Page 43 of The Other Side

“You never did tell me what happened today,” Osian said.

Drum told him about the sheep, then the geese. “I definitely don’t have any ability to talk to animals. And yes, you’re allowed to laugh.”

So Osian did.

“It’s funny in retrospect but my dignity got dented.”

Drum told him about going to see the boys responsible for the sheep incident, the way the Motsons had complained about him and the reaction of his sergeant.

“That seems unreasonable,” Osian said. “Why would they want to make trouble for you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe to distract me? To deflect attention from their son? Tonight, I went to a senior citizen’s book club. They were very sweet. I ate too much cake and flapjack and… Then I set off on what I thought was going to be another wild goose chase, but it wasn’t.”

“This is the best day of my life since you disappeared.” Osian released a trembling breath. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I feel the same.”

For a moment neither of them spoke.

Then Osian glanced toward the bedside light. “That puts stars on the ceiling. I tried it out.”

“I don’t like the dark.”

“But I’m with you now. Do you think you can sleep?”

“I think I could sleep for a week.”

Osian put on the light effect and switched off the main light. Drum lay on his back, staring at the ceiling spattered with green stars. It should have felt strange with Osian beside him. Instead, after a few minutes, it felt oddly familiar. Like summer holidays. Like rainy evenings. Like a hundred nights from years ago when the world had seemed much simpler.

“Drum?” Osian said quietly.

“Hm?”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

The words settled warmly in the darkness. Drum swallowed. “You’re my friend. My best friend.”

Neither of them said anything after that.

Eventually Osian’s breathing slowed into sleep. Drum listened to the wind outside and the steady rhythm of Osian’s inhales and exhales beside him. For the first time all day, the noise in his head began to fade. Tomorrow would still be complicated. His feelings would still be confusing. The problems waiting for him beyond the cottage would still exist.

But not tonight. Tonight, he was home. Osian was with him. And that was enough.

Chapter Eight

The grey, fragile light of dawn was just filtering through the curtains when Osian’s eyes blinked open. Instantly, the cold space beside him told him everything he needed to know. He was alone. He’d freaked Drum out. Fuck.

He sighed, his exhalation sounding loud in the quiet room. A couple of times during the dead of night, he’d woken up to a completely different reality. In those fleeting, warm moments, he’d found Drum curled up tight against him, no space between them. For a while they’d lain with their foreheads gently touching, a subconscious return to the way they sometimes used to sleep as kids, shielding themselves from the rest of the world.

But now, the spot next to him was empty, as was the cottage. As Osian stared at the ceiling, a heavy ache settled deep in his chest. He wanted Drum. He wanted the easy warmth, the solid presence, the reassurance that whatever bond they shared was unbreakable. This was no longer childhood affection. Every instinct urged him to get up, throw on his boots, and go hunting for him. Reassure him!

But as he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he forced a slow, steadying breath into his lungs. They weren’t kids anymore, and the years between then and now couldn’t be erased overnight. Pushing too hard, too fast, might just spook Drum and send him running.

Osian rubbed a hand over his face, dampening the urgency humming in his veins. Now he’d move slowly. Now he’d be patient. He’d wait for the morning to unfold, one cautious step at a time.

When he got downstairs, he found Drum had left him a note next to a key. Gone to work. I’m going to buy you a phone! See you when I see you. x

Osian cherished the x.