They all filed out of the cinema, chatting excitedly. Isaac, Walter and Peter commiserated with each other, while Millie, Florrie and Immi annoyingly sang their part as they headed out onto the street, earning a reproval from Percy who warned them that Callie and Brodie could be just around the corner for all they knew.
‘Well, that was larks, wasn’t it?’ Polly said cheerfully. ‘Anyone fancy coming back to my place for a bit of a natter? Seems a shame to go home on our own when it’s not even teatime yet.’
Harmony shook her head. ‘Maybe another time, Polly. But thanks.’ She headed off to Appleseed Cottage which she shared with Quintus Severus and a living elderly lady called Mrs Smithson. Polly watched her thoughtfully.
‘I suppose I’ll have to be patient with her. She’s coming on in leaps and bounds, so fair’s fair. I won’t push it. What about the rest of you?’
‘If you don’t mind, Poll, I’m going back to the inn with Isaac and Peter,’ Ray said. ‘I’ll be home later.’
‘Can I come, Polly?’ Millie asked, as Florrie and Immi headed back to Harling Hall.
‘Of course you can, love.’
‘Danny?’ Brooke asked hopefully.
‘No thanks. I’m going home,’ Danny said. ‘I’m all peopled out for today.’
Brooke nodded, seeming to understand. ‘Okay. Do you mind if I go back with Polly then?’
Danny gave her a look of surprise. ‘Of course not. Why would I?’
‘No. Right. Well in that case, I guess that’s three of us then, eh, Polly?’
‘Great.’ Polly linked her arms through Brooke’s and Millie’s. ‘Let’s have a girly evening, shall we?’
Danny watched as they nipped across the road to Mrs Herron’s Teashop, where Polly lived with her brother Ray in the upstairs flat.
He sighed and turned right, heading for home. It was weird, he thought, how his mood could fluctuate so wildly. Not that long ago he’d been feeling strangely happy when his voice had drawn praise from so many people, and especially from Brooke. The look in her eyes – she’d had real pride as if it actually mattered to her that his talent had been recognised.
He tried to remember a similar look in Kirsty’s eyes but couldn’t. It had been so long ago, he thought in a sudden panic. Eighteen years. Was he starting to forget her? Could he even picture her face clearly?
He frowned as he walked, deep in thought.
Kirsty.Blue eyes. Blonde hair. A pretty face with a sprinkling of freckles on her nose and a slight dimple in her chin. So young and beautiful. So full of life. Did she ever think of him, he wondered. Did she rememberhimafter all this time? Could she close her eyes and picturehissmile, his eyes, the curve of his lips, the softness of his skin under her fingers?
‘Kirsty,’ he murmured sadly, as if by saying her name out loud he could bring her to him.
He sighed and mentally shook his head. What was the use? He was never going to see Kirsty again and maybe it was time he accepted that. He just wished he knew how.
There was a man walking towards him, gazing at a leaflet in his hand. Something familiar about him made Danny stop and stare. A tall man with dark hair that was going grey. A walk that reminded Danny of someone. A tourist he supposed. And yet…
The man looked up and gave Danny a strange look. If Danny hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn the man was trying to hide a smirk at his ridiculous costume, but that wasn’t possible, was it? He stepped aside, expecting the stranger to walk straight past him. But he didn’t. He stopped and the look on his face was so full of terror that Danny looked round to see what was behind him that had frightened him so much.
When he realised it was him that the man was looking at, he felt a shiver run down his spine.
It couldn’t be. Could it?
He stepped forward and the man stepped back, throwing up his hands as if to ward him off.
‘Rory?’
‘Bloody hell!’ Rory looked around frantically. ‘What the?—’
‘It’s me,’ Danny said, taking another step forward.
Rory shook his head. ‘Leave me alone! I know you’re not real. This is my imagination running riot. I knew I shouldn’t have come here. It’s punishment, that’s what it is. Go away!’
Danny’s face crumpled with pain. ‘Please, don’t say that. After all this time…’
