Page 101 of The Other Side

“I will die before I lose you,” he whispered into the dark. “I swear it.”

~~~

The following day, Osian disguised Drum’s PCSO bike and helmet with the ease that came from years of making one thing look like another. The fluorescent markings on the bike were dulled into black, while the official helmet became a battered plain grey one. Beside it, he coaxed glamour into the air until a second bike shimmered into existence.

They rode out while the morning was still cool, keeping to the quieter roads until they reached the familiar lanes near the stables. The hedgerows were thick with summer green, birds darting across the road ahead of them. For a little while, Osian had fun. He and Drum freewheeled down hills and competed to be first to the top of the next rise. They were like boys again, teasing each other, and Osian wished his happiness wasn’t marred by worries he couldn’t quite push away.

The horses sensed them before they reached the yard. A chorus of nickers drifted across the paddocks as they rolled to a halt.

“Looks like you’ve got admirers,” Drum said.

“They’re hoping for carrots.”

Fi came out of the stable doorway, wiping her hands on a towel. She broke into a smile the moment she saw them. “Hi.”

“I brought help with me. This is Drum.”

“The new PCSO. Hello. I saw you in the pub.

Drum shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“We should have the work done in half the time,” Osian said. “Are we okay to take out Rogue and Dream?”

“Yes. But would you have a word with Will first? He’s a bit down today. I think he’d appreciate the company.”

“Then we’ll start with a cup of tea.” Osian tugged Drum towards the house. “Will has diplegic cerebral palsy. It’s fairly mild, but it affects both legs. His muscles are tight, his coordination isn’t great, and getting around can be tiring.”

“Is riding good for him?”

“Very. Fi loves horses, but I think she took on the stables because she wanted something they could share. She does most of the physical work, Will does the books.”

“Ask him if he wants to come with us.”

Osian had hoped they’d have a chance to talk about what they were going to do, but he nodded. “Okay.”

He knocked once before opening the door. “Will. Stop wanking. You’ve got visitors.”

“Give me a minute. I need to find the tissues,” Will called back.

Osian laughed and beckoned Drum inside. Will was stretched out on the sofa, his bodhrán resting on the floor beside him.

“This is Drum. Drum meet Will.”

“Hi,” Will said. “You shut us up in the pub.”

“I had to, sorry.”

“Did my dear sister send you in to cheer me up?”

“She sent us in for a cup of tea, which I suspect is what she actually wants,” Osian said. “Fancy one?”

“No, thanks.”

Drum glanced at the drum on the floor. “With a name like mine, I suppose I’m asking for trouble, but how long have you been playing the drum?”

“It’s called a bodhrán. And…a long while.”

“Would you show me?”