘Dad.’ She said, and lunged towards him, wrapping her arms around him a hard as she could to make sure he was real.

12

Minutes must have passed as they embraced, soundless, swinging with their eyes closed to shut out the rest of the world, though Emitt didn’t mind his third wheel designation one bit, rejoiced in it in fact. He sent them on their way, tears and laughter streaming about all over the place as they walked away, arm in arm.

                With a warm heart he turned the key in the ignition and bingo! The love had spread and his girl sparked into life at the first time of asking. He buckled up, reached into the dash and withdrew to pop a sweet in his mouth before folding his towel up and placing it back underneath his seat.

When he raised his head, Julie was standing in front of the vehicle, her smile cockled into a grin and she pointed that she was coming round to the driver’s door. She disappeared as she walked round and Emitt opened the door.

‘Is everything alright Ms Brown?’

‘My dad says I need to give you this.’ She said, passing him her ticket to see Katy Perry some years in the future. ‘Keep it safe, you just might need it someday.’ And she turned away. He leant across to put the ticket in his dash. ‘Oh and Emitt?’ She said, pivoting in place.

‘Yes Ms Brown?’

‘Julie, please.’ Emitt nodded. ‘I’ll be seeing you around.’

Emitt broke into a grin that matched her own.

‘Welcome to the one percent.’

__________

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