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# The Odd Bunnies

Sam Cullan

Copyright Sam Cullan 2014

First Published 2011

Smashwords Revised Edition 2014

All Rights Reserved

# 

# About The Odd Bunnies

This is a true story based on fictitious events - a love story with funny bits and the odd mystery.

There, you won't need to read it now.

# Legal Stuff and a Warning from the FBI

The Odd Bunnies

All Rights Reserved. Copyright Sam Cullan 2011-2014.

Any unauthorised broadcasting, public performance, copying or re-recording will constitute an infringement of copyright.

This story is fictitious and any resemblance to persons and rabbits, dead or alive, is entirely coincidental. Place names and dates have been changed to protect the innocent, the guilty and the nonplussed.

A Warning from the FBI

The Federation Bunny Internationale (FBI) insists I add this warning: Do not approach wild bunnies. Do not interfere with the daily goings-on of wild bunnies. Penalty for improper approach of, or interfering with, a wild bunny is a large fine and severe telling-off.

#  Dedication

For

Kota

# Preface

_Sam Cullan_ is a _pseudonym_ _,_ chosen because Sam is a unisex name and people won't know if she's a man or a woman. He was educated, but not so as you'd know it. After a long career in cold storage and driving precious packages around badly, she decided to do take up doing nothing.

When doing nothing got quite tedious, he decided to write a book based on all the jobs she hasn't told anybody about. The prequel to this 'test' book, which he hasn't written, will follow if lots of enthusiastic people with lots of money ask her nicely. He has already outlined plots for seven sequels, and would very much like to contribute to a film script, providing she gets a say in the casting of the central characters. Other than that, he's not fussy what happens to the plot.

She hates reading, and would prefer someone to do it for him. Not having read a book since 1984, Sam has only guessed at the writing procedure. Typing words for other people to read seemed like an easy way to get famous. Sam shuns publicity, and never gives interviews. However, she is open to offers in the region of £5,000.

Sam has no friends to thank, and thankfully no agent. However he would like to mention all those writers who have inspired him over the years: Douglas Adams.

Sam has no partner, civil or otherwise, has no dependents and currently resides in Torbay where he mostly enjoys tickling tractors and taunting tramps.

_December 5_ th _, 2011_

#  Introduction

It is a widely held belief in many cultures, that rabbits hold the key to a long and fruitful life with lots of rumpy-pumpy.

It is widely believed that the last of those cultures died out in 1973.

## Chapter One

"Who's there?"

The girl halted and reversed into the darkness, her eyes straining to cut through the cold, damp night air. Below her, the path snaked round to the right for a few yards before plunging into a black abyss beyond a steep flight of steps, the grey limestone abraded by centuries of wear into smoothly concave treads. A solitary street light shone from high above the dank, crumbling stone walls, casting downwards an anaemic orange glow that cast into perverted relief the myriad of mysterious forms on the wall facing her, but fell some way short of illuminating the freshly laid black tarmac.

As she retreated further into the inky shadows, the girl's senses were engulfed in her own anxiety, her vacant eyes, pounding heart and stifled breaths masking the world around her. Edging closer to the wall her sense of smell overtook all others, as the pungent odour of stone and mortar and dirt - mutated by centuries of damp and decay - filled her delicate nostrils.

She had failed to see the protruding hands poised menacingly close to her exposed cheeks. With a sweeping flick a cold, slimy finger embraced the soft white flesh. She flinched and brushed the fern aside, wiping her neck with a gloved hand and unwittingly letting out an audible shriek.

"Are you alright?"

The girl's cover was blown. "I'm OK, just got molested by a plant." The tone was artificially light, masking her annoyance. She eyed the approaching figure as it climbed the steps and shuffled into view.

"Sorry." Will squinted as his eyes adjusted to the shadows, but the stranger's white face was enveloped in a bubble of her own mist and his glasses were corrupting the meagre light. He caught only fleeting glimpses as she hovered on the edge of darkness. "I thought someone was stalking me." The cheesiness of his puerile quip was not lost on either person.

"Oh, I see - well you don't have to worry about me." The girl forced a well-rehearsed grin.

"No, no - you don't look dangerous." Will laughed.

"I'm totally harmless." She allowed herself a wry smile.

"American, right?"

"You got me." It was a deliberately feeble attempt to hide the tedium that she wanted to introduce into her voice.

"You look familiar... sorry, that sounded creepy."

The girl agreed that it was creepy, but she was used to it. "No, sorry. Just moved here, never met you. Sorry." She expertly delivered one last, extra-tedious grin to convey that it was time to terminate this brief encounter.

Will was the sort of guy who was impervious to signs. He stood and stared for fully five seconds before correctly interpreting the silent grimace as chilly, and not because of the weather. He felt uncomfortable now, but also intrigued because the girl looked so familiar.

The girl grasped the hood of her cape with both hands and pulled it purposefully upwards over her fine, blonde hair and down over her forehead to cover her perfectly manicured eyebrows, feigning a cold-induced shudder so as not to appear too rude.

"OK, well, better get along. Take care." Will had picked up the falling penny.

She nodded and made word shapes with barely-parted lips, but no perceptible sounds reached Will's ears. She pulled a phone from a pocket in her voluminous cape and gestured that she needed to use it. Will returned a nod and continued his climb, leaving the girl now staring into the large colour screen, a faint digital glow highlighting her delicate features. Will found this vaguely creepy, but also alluring.

Nevertheless his concern was genuine. Broadford was by all accounts safer than your average big city, but here on the outskirts between the University and the wide river it was dark and thinly populated. This narrow, winding passage had been cut deep into the side of a hill by generations long-forgotten, and over the years the walls on either side had been built up until, in places, they were some twelve feet high. In the dark, the tunnel-like qualities of this ominous void repelled all but the bravest souls.

During the day, however, this was a popular short-cut for people working in the industrial area by the river and for rail travellers using the mainline station, or just for those wanting to escape the noise and dirt of the congested city centre to stretch out on the green banks of the river. Not that it was especially quiet by the river - accompanied as it was by the London to Penzance railway line on one side, and Broadford ring road on the other. All round it there were small industrial units, mostly independent traders who'd been forced from prime locations in the city and major trading estates by spiralling rents. A pub next to a foaming weir was a popular lunchtime retreat for students and office workers, but after dark was mostly patronised by trendy, wine-and-foodie types.

Many of these points raced through Will's head, as he was always alert, always calculating risks and planning escape routes. Some would say he was paranoid, but he was of the opinion that it was always better to be prepared. He had assessed the girl as minimal risk - possibly a honeytrap, maybe a psychopath. Her age and accent suggested a student, one unfamiliar with the risks he'd calculated one might expose oneself to when negotiating the back-alleys of Broadford late at night. Then again, students – especially American students – probably carried pepper spray, or knives, or guns.

Satisfied that the girl was not at risk but he might be, Will strode more purposefully toward the top of Satan's Crack - a name he had given to the path because he thought the actual name 'Nancy's Passage' (after a local girl of loose morals who plied her trade there) did not fully convey the sense of foreboding one ought to feel when entering such a dark, creepy alley. It seemed to him like a scar cleaved deep into the earth, just as one might imagine the Devil might cut in order to trap unwary souls.

Will was out of breath, sweating, and his leg muscles burned. At 37 he'd suffered a back injury which meant he'd spent much of the past seven years on his backside. Drugs, to ease the pain he felt in his back and legs, made him lethargic and increased his already commodious appetite. He was overweight, a smoker (though he had quit three times in five years, a statistic he would generously impart to all smokers who said it was near-impossible to give up) and he had driven everywhere since passing his test at 18. Being a talented cross-country runner up to the age of 18 was perhaps the only reason his well-developed heart and lungs were able to subsist.

Stopping momentarily to let his lungs fill with the noxious concoction of mist and exhaust fumes that passed for air in the city and for his heart to slow to a sub-critical rate, he turned and looked back along the passageway. The silhouette of a girl was still just visible some 20 yards away. Still a little concerned for her safety, he scanned the area for muggers and rapists. The road was busy with traffic, and on the opposite side there were herds of students making their way into town for the evening session. His finely-tuned instincts told him there were no muggers or rapists in the vicinity, and he could leave the girl with a clear conscience. He took a deep breath and prepared to climb up St Nectan's Road. It was then he noticed two rustic-looking gentlemen bearing down on him.

"You'mz puffin' hard, bay," mumbled one.

"Ar, eez jus' cum up Nances Passage!" squawked the second, and they both descended into howls of inebriated cackling, no doubt pleased with the slickness of their well-worn routine. Will wondered if they'd spent _very_ much time loitering here, eagerly accosting every hapless soul who happened to emerge from the steep alley of unfortunate appellation. He flinched as the stale alcohol-laden air assaulted his freshly 'oxygenated' nostrils, but politely cackled back at them as if to acknowledge the wondrousness of their collective comedy routine, before hurrying on.

It was a few hundred yards from the comedy duo to his car, left in a quiet side street while he had met up with an old college friend at the Foaming Weir pub. Nigel was in town for a talk at the university's 'Classics and Ancient History' department, and had staggered back, in what he believed to be the approximate direction of his campus digs, to write a speech. Will's principles and lack of cash prohibited him from paying car parking fees and he had become adept at finding the few remaining free, non-resident spaces left in Broadford. This inevitably meant walking further than one of such indolent tendencies found agreeable, but it was at least a reason to exercise.

As he approached the red Rover, he felt inside his jacket pocket and pushed his thumb against the plastic key fob. The Rover's lights briefly lit up the dark street and the door locks whirred reassuringly. He pulled the door open and collapsed ungracefully into the driver's seat, groaning at the anticipated pain of contorting back and legs. He settled into the soft velour and groaned again, before quickly exiting the car and snatching the paper leaflet from under the wiper blade. Straining to see in the light filtered from a distant street lamp, he made out the words ' _Have fun, get fit, make friends, feel safe. Come to Broadford's only licensed Krav Maga class._ _Money-back guarantee_ – _if you get mugged, we will refund you in full.'_

Will's first thought was along the lines of w _hat the hell?_ His second was _ouch,_ followed by an audible "Ow!" followed by a third thought, _what the hell?_ He heard a second thud, coming from somewhere behind his ears, and promptly passed out before he could think any more.

## Chapter Two

_What the hell?_ This was Will's first thought on waking up, quickly followed by _ow_ and then _what the hell?_ He felt the lump on the back of his head. _Ouch._ Will didn't like waking up at the best of times; having been beaten over the head, and feeling sore and confused, this was an especially unwanted waking-up.

With blurred vision (which wasn't _so_ unusual on waking-up) he groped in the fuzziness of his bedside shelf and found his glasses. Putting them on brought the room into focus, but his focus was still cockeyed. _Hmm._ This was his bedroom, unless he had been transported to a parallel universe. His eyes focused on the face to his right. Staring down at him, Sarah Michelle Gellar wore her slightly coy, closed-lip smile; the smile of a powerful yet playful woman, as if to say 'you can play, but I make the rules.' To her right, Sarah Michelle Gellar looked rather more serious, with a stern frown on her face and a hint of blood-lust in her eyes, clearly saying 'go on punk, make my day'. He ignored Christina Aguilera, who was merely covering a patch of flaky paint.

" _I'm tired and I just don't wanna go out,"_ chirped the girl, " _Woo-hoo."_ Will knew how she felt. He didn't want to get out of bed, but he needed answers. He wasn't sure what the questions were, but he wanted them answered. " _Just one more thing I can do without, Woo-hoo, I'm tired and I just don't wanna go out."_

"And that was Nerina Pallot with ..." Will jabbed a finger at the radio 'off' button. Bob Barker would be too much for his fuzzy brain right now. He rarely woke early enough to listen to The Breakfast Show anyway, and this morning he needed answers, not jabbering tittle-tattle. He groaned in disbelief at a familiar, if muffled, babbling. Now he'd have to get up - to turn the downstairs radio off.

Groaning as he manoeuvred aching muscles and tired bones, he tossed the duvet in the general direction of Christina Aguilera and swung his legs over the side of the bed. _At least I don't have to get dressed_. He stood and ambled slowly toward the window. A twist of a bar with his thumb and forefinger, and the blinds reluctantly flicked open, dribbling weak sunlight into the room. Weak sunlight dribbling was the best he could hope for, as his bedroom window faced due north. Peering downwards through the slits, the familiar shape of a bright red Rover saloon stood out against the uniformly bleak expanse of grey tarmac and brown fencing.

_Strange_. Strange the car was here, as he really couldn't remember driving it home. _Strange_. It was parked with the front end facing the fence, and Will always reversed the car in - mainly because that meant the driver's door was very close to the front door of his house. It was also a lot easier to drive out in a forwards manner than mess around with reversing, but mainly he parked that way so he would be very close to the front door. If it was raining, as it probably would be, that extra 12-foot walk could be significant, or so he'd convinced himself.

Will was feeling happier. Happy that his car hadn't been stolen, or trashed. Not that anybody would choose to steal a twelve-year-old diesel Rover, even if it was a comfortable and reliable car. Happy that he wasn't dead – or worse, in intensive care, a vegetable. Happy that there was no discernible brain damage, but aware that his semi-conscious state might be masking it. Happy that the sun was shining, even if he couldn't actually see it.

Not so happy. His thoughts returned to the previous night, and the lump on his head. He hadn't had _that_ much to drink and he hadn't got into a fight – at least, not a mutually-agreed fight. _Confused. Need answers. Need to turn that babbling DJ off. Need coffee. Need sugary snack. Need a fag._

Will's brain was only beginning to come round - some twenty minutes after his body, as usual. With some trepidation he turned away from the window and reached for the door handle. He had felt safe, if confused, whilst the door was shut and he was cocooned in his cosy bedroom with Sarah, Christina and the blonde girl riding a scooter. He stopped to admire the scooter rider's poise, and mused that she must have been riding it in a very hot country, for she had neglected leathers in favour of shorts and a t-shirt, which presumably she'd borrowed from her much younger and smaller sister.

He wondered if his attacker was downstairs. He wondered if his attacker was merely taking a break from attacking him, maybe getting a coffee and a cigarette. He wondered why his attacker had put him to bed, switched the radio on (and how his attacker knew he always went to sleep with the radio on) why he'd parked the car, and why he'd not finished him off last night. Maybe his attacker was a masochistic psychopath, deriving pleasure from extended torture sessions interposed with tauntingly optimistic periods of non-torture.

Well, he needed a pee, so he'd have to find out sooner rather than later because the bathroom was downstairs. In fact, everything was downstairs except his bedroom, in his peculiar little house. He swung the door open and peered downwards to the left, over the bannister. The curtains were still drawn and the only noise was that familiar babbling. "Now this has been bothering me for some time, but why is a carrot more orange than an orange? If there's anything bothering you, let us know!"

Will gripped the hand rail and descended the wooden stairs. Craaaack. Squeakkkk. No point trying to hide his advancement from the torturers, as every step was accompanied by the sounds of cheap wood complaining angrily at every footstep. At the bottom he turned left and stepped onto the soft, quiet Berber. Grasping the blue curtain, he flicked an arm and the room was flooded with bright, clear light. Nobody was there. He swept the second curtain aside and reached for the radio's remote control.

"Here's Kate Nash with I Hate Seagulls."

"I hate seagulls and I hate being sick. I hate burning my finger on the toaster and I hate nits."

_Clunk_ went the radio amp. Will liked Kate Nash, but he also liked seagulls. He was apathetic about nits, and frankly couldn't understand how anyone could burn their finger on a toaster - unless the toaster was an open fire, but he doubted Kate browned her thick-sliced that way. _Click_ went the TV 'on' button.

"Later we'll be talking to Dr Ruth Popalottalouse about nits, but now here is the news in your area."

"Hello, welcome to BBC Spotlight, I'm Ellie Broadbottom. Police in Tottyford are advising drivers to avoid the main street today, as the town's annual crab festival gets under way."

Will aimed the remote control at the set and Ellie obligingly lowered her voice. He stepped into his comfortable slippers and walked eight paces to the kettle. _Hmm, here could be answers._ He stared at the bright green square of paper stuck to the kettle. There were no windows in the kitchen, so he carefully grasped a corner between his index finger and thumb, mindful that there might be finger prints on this vital piece of evidence, and headed back to the lounge window.

" _Dear Will, hope your head is OK. I'll check in later - Alice."_ A heart shape was scrawled just above the A in Alice. Will knew of three Alices and as far as he was aware, none of them was living with him at this time. Indeed, when he thought about it, two of them didn't know where he lived and the third was very unlikely to move in with him. This was not helping provide answers, merely creating new questions. He didn't need any more questions, however he was mildly pleased that Alice had gone to the trouble of drawing a little heart and he decided that whoever she was, she probably wasn't a masochistic psychopath. Then again, he'd made similarly erroneous judgements about women in the past.

He carefully stuck the note on the glass covering a signed photo of an actress that adorned the wall next to the window. He'd come back to this conundrum later, after some caffeine, sugar and nicotine. Returning to the kettle, he picked it up and noted that it was half full. _Odd._ Will only ever filled the kettle to the minimum level, and any surplus hot water was poured over the pile of used dishes that invariably resided in the sink. Filling a kettle for a cup of coffee was just wasteful – wasteful of water and, more importantly, wasteful of the electricity needed to boil it. He would be having a stern word with Alice, or asking for a contribution to his utility bills..

He put the kettle back on its base and flicked the switch. Mug, spoon, coffee, whitener, water, stir. Bowl, cornflakes, semi-skimmed milk, spoon, slurp, crunch, gone. _More needed._ He retired to the big, blue velour sofa that took up a quarter of the lounge and sat, feet on the coffee table, before devouring a second large bowl of sweet, nutty flakes. Baccy tin, filter, liquorice paper. Deftly-rolled mini brown cigarette in mouth, he reached down the side of the cushion and found a lighter. Click, whirr, burn, puff. He sat back contented, coffee in one hand and fag in the other, and listened to Dr Popalottalouse's advice on how to exterminate the plague that was nits.

## Chapter Three

Will woke to the dulcet tones of Ellie telling him he should go outside and make the most of the fine weather that was forecast, but to take a coat because the clear skies and weak sunshine would invariably mean a chilly end to the day.

He felt groggy, and surprised that he'd nodded off so early in the day; after lunch, maybe, but not after breakfast. Then he realised it was not Ellie who had woken him. _Ding-dong, ding-dong; ding-dong, ding-dong_. That was approximately the sound his doorbell made. He staggered uneasily to his feet and swung left towards the hall. Through two slits of frosted glass in the top half of the front door, he could make out a dark figure. Too short and slight of frame to be a policeman, bailiff or axe-wielding gorilla, Will figured it was safe to proceed.

He noted the keys were not in the lock as usual, and wondered if the mysterious Alice had taken them. If so, this might not be her. _Clack, clack, clackety clack_ went the knocker. Steeling himself ready for another nasty surprise, he opened the door. His jaw, such as it was, dropped. His mouth opening and closing like an exasperated goldfish, he stared at the short figure in a black cape.

"Wh..., wha.., wh..."

"Hi."

"Wha..., wha..., wh..." Will's brain was attempting to kick-start his mouth, but there were evidently crossed circuits. "Ummm.... errrr.... Hi?"

"Hi. How are you feeling?"

"Confused. Very. Totally. More than that, actually. A lot more. Plus a bit."

"Can I come in?"

Will had no words left; his brain was overloaded but his mouth was empty. He stepped aside and gestured with an outstretched arm. The short black figure gracefully stepped forward and eased past him along the short, narrow corridor. He peered outside and looked around the close – there were no signs of activity, apart from old Joe who was washing his Cadillac again. He made some more goldfish faces and quietly closed the door. He turned and faced the figure, now hovering between the kitchen and lounge. It would take a while for him to make sense of the situation, longer than he thought he could stand and gape. Slowly a smile crept across his confusingly twisted, stubbly face. Alice smiled back.

"I guess you're wondering why I'm here."

Will thought this might be the most glaringly obvious statement he'd ever heard. He had to summon every inch of consciousness and coolness before considering a reply.

"I have questions, yes. Lots of questions. Lots more than I had before you showed up - and that was a lot." Will was babbling. He babbled when nervous, and Alice made him very nervous. This situation made him nervous. This promised to be a very nervous conversation. "Last night...."

"I can explain everything."

"Everything?" Will felt the lump on his head.

"Yes."

Will stayed calm, due more to numbness than coolness. "Coffee?"

"Umm, can't really explain that - but there are books, and web sites."

Will laughed involuntarily, then voluntarily. "I meant ..."

"Umm OK, I'll have a coffee," Alice spoke hesitantly. She placed an expensive-looking bag on the coffee table, gracefully slipped off her long black velvet cloak and jumped backwards into the sofa. Will politely took her coat, which he carefully draped over the bannister. He turned on the spot and peeled the bright green note from the signed photo of Alice that hung on the wall facing the stairs. He looked at the writing on the note, and looked at the signature on the photo. _What an idiot._

"Thanks for that," he gestured toward the photo.

"No problem."

"You must get bored signing your name. Still, maybe I could have another...? Plenty of wall space left to fill." He couldn't say it of course, but he'd never actually liked the photo. That was his fault, for not adhering to the etiquette of enclosing a photo along with his letter and stamped return envelope. He couldn't complain, for at least she'd sent one. But it just was a small portrait taken at some corporate event. He had been intrigued by the enigmatic smile she wore, and was sure there was more to it than met the eye. However, it looked dull alongside the rows of eight-by-ten inch, colourful, glossy prints he had collected from stars of his favourite TV show.

Alice smiled. "Sure - later?"

Will nodded in compliance. "I'll get that coffee. Cup or mug?"

"A mug will be fine, thanks."

Will rattled through a cupboard and emerged with two of his poshest mugs. "Milk and sugar?"

"Neither, thanks."

Two posh mugs of cheap coffee quickly materialized and were placed on the table in front of his guest. Will sank into his bottom-shaped cushion, awkwardly fidgeting and twisting his ample bulk until he was able to face Alice, without appearing to get too familiar. He tried casually bending and lifting his left leg onto the sofa, but the stabbing pain in his back told him to stop. He settled on wedging his bulk diagonally into the corner of the squidgy seat, feet supported on the coffee table. At times like this he wished he'd had another chair, but the room was small and he rarely had guests.

Alice, being younger and of slight build, could easily relax in any position and she chose to sit side-on, her back against the arm rest, with one slender leg tucked neatly beneath her. Will made a decent attempt at being cool, not staring too intently or for too long. She looked like any ordinary 22-year-old girl, with blue jeans hugging her gym-toned but womanly legs, baggy white tee, and baggier grey knitted cardigan. Her black leather, low-heeled boots were scruffy, unpolished, and looked comfortable rather than stylish. She wore a gold watch on her left wrist, no other jewellery, and there was an aura of perfection emanating from every detail of the finely stitched clothing, her immaculate nails, soft glowing skin and golden hair.

She reached for her bag - a grey, crumpled leather creation that looked like a cross between a handbag and a rucksack. It was adorned with brass studs, rings and zips - most of which appeared superfluous to Will \- and showed signs of wear around the bottom edges. Will took no interest in fashion, but it looked very expensive and he thought it probably cost more than his car. The fact that she clearly treated it as a workaday utensil rather than a posh accessory, said something about her carefree attitude as well as her bank balance. Alice unzipped one of the zips Will had supposed was purely decorative, and brought out a book which she placed on the sofa between them.

Will didn't think this day could get any stranger, and if truth be told he wasn't entirely sure he hadn't died and gone to heaven. Or maybe he was still asleep, and dreaming pleasant dreams. The well-thumbed book Alice had presented was not, however, usually part of those dreams. He picked it up. _Buffy Saved My Life._ He couldn't decide if he should be embarrassed or proud. His favourite TV show had indeed saved his life, or at least stopped him from spiralling into a pit of depression during a particularly difficult time. He'd watched the entire seven seasons, as well as the five of _Angel_ , pretty much in one sitting. The book wasn't about that, but a semi-fictional tale based on the mythologies, set in his home county, with Will drawing on his own experiences and fantasies. The line between them was blurred in the book, reflecting his very muddled view of life. He thought it best to let the reader decide what was fact and what was fiction. He was unable, or unwilling, to make any such distinction for himself.

"Not seen this for a while. You must have the only printed copy."

The book was the only one he'd ever had published, if self-publishing counts. He had uploaded it to a web site that sold both electronic and printed versions, but the printed versions were so very expensive he really hadn't expected anyone to buy one. He knew one had been sold about a year ago, but put it down to a friend who felt sorry for him.

"I found it by accident. When I got your letter, I thought you sounded kinda cute, so I Googled you."

Will thought Alice must have been very disappointed when she met him, which perhaps explained why she was a bit stand-offish last night.

"Sorry if I disappointed you. Don't think anybody has called me cute, not for forty years anyway."

Alice didn't take the bait. "I get a lot of fan letters, but yours were different."

"Different. Ah, yes, that's a more appropriate word." They both grinned, satisfied with the description.

"Don't you have people to do stuff - like reading letters - for you?"

"Well, some letters don't reach me." Alice made an unsuccessful attempt at a wink. Her nose wrinkled in a way Will thought very cute. "When they do, I try to read them."

"Ah, OK." Will was beginning to settle into the conversation, which almost seemed normal now. Then he realised he had been beaten over the head the night before, and was talking to a Hollywood actress lounging on his sofa. Pleasant as her company was, it was most definitely not normal.

"So, umm, did you hit me over the head last night? Drive me home? Put me to bed?"

It seemed an odd question to ask Alice Cross, star of a dozen movies, who'd acted alongside some of the very best actors of the 21st century. It seemed an odd question to ask anybody you were chatting to on your sofa over a mug of coffee, but it just seemed so much odder to be asking her. The oddness of seeing her in a rural English city, let alone outside his front door, seemed inconsequential by comparison.

"No."

When he thought about it, there was no way Alice could have lifted him into the car, let alone carried him upstairs to bed. It was a stupid question, but she was too polite to say so.

"But, I was _kinda_ stalking you," she said softly, embarrassed. "I wanted to bump into you and make it seem accidental, but I chickened out."

Alice took a sip of coffee and grimaced.

"Sorry, cheap coffee." Will was stating the blindingly obvious to Alice, who considered the coffee might make her blind.

"That's OK. Maybe we could go out and get a decent cup? I have questions too, about this." She tapped the book with two poised, slender fingers.

"Sure. I should probably change."

"Oh, into what?"

Will laughed. "Something other than a dirty, smelly slob."

"Good idea." Alice wrinkled her nose again.

Will didn't even care now if she thought he was a dirty, smelly slob. He was awake, almost 80% conscious, and about to go on some sort of date with a film star. Whatever it was that had brought him to this situation, he really didn't care about that either. Suddenly life had got a whole lot rosier, and he skipped up the stairs like a frisky gazelle. The stairs still complained.

Ten minutes later and reeking of cheap deodorant, he presented himself. His cropped, dark blonde hair was clearly intended for a differently shaped head. The faded blue jeans bore the logo of a well-known supermarket clothing line, and the black leather jacket gave him the appearance of a Ukrainian gangster. Fortunately he had some nice shirts, and had chosen a particularly trendy V-necked grey polo. Unfortunately, he didn't have the torso it was designed for.

Alice thought he needed some styling advice, but she would save it for later. "Ready?"

"Ready."

Alice handed Will a bunch of keys. Will handed Alice a velvet cloak.

"Now, decent coffee in Newington might be hard to find. Decent by your standards, anyway."

"Can't be any worse than that." Alice glared at the fetid black liquid Will had served her.

"Huh, won't make you another."

"Good!"

"Impudent child."

"Come on pops, let's go." Alice was already out the door, hood up, eyes to the ground.

Will locked the door, checked it thrice, and turned to see Alice in the passenger seat of the Rover. He suddenly didn't care if it had been left unlocked all night. He slid into the driver's seat and turned the key part-way, fastened his seat belt as the glow-plugs warmed, then brought the old Rover engine clattering into life. Still a little annoyed he had to reverse out, he nevertheless manoeuvred the old car swiftly and precisely. Driving was one thing he could do well, having made it his living for some 20 years - in between a dozen other jobs. No matter who was sat next to him, or what they thought of him, he knew they couldn't criticize his driving.

It was a mile from his home to the centre of town. Will negotiated the maze of streets surrounding his home and exited the estate onto a large roundabout. He didn't like talking and driving as he found it distracting, and the five minute journey was completed almost in silence. The Rover pulled into a one-way street just outside the centre of Newington, and Will deftly reversed into the only empty space. The street was narrow, bordered on one side by a terrace of large Georgian houses which were now occupied by solicitors, accountants, and other professional agencies. On the other side, a Gothic church loomed beyond a poorly maintained hedge. Towers and spires of the local grey limestone reached for the heavens, and all around the base were monuments of marble, granite, limestone and rusty iron.

Alice looked around. "Scary."

"Ha, this is the posh part of town."

"No, I meant your driving."

Will scowled at the grinning girl. She had him sussed already.

Alice put her hand on Will's elbow and guided him across the road.

_Yep, Alice is bright._ Somehow this slight girl, a stranger in his country, made him feel safe. It was an odd feeling, but he wasn't about to complain. He looked forward to having a conversation with someone who might be of a similar intellect, and he felt pleased, even vindicated, that he had chosen to write a fan letter to this fascinating young woman.

Will smiled at Alice, and the short walk to the coffee shop was completed in comfortable silence.

## Chapter Four

Newington was a bustling market town of some 25,000 people, which made it quite significant in this far-flung corner of England. The central area was pedestrianized, and home to both an indoor and outdoor market. Today was also livestock market day, and although the local farming industry had declined dramatically in recent years, the fact that this centuries-old centre still operated meant that every farm and estate in the county would be represented here. Their numbers were swelled by curious townies who just liked walking between pens filled with sheep, pigs and cattle – a free trip to a domesticated, if smelly, zoo. In the streets, ex-townies who had 'found' country living, plied their trade.

Market Street was stuffed full of stalls covered in pristine white Chinese tablecloths, and pristine Chinese wicker baskets which were stuffed to the brim with jars of jam, chutney, pickles and various other condiments, alongside artistic displays of local wines, vinegar and oils. Sprinklings of pristine yellow straw proved beyond doubt that these were wholesome products, free of nasty chemicals and untainted by corporate blandness. A line of pristine cars and vans covered in expensive plastic banners proclaiming the authenticity of the produce, sheltered the producers - who were tired of standing in the bustling street, or disgusted at the sea of plastic shopping bags hurrying past their piles of environmentally friendly goodies.

Will knew all this, which is why he had parked well away from it. The down-town area of Queen Street housed the genuinely local traders, who could not afford the rents in the town centre. Here you could buy fish landed a few miles away that morning, meat from farms bordering the town, bread and cakes freshly baked on the premises, hand-made garments, jewellery, gifts and books. Here you could get a haircut for under a tenner, as Will did thrice a year, or scour the charity shops for a real bargain. There were plenty of wealthy patrons living here and it seemed only right that their expensive, worn-once garments be utilized in a manner which benefited charities as well as the poorer fashionistas.

Alice looked around the coffee shop. It wasn't like those back home. In fact, it wasn't typical of most British high streets, where uniformly characterless multi-nationals jostled for prime position. Will liked it here, where you could still get some sense of what he understood an old English market town should be. He ushered his date into a corner where he considered she would be safe from attackers. Alice's delicate finger drew a heart shape in the misty window, then she quickly rubbed it out and peered through the blurry space.

Will had his face buried in the menu. "Hungry?"

"Errrr ..." Alice had some reservations about eating in public, but a quick scan of the room seemed to ease her concerns. She counted a dozen or so tables, six of which were bare. No more than eight people, six of them women, were busy sipping tea from flowery china cups or eating small pieces of cake with delicate forks. Alice was the youngest person here, by some considerable distance. Even Will, twice her age, looked out of place. Nobody was looking at them - probably just some father and daughter meeting up for lunch - and most likely nobody here would, in their wildest dreams, be expecting to see a famous actor; so they just _didn't_ see her.

Alice's sparking blue eyes flitted across the menu. "What's a pasty?"

Will laughed. She had pronounced it like it rhymed with 'tasty'.

"A Cornish pasty?"

Will corrected here before she drew too much attention. "Well, it's like a pie, pastry with meat and vegetables - no gravy." He took a deep breath. He was half-Cornish, and proud of his country. For it was indeed a country, all alone in the furthest south-west corner of England and surrounded only by water, bar a few miles where it bordered his home county. It had its own language, and the people there were different; stocky, hard-working, proud. He wanted to explain the history of the pasty and how it had been hijacked by the English, but thought better of it. Alice was looking inquisitively at him, anticipating more facts.

Will settled for the short version. "You won't get a genuine Cornish pasty outside of Cornwall." He knew this to be true, having eaten many pasties both inside and outside of Cornwall.

"Does it matter?"

Will looked indignant. "Yes."

"Sorryeee."

Will smiled. "Try one if you want, but go for the shortcrust version with steak."

"Rrrrrright." Alice was utterly bemused, but willing to play the game. "I'll let you order."

Will ordered two steak pasties and a pot of tea for two. The youngest waitress, not a day under 65, returned with two cups and saucers rattling in her hands. Three minutes later, she brought some spoons and some knives and forks tightly bound in plain white cotton napkins. Another minute and the milk arrived, along with a stainless steel pot of hot water. Will politely thanked her.

"Looks a bit weak." Alice was fishing in the pot for a teabag, or something she could identify.

"It's strong enough for water."

"Oh..." She beamed, a child-like grin sweeping across her face. She had the type of face you could not avoid staring at, not beautiful in the classic way, but as pretty as the prettiest thing you can imagine. Anyone who saw Alice smile would be captivated and fall instantly in love. Will composed himself.

"You'll get used to our quaint customs."

"I sure hope so. Should we have brought our own teabags?"

Will wasn't sure if this mischievous and talented actress was messing with him.

"Well I have, didn't you?"

Waitress 65 placed a large stainless steel pot of steaming tea between the giggling pair. A significant portion of it landed on the tablecloth. "Just get yur paztees." Waitress 65 moved away again.

"That's why we have hot water – to top it up."

Alice covered her laughter with her hand. "Shhh, she'll hear you."

"I doubt it."

"Nothing wrong with my hearing, dear." Waitress 65 plonked a pasty in front of Will. She walked around the table and gently laid Alice's plate in front of her. "There you are dear, enjoy your meal." She scowled at Will and stomped indignantly away.

"Now I feel awful."

"And so you should."

"It's your fault, I'm usually very polite. I'll have to leave a tip." The thought made Will shudder; waitresses had to earn tips, and this one had nothing to prove now. Alice looked very disapprovingly at him, so he winked to hide the fact he wasn't kidding.

Alice extricated her cutlery and tucked the napkin into her collar. Will winced. "Your serviette goes on your lap."

"My what?"

Will winced again. "That thing you probably call a napkin. It goes in your lap, not your collar."

"O-kkkkk... why?"

"Etiquette."

"Oh, I've heard of that."

Will was not posh, but he had been brought up _properly_. He didn't expect the average Brit, let alone Americans, to be well versed in his olde English customs and was very happy to educate them. Alice had quickly sensed an opportunity for mischief and wasn't slow in taking advantage. She'd spent enough time in Britain with posh actors to learn some of the quaint customs, but it wouldn't hinder her fun. She took Will's empty cup and saucer, and picked up the milk jug.

"Milk first?"

Will wasn't stupid, but her bright young mind had the edge. He scowled.

Alice laughed, shielding her mouth with her hand. "Just messing with ya." She put down the milk and picked up the teapot. Weak or strong?

"Strong please."

"OK if I stir it?"

Will nodded. Alice smirked and stirred the pot before pouring the steaming amber liquid to three-quarters of a cup, then added just enough milk to create the perfect tea colour. She passed the cup in its saucer.

"Ta."

Alice scowled. "I think you mean _why,_ _thank you mam."_

"That sounds like Southern America, not southern England."

"And _ta_ sounds like northern England."

"Very good. I see your time here has not been wasted."

Alice tucked into her pasty, which was not her first. Will played with his. It was a reasonable imitation, but the meat was basically minced and swamped by potato. He really didn't like the spicy overtones, either. However the pastry was fair, not too greasy.

"So, I had the strangest night. How about you?"

Alice smiled with her eyes, as her mouth was busy. When it wasn't, she began to explain. She explained that she'd phoned her driver and asked him to follow Will. She explained that the driver was watching as a shady-looking character placed flyers on all the cars in the unlit street. She even explained it was a known ploy of stranded lowlifes, to hijack cars – any car - to procure a ride home. She explained how her driver had been too slow to stop the sleazeball whacking Will, but had managed to jump on him and stop him taking the car.

"You weren't totally out, just dazed, so he put you in your car, picked me up, and we drove you home."

"And the sleazeball?"

"He got away."

"Bugger."

Alice explained how she was sorry not to have dialled 999 and all that, but her driver was trained in First Aid. Besides, she wanted her presence here to remain secret. Will forgave her. He had been concussed before, three times, and not died or suffered any serious brain damage. He trusted her and her driver. He was far more concerned about the sleazeball.

"I really would like to get my hands on him."

"Sorry we let him escape. Marvin – my driver – gave him a good whack, but was more concerned with checking you out."

"Well, that's one question answered. My next question is why you had to travel nearly six thousand miles to tell me you liked my book."

"Under four. I was in New York."

"Of course. Just a short hop across the pond, then."

Alice, for the first time, stuttered. "It's complicated."

"Finished?"

Alice looked puzzled. "Err, I hadn't started."

"Your tea."

"Oh yes, yes. You wanna leave?"

I think it might be better. Walls have ears and all that. And waitresses, evidently."

Waitress 65 tutted and returned to her station.

Will paid the bill and Alice left a tip. They emerged from the corner café and headed west up Queen Street, warmed by afternoon sunshine. Alice pulled a pair of Ray-Ban Wayfarers from her pocket and pushed them on with one hand.

"Disguise?"

Alice wasn't entirely sure herself. "Partly, and I don't like the sun." Will didn't like the sun either, but in truth this one wasn't blinding. He pondered what it must be like to need sunglasses to go out in public and also how conspicuous Alice was, being the only person in Newington with shades.

"I actually think you're drawing attention to yourself."

Alice stuttered for a second time. She weighed-up looking conspicuous against looking familiar, and left the shades in place. She tentatively held a hand against Will's elbow.

"I'm sure you'll protect me."

"Depends on what you want from me, or my book." Will smiled and guided her up a side street, until they reached a footpath running alongside a channelled, burbling stream. They found a seat recessed into a grassy bank, and settled on it.

"OK..." Alice began. She explained about her interest in the mythologies within Will's book, how she wanted to seek out some of the places mentioned, and what she sought to gain from this adventure. Will listened intently for a full five minutes and allowed her to finish uninterrupted.

"OK?" Alice finished.

Will was a good listener, understanding and open-minded. "This is a wind-up, right?!"

Alice was a little disappointed with the reaction. "No."

She pleaded with her eyes, and Will was anything but immune to her charms. He looked around just in case there were hidden cameras, Ashton Kutchers or ghosts of Jeremy Beadle lurking in bushes with wigs and false moustaches. Alice's pleading face convinced him there probably weren't.

"You do know it's a fictional story?"

"Based on real events, places, people."

"Yes, but basically I made it up."

"I've done my research. The man, the legends... they are real."

Will wanted to believe they were and of course he wanted to believe what Alice believed, but he barely believed in his own existence. If it meant spending time with her, he'd pretend to believe it. He was intrigued by Alice before he met her, but now his intrigue had swelled to unfathomable proportions and he wasn't about to crush his dreams, or hers. He figured it would be a fun adventure, whatever the outcome. Plus, he had nothing else to do that week.

"So... you want me to take you to Guffwell and summon a dead, mad-monk-vampire, so you can achieve immortality and have nice teeth?"

"I can live without the immortality."

Will laughed. He couldn't better her line, and as he had little else to contribute, decided they should get some more tea.

## Chapter Five

The return journey to Will's house was more silent than the outward one. Both had spilled their beans, and felt comfortable with the outcome. The Rover swept into the close and pulled up, facing the fence. Will allowed Alice the privilege of being closest to his front door.

Once inside, Alice darted into the bathroom. "Me first!"

Will turned on Ellie Broadbottom. He hadn't intended to, but it was time for the afternoon news. He thought it polite to turn up Ellie so it was obvious he wasn't listening in on Alice's bathroom break. He then turned Ellie down, and made some noise so that Alice knew he wasn't lurking by the bathroom door.

Alice washed her hands and turned on the bathroom heater. Will could hear the powerful fan whirring and vibrating through the thin walls. Alice returned, clean and freshened.

"Nice hand dryer."

"It's a heater."

"Yeah, but it dries."

"Good for hair, too."

Will darted into the bathroom. Four cups of tea had taken their toll. Alice looked around the lounge and Ellie told her it might be best to stay in tonight, as she could expect some wind. Alice wasn't the sort of girl to be put off by a wind problem. Still, she had no plans to expose herself tonight. Her eyes were drawn to the two bookcases that featured in opposite corners of the lounge. Both were stuffed full to overflowing with books, maps, leaflets and magazines. She turned to the one nearest the signed photo of her, recoiling at the thought she'd chosen that particular photo for such a nice fan. She would have to put that right.

Bookcase number one had maps, of varying scales, covering every part of Britain. There were road maps, geological maps, street maps, maps covered in plastic film, maps without covers. There were booklets of maps, atlases, guides, touristy maps. Alice supposed that Will would be a good person to have as a guide for any future visits to Britain. Below the map section, there were books. Paperback books mostly, from trashy novels to Shakespeare to expert guides on growing roses. There seemed no logical order, but Alice quickly deduced they were arranged by size. Below the paperbacks were hardbacks, and Alice recognized many of the names – Shakespeare, Dickens, Longfellow, Elliot, Hemingway, Twain, Conan Doyle, Carroll, Wells, Adams, Swift. There were many more, but she got the picture.

She ambled over to the second bookcase - a cheap, laminated chipboard unit with six deep, bulging shelves. Apart from a short-sighted meerkat in a green cardigan and a bottom shelf crammed with National Geographic magazines, it contained mostly hardback books. Some were fiction, but most were factual. Three shelves held volumes dedicated to the local area, notably its geography, history and legends. Another two shelves held reference works, including the biggest dictionary and thesaurus Alice had ever seen.

To the right of this bookcase, a home-made unit displayed a range of DVDs in alphabetical order across two shelves. Every episode of _Buffy_ and _Angel_ was there, as she expected, in smart book-like volumes. Also as expected, there were at least a dozen vampire movies, countless horrors and thrillers, and numerous comedies. It took Alice a while to figure out that every film she'd made, including those where she only appeared for a few minutes, was there in DVD form. Some of the DVDs were imported – Will had gone to a lot of trouble to complete her collection.

Will bounced back from the bathroom. "Some good films there, and some not so good."

"Dare I ask which are the not-so-good?"

Will pointed to a spine.

"I only worked on it for a day." Alice feigned pique.

"I know, and it was the best day's work you've done. I just didn't get it."

"Anything else you're unhappy with?"

Will pointed again. "Lacks conviction."

"I was on screen for about one minute!"

Will grinned. "Touchy, aren't we?"

Alice punched Will. Will punched Alice. Alice kicked his shin, and Will cried.

Alice tried a different tactic.

"Which is your favourite?"

Will pointed.

"Really? Why?"

"Nice hair."

Alice feigned exasperation.

"Seriously, do you want me to comment on all your movies?"

"Of course."

"Well, I can't really fault any of your performances."

Alice politely feigned disbelief.

"Seriously, I wouldn't buy every film you made unless I thought you were a brilliant actor!"

"Guess not." Alice was hoping for a more detailed appraisal.

"I found some of the films a little tedious, but I'm a cynical old fart who craves originality and stimulation." He added quickly "And none of the tedium was down to you." Will pulled a DVD out and explained in detail why it wasn't one of his favourite films, and made a number of critical comments that quite impressed Alice, who nevertheless disagreed vehemently.

After an hour or so during which Will heaped praise on most of Alice's performances, they both agreed she was a very good actor who probably should've won an Oscar or two, but the really big, important role had so far escaped her. Will said he would write a script that couldn't fail to impress the judges, when he could be arsed. Alice knew he was a fan, but she enjoyed being told why.

Will was getting hungry. "You got plans for tonight?"

Alice hadn't thought much about it. "Not really, but I need to get back to my hotel."

"Just thinking about dinner. You're welcome to stay, but I've not got a lot in." Will never had a lot in.

"We could go out. If you don't mind giving me a life to my hotel first, so I can change."

Will didn't mind at all, though he now had to worry about his own appearance.

"I should change. Don't say it."

Alice smirked. "I can wait."

"OK, feel free to watch TV or a film. This is a good one," Will plucked _Scary Movie_ from the shelf, "or there's two, three, four."

Alice was surprised. "Why this?"

"Funny. And Anna Faris. She's brilliant. Or try this." He picked out two more Anna Faris movies.

"You like her more than me?"

Will carefully considered his options, and settled on silence. But he shook his head and winked, just in case she took umbrage. Will bolted to the bathroom and ran a shower. Alice put Anna back on the shelf and turned up the volume on the TV, where a local news reporter was imparting a salutary tale of woe involving a superfluity of nuns who'd got into a scrape at a crab festival. She jumped back into the wrong end of the sofa and promptly sunk into a depression shaped like Will's backside.

Will took a speed shower and threw on an old blue towelling robe which was at least two sizes too small. Conscious of the effect this might have on an impressionable young lady, he shouted a warning. Alice lowered her eyelids as he hastily crossed the lounge and flew up the stairs.

"Nice legs."

"Thanks." Will was fortunate that they were one part of his body that didn't embarrass him. As a child, he'd been very active. Every day saw a new adventure, and he ran and cycled for fun. One of his favourite games was running to a location while his dad drove, to see if he could get there first. He never did of course, but he developed strong legs, heart and lungs. He remained strong, but the muscle tone in his upper body was suffering from a poor diet and sedentary lifestyle. He decided if his new-found friend were to be around long he'd take action to rectify that, if for no other reason than not to embarrass her in public.

He quickly changed into his smartest jeans and a proper shirt that had buttons and a collar. The cheap deodorant was substituted with a cheapish but inoffensive aftershave, out of a bottle he'd kept for 20 years, just in case.

"Do I need a tie?"

"Why, are you planning on strangling me?"

"Yes. Will a tie do it?"

"Use your hands. It's more personal."

Will was relieved. He didn't mind ties and even had a rack of them, although mustard and red Paisley Kippers had gone out of fashion just as he had started wearing them, around 1975. But mostly he didn't wear them because he hated doing up his top button, and most of his shirts were bought when his neck was an inch smaller. He found a jacket which would keep him warm and was new enough not to look shabby.

"Right. Ready."

Alice sent a text to Marvin telling him to take the night off. "Ready."

It was dark, so Alice boldly exited the house and stood still, breathing in the sweet air. Here on the outskirts of Newington close to a river estuary it was relatively fresh, though lacking the clean taste and smell of the sea air a few miles away in Saltymouth. Will opened the passenger door, and bowed respectfully as Alice slid gracefully into the seat. He waited until she was buckled in and carefully closed the door. He walked around the front of the car so she could see he wasn't armed with a garish kipper, even though it meant fighting off a withering buddleia trying to escape from his neighbour's garden. He opened his door and slid the ignition key into the illuminated lock. Will loved that illuminated cylinder surround, a pleasing orange glow guiding the key no matter how dark, or how tired and emotional one might be. He turned it part way, and by the time he'd strapped himself in the Rover was ready to go.

"Scenic route?"

"It's kinda dark."

"Show you where I grew up. Closer to Guffwell."

Alice's eyes lit up at the thought of being closer to the grail. "Sure, if it's not too far."

"Takes about fifteen minutes longer - say 40 instead of 25 to the hotel."

Alice looked into the plain white dial of her gold watch. The hands were pointing to the eight and the seven, which Will told her was a twenty to seven.

She thanked him. "These gold watches are nice, but it's so hard to tell the time when you're a simple southern gal like me."

"You could've looked at that." He pointed at a garbled orange display in the middle of the dash.

"It's all garbled."

Will agreed that it was, and pointed out it was a common fault on these cars. Alice suggested he buy a Range Rover like hers. Will asked for a loan but Alice refused. Will told her to stop complaining or she could walk, and Alice stopped complaining.

"Tell you what, I'll buy you a new car if you help me find what I want."

"Really? I couldn't. It's too much." Will was picturing a black Range Rover with heated leather seats and lots of fog lights, which would be handy in this part of the country. It would cope with these steep hills and the winter fog, snow and ice, very nicely thank you.

"OK."

"OK it's too much?"

"If you say so. I don't want to offend you."

"And if I promise not to be offended?"

Alice smiled and wrinkled her nose. The Rover was warm and the turbo-charged engine pulled it easily up the long steep hill that took it from the estate into the countryside. It wallowed in every corner, but with an eye for a good driving line and expert throttle control Will hustled the car quickly through the unlit lanes, a route he knew so well he said he could do it blindfolded; Alice declined a demonstration. The car flew along the twisty, hilly lanes, the like of which Alice had not encountered before. Will explained that it was safe to drive 'quickly' because you could see cars coming at night, as long as they had lights on.

"Do people drive without lights here?"

Will smirked. "Of course not, unless they're drunk."

"Oh well that's just fine and dandy." Alice was wondering what her manager would make of this, what with insurance costing so much already. She'd had to cajole her mom into pretending they were away together on a private holiday, just so she could embark on this quest.

As the Rover approached the first hamlet, Will slowed to a more sensible pace. He knew there might be people, dogs, tractors, quad bikes and even horses. Country people were just so road-unaware. Street lamps and antique porch lights lit up a succession of pretty cottages with brightly painted cob walls, intricate rustic woodwork and thick, dark thatched roofs. Even at night, Alice could appreciate their character.

"This is so gorgeous."

Will didn't reply. He was too busy looking out for country bumpkins who expected people like him to slow down. Once out into the dark, he recommenced commentary. Alice was not used to listening this much, because people usually listened to her. She had sought him out on that very premise - that he would listen to her, because she usually had so much to say. This was not really how she'd planned it.

"This is nice."

Will was in the dark. "Err, the dark?"

Alice sighed the contented sigh of a person with warmth in their heart and bones. Will was a little too well insulated.

"Listening. Learning."

"Oh well, I like to talk and teach, so you stalked the right person."

"Yes... yes, I did."

Will continued to pump Alice's heart and bones with anecdotes from his past. He had a story to relate to most of the buildings they passed, and if he didn't he would modify a suitable one to fit. He'd grown up here, learned to drive in these lanes, fallen down inside and outside all of the pubs, heard tales of smuggling and scandal, and inspired tales of smuggling and scandal. The Rover had faithfully tracked the river for four miles and now turned sharp left, crossing a long, low bridge with lots of old pillars of uneven length that barely held it above high water. Alice looked right as a town came into view, bright colours dancing past the Rover's windows. The bulk of a great steel object with towering masts of light loomed in the distance, then another appeared. A fishy odour permeated the Rover's cabin, and Will hit the 'air recycle' button on the dash,

"Fishmeal. The port was built largely on the export of granite and china clay, but now it mostly imports stuff. Like fishmeal."

The car swung sharply to the right and they climbed to a junction.

"Saltymouth." Will announced that they had arrived in the town where he spent most of his teenage years. "Home of a famous rock band."

Alice was intrigued. "Which one?"

Will told her, and she was impressed.

"I went to school with them. Of course, I was a few years ahead of them."

"How many?"

"About twenty."

Alice peered past the stone pillared entrance of the old school, a driveway that melted into the shadows of huge gnarly, spooky old conifers. Will told her to look at the football field where he had scored the greatest goal in the school's history - a volley from inside the centre circle. Alice didn't know what a volley was, or a centre circle, but she thought the feat impressive if highly improbable. In fact it was one of the few anecdotes Will had not needed to embellish. It was a source of immense frustration to him that he had never been able to play more football, partly because he couldn't see very far without glasses, and partly because the school concentrated on academic studies. He didn't feel the need to burden Alice with those frustrations tonight.

The Rover climbed further, steeper, past the old boarder's house, and as it levelled out Will swung right into a road lined with big trees and big houses. He slowed the car and his narrative, until they turned left onto a wide, well-lit road.

"Soon be home."

Alice figured they hadn't gone in circles, and guessed he meant the place he was born.

"Blackwater? So this is where you were born."

"Nope. Technically, I was born in Broadford, moved here after a few days."

Will proceeded in silent mode until he decided to point out a childhood home, just as they'd passed the entrance. He had no intention of letting her see it, and the Rover dove into a tree-lined hill. Will pointed out two more childhood homes, one halfway down and one at the bottom. The Rover slowed at the end of the hill and turned left into an island of multi-coloured lights and undulating, up-lit flower beds and palm trees. A stream had been channelled through the centre and strings of lights hung over it, reflections dancing over the glass-like surface as the sea breezes funnelled into the town centre through sturdy granite arches and gentled rocked the beads of light. Miniature waterfalls gushed with frothy white water, creating constantly changing spectrums of light.

Will drove round the island and Alice commented on the railway line and station that dominated the seafront. The colourful stream continued inland and Will followed it. Alice marvelled at the waterfowl lining the way - ducks and swans and geese, and the interloping sea birds. Taking a sharp right over a bridge, they continued to the far side of the park, along a main street with shops on only one side.

"This is kinda cool." Alice had not seen a town centre that had more parkland and wildlife than shops, and a beach you shared with trains.

"Used to be nice."

"It still is."

"Nah, trust me. Inundated with grockles in summer and mischievous kids in winter."

Alice laughed loudly, unsure if the kids were somehow evil or Will was just a boring old fart.

"You probably think I'm a boring old fart."

"Not at all."

The Rover swung left and right and sharp left up a narrow hill, with little variation in speed. Leaving the town behind, Will relaxed into anecdotal commentary, pointing at buildings that weren't there anymore. Alice was soon being educated in the horticultural industry that had introduced many exotic plants to the area, much of which washed over her as she couldn't tell a fuchsia from a freesia. She learned that perfume was produced here from hundreds of varieties of violets. She wasn't sure what a violet looked like, but she tried to imagine the scent of a small purple flower.

As they passed a small harbour she learned that people liked to play sports in the mud. She saw a castle where deer roamed in pastures dotted with majestic trees. Her head was so full of facts she could barely remember why she was here, or even why she had wanted to become rich and famous, when there were so many other things to learn about. As they drove into Broadford the narrative ceased, as they passed industrial estates and village-sized superstores, and car showrooms representing every luxury car manufacturer she knew, as well as a few she didn't. This was a very different landscape, one many Americans might be more familiar with.

Alice already missed the lanes and cottages, and she knew she'd forget the facts and return to a job she loved immensely and which loved her back, but she wouldn't forget the listening.

## Chapter Six

The red Rover turned into a brightly lit courtyard surrounded on three sides by high, red brick walls, and stopped outside the shiny new glass and steel entrance to a large, red brick building that Will supposed was, in part, of the Victorian era. Alice gestured to the doorman, who was about to shoo them away but stopped and pointed at a parking space in an unlit corner of the yard. Will duly obliged. The pair alighted and walked single file into the glass porch, Will very deliberately remaining two steps behind Alice.

"Good evening, Miss Cross." The tall doorman with a maroon coat tipped a grey top hat in her direction as she stepped confidently across the threshold.

"Hi."

Will, who was admiring a white alabaster lion, broke step and tripped over a cast iron umbrella stand. "Err, evening."

"Sir." The tall gentleman touched the brim of his hat and watched Will follow Alice into Reception. He noticed the scruffy beige leather boots and ill-fitting jeans, and stifled a tut.

Alice had collected something from Reception and was waiting by the lift. She smiled and gestured to the open doors. Will invited her to enter with a sweep of his right arm and duly stepped inside, shuffling behind her. The lift glided silently upwards to the sixth and top floor, where Will followed Alice to a door at the end of the corridor.

"Excuse the mess." She waved a card and pushed open the heavy, dark wooden door.

Will looked around the immaculate room. A plush, uncluttered expanse of carpet that matched the blue of Alice's eyes covered the central three-quarters, exposing dark wooden floorboards around the edge of the room. Mushroom-coloured walls were decorated with tasteful landscapes of the local area and portraits of local Victorian dignitaries, and every few feet a pair of shaded wall lights cast a soft mellow light both upwards and downwards. The ceiling was white and bordered by intricate plaster mouldings of leaves and flowers. There were three armchairs and at one end of the room a king-sized bed stood out, flanked by matching oak cabinets topped with brass lamps shaded with rich cream linen. The bed, like the carpet and cabinets, was uncluttered. Freshly plumped pillows and a quilt wearing dark maroon silk sat on top of plain, cream silk sheets stretched taut across the foot-deep mattress. Will looked around in vain for something tatty or out of place.

Alice swing open a door and pulled a light switch. Inside were shelves, rails and a chest of drawers. There were two pairs of boots and two pairs of sneakers on the bottom shelf, a couple of cases on the next, and the top shelf was empty. A hanging rail housed tops, jackets, coats, and dresses. Some were freshly wrapped in clear plastic. Alice pulled out a drawer containing uniformly folded tee shirts and woollens, and carefully placed her gold watch on top of a pink cashmere cardigan.

Will was impressed. "Looks like your maid's been busy."

"Nah, I just like to be organized."

"I'm looking for a housekeeper."

"My abilities don't stretch that far.

"You saying I'm a slob?

"You're a slob."

Will made as if to unfold a tee shirt and Alice made a fist. Will backed away. He returned to the main room and looked for a chair that wouldn't crumple too much if he sat on it. He settled on a red velour chesterfield that looked pretty sturdy and resilient.

"Don't you go crumpling my chair." Alice walked to another door and pulled another light. A crystal cave of shiny metal, glass and polished stone was revealed to be the bathroom. "Won't be long."

The door closed and Will heard a powerful shower of water, the sounds rising and falling as Alice danced under the warm spray. He looked round the room, and tucked under a cushion he found a magazine with a photo of a trim, pretty blond girl on the cover. She was wearing something he considered scanty and presumed to be fashionable, and lots of make-up. He flicked through the heavy gloss pages and looked at the young girl, whom he supposed to be somewhere between 17 and 30, and who bore more than a passing resemblance to Alice. Will resisted the temptation to ogle, replaced the magazine, and decided to twiddle his thumbs.

Seven minutes later Alice emerged from a womb of steam and light, an enormous, fluffy white robe draped round her body, covering all but her shapely lower legs and dainty feet. A white fluffy towel was neatly wrapped round her head, and Will wondered how girls always knew how to fold towels round their heads. She sat on the bed next to the Chesterfield and Will noted how small an indentation she made. The robe had parted to expose the glowing pink flesh of her inner thighs. He felt extremely uncomfortable, but endorsed Alice's trust by staring her straight in the eye.

"I booked us a table here." She returned the stare.

"Fine, yes. Looks expensive."

"You'll earn it."

A lesser man may have allowed his eyes and thoughts to drift. Alice held her gaze, and Will smiled at her with his best platonic expression.

"I will do all I can to help you."

Alice grinned and patted him on the knee. Satisfied with his ability to keep his eyes and mind on the job, she bounced off the bed and returned to the dressing room, grabbing a big black hair dryer from a drawer. Will exhaled and patted himself on the back, before relaxing into the generous chair and shutting his eyes. He listened to Alice humming along to the sound of hot air, wondering how and when he'd died and when God would discover he'd been sent to the wrong place. Somewhere there must be a horned gentleman seething at the administrative error, but he'd make the most of his time here and who knows, he might even redeem himself and be allowed to stay.

He opened his eyes and was pleased to see he hadn't been reclaimed. It was quiet now. The door was closed and he wondered what Alice was going to wear to dinner. Whatever it was, it would make him look even more of a slob. The door swung open and Alice emerged. Her hair was golden and shimmered in the diffused light, framing two enormous sapphires set in delicate, black velvet stars. Her sensual lips and radiant cheeks emanated health and warmth. With virtually no chemical enhancement, her face was a perfect picture of pure natural beauty that no amount of photo-shopping could ever recreate. Will was gawping, but Alice didn't mind. Then he noticed her skinny blue jeans and white tee, and his gawp turned into admiration.

"Let's go." Alice led the way back down to the ground floor. A smartly dressed gentleman was waiting for them and ushered the pair into a secluded section of the dining room, which was in fact four large rooms converted into one, separated by low walls and patterned glass screens. They shared this section with one elderly couple, and as it was raised slightly they were able to peek over the screens to view the other tables. They were all full, but only indistinct, politely muted conversations interrupted the serenity of this reserved section.

Sipping slowly at a complimentary glass of white wine, the couple discussed the menu. Will decided to play it safe and ordered a cold meat salad, while Alice ordered a mixed seafood salad.

"So, did we actually pass the chapel?" Alice was referring to the promised drive-past of Guffwell.

"We came close-ish. It's the back end of Blackwater, and you can't drive to it. It's a ten minute walk whichever way you go, and you'll need boots."

"Boots?"

"Walking boots. Bit like these." He stuck out a foot.

Oh, won't sneakers do?"

"Hmmm not really, might be wet, and it's a bit rough."

"Better go shopping then." Alice's eyes widened.

Will looked at his scruffy boots and Alice read his thoughts perfectly, again.

"We can get you some new ones, if you think they're not suitable."

Will smiled and wondered how one so young had become so well-mannered and diplomatic.

"They're suitable, bit worn though." He didn't want Alice to think she needed to be diplomatic.

Alice smiled and acknowledged the wink Will aimed at her.

"How much of the chapel and the well will we see?"

"Not a lot, I'm afraid."

"Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you." Alice was in the mood for fun.

"You're really serious about this?" Will may have written a book about it, but only because he was bored. He had been interested in the local legends since a young boy, and had often visited the Chapel. The well down which the vampire monk Robert Masterton had supposedly hidden the evidence of his gory crimes, before being entombed in it himself, had long since been hidden. It was probably collapsed and buried under seven centuries of dirt and plant growth. Nobody knew for sure where it was, and it would be difficult to dig the ruins without being discovered.

His limited research – there were few reliable records dating from the thirteenth century in a rural location like Guffwell – suggested that Masterton had been outwitted by one of his potential victims, a burly sailor by the name of John Prattle who was crossing the moors one night and had accepted the monk's invitation to shelter from a storm - but only because he believed the monk to be hiding a great treasure. On seeing the monk bent over the well, he had pushed him in and thrown a burning torch after him. The monk's filthy habit was his undoing, for it was infused with alcohol and oils which caused it to burn quickly. What Prattle didn't know was that the monk's most valuable treasure was a lucky amulet he kept on a cord round his neck. The amulet was said to originate from Sumer, and whoever should be in possession of it would be protected from all harm. The Sumerians had not reckoned on a vampire taking possession, and clearly it didn't bring him much luck.

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, as Will pointed out in his book. In fact, it was the first line. It didn't stop him embellishing the amulet story, and inventing a few new ones of his own. The one Alice was interested in related to the effect a burning vampire might have on a lucky charm. Will, who watched too much television for anybody's good, claimed that the amulet had absorbed Masterton's powers and that they could be transferred to the next owner. His explanation was woolly, as he found research boring and thought that most of it was gibberish anyway. Vampires didn't exist, so he thought he may as well invent his own theories as to what they were capable of.

Alice was perhaps the only person who had been taken in by his story, and he felt a little guilty. But if she believed it, and it made her happy, then he could see no harm in playing along. _It's not as if I'm misleading her_ , he thought. He felt sorry for her, as he knew she wasn't happy with her teeth. It must be difficult for a Hollywood star when your teeth are anything but pearly white and straight. He had suffered from years of problem teeth himself, and he knew the psychological trauma was every bit as debilitating as the physical pain. But to imagine you could somehow inherit good teeth from a vampire? It sounded so ridiculous, and he didn't know how long he could keep his opinions from Alice. But it gave him an idea for a sequel.

Alice was playing with a radish. Will had long since finished his salad and was still hungry. He was also craving a coffee and a cigarette – he hadn't smoked since Alice had turned up on his doorstep. He'd settle for a pint of ale, but he had to drive home. He was in a quandary. Alice got bored of chasing the radish and killed it with a deft blow from her fork. She spotted Will fidgeting.

"You ok?"

"I'm in a quandary."

"Huh?"

"I could do with a smoke, or a beer, but I can't have either here."

"You can have a beer."

"Gotta drive home."

"Don't gotta."

"Huh?"

"Stay here."

Will was past the stage of playing the 'I've no money so I'd have to rely on you and I'm not sure if my pride will allow it' game.

"Hmm."

"I booked a room next to mine, in case any friends or family showed up. They didn't, so you may as well use it."

"Hmmmm." Will wasn't quite sure how to take that, but decided a beer would clarify things.

"I'd feel safer if you were here." Alice looked coy.

"Safer for you, or safer for me?"

"You, of course."

Will decided two beers would be needed, or possibly six.

"Do you drink?"

"Not really, but I'll join you if you're worried about drinking alone in a bar."

Will was worried about precisely that; he didn't want people to think he was friendless, even if he was.

"I am."

"Come on, pops." Alice grabbed his arm and walked him to the bar. She found a seat that faced a wall, and told him to order what he wanted and get a cold bottled lager for her, and to charge it to her account. Will returned with a pint and a bottle with a glass, as she hadn't specified how she wanted to drink it.

"I have to pour my own?"

"You didn't specify, you just said a bottle." Will poured the ice cold lager for her.

"Don't get me drunk."

"No chance, I've seen the future."

Alice laughed into her lager, spraying fizzing bubbles over the table and her top.

"Jeez, I can't take you anywhere." Will scalded her as he mopped the table with a beer mat.

"Oh _you_ can take me anywhere you want." She _wrinked_ , as Will now decided her wink-come-nose-wrinkle was to be called.

Will blushed, as Alice intended. He downed half a pint and looked around. He spotted something he could beat Alice at.

"You play pool?"

"Only when I'm drunk."

"Get drunk."

"Might do. You any good?"

"Pretty good." Will fed her a teaser, "I'm sure I can thrash you."

"Before or after the pool?"

"You're so rude."

"You're the one offering to thrash me."

A tall athletic gentleman in a dinner jacket appeared, as if from nowhere.

"Hello Alice, how's your father?"

Will wanted to slide under the table but he felt sure he was too big and it was probably too late.

"Hey, Pete. He's good. Howya doing?"

"I'm great. Gotta dash, some charity do. Catch ya later." He turned to Will. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything, buddy."

"Umm no - no, not at all." Will's face resembled a radish.

Alice waved Pete off. "Your face, it's the colour of that radish I killed!" She struggled to stop her hysteria escalating into howling.

"I think we should discuss your plans." Will decided the boring route was safer.

"Boring!"

"You're embarrassing me." He grinned, for he clearly enjoyed it in some perverse way.

"Come on pops, loosen up."

"As you see me as some sort of father figure, I'm telling you to behave."

"Or what? You'll spank me?"

Will vividly imagined the scenario, and had to forcibly snap out of the trance. He was faltering, and he knew he had to swing this round.

"No, I'll ground you."

"How?"

"I'll tie you to your bed." _Shit, that wasn't meant to come out._

Alice was howling. Will went for another beer. He took his time, chatting to every person over 40 he could find at the bar. He returned to find Alice texting.

"Be right with you."

"No rush."

"O-kkkk," she tucked the phone in her back pocket. "You're funny. I wish I had more friends like you."

"You mean old?" Will knew it was a loaded question but he figured it was the safest card to play.

"Yeah. Young guys... they just want one thing, ya know?"

Will could breathe again. He had temporarily hit an icy patch and was swerving out of control, but the tyres were gripping now.

"Well you know that's not me. I want two things."

"Oh?"

"Your body and your money."

Alice howled. "Hey, hands off my money."

Will smiled and downed a celebratory half-pint. He wished Alice was ten years older, if only because it wouldn't look quite so odd to onlookers. But she clearly had her head screwed on very firmly, and it was her head he really found attractive.

"You know what I like best about you?"

Alice didn't.

Will leaned forward and rested a hand on her head.

"My hair?"

"Under that."

Alice could've gone for scalp and skull, but decided to accept the compliment graciously. As he removed his hand, she grasped it in hers and held it tight for a second.

"Thanks, Will."

Will thought it was the first time he'd heard her say his name, and it sounded better than he'd ever heard it before.

"Thank _you_."

"For what?"

"Being you, with me."

"I am me with you, it's weird, just having met you an' all."

They both agreed it was weird, but in a good way. Will knew she wasn't after his money because he didn't have any, and Alice knew he wasn't after her fame because he didn't worship it like so many of her friends. They ordered more beer and retired to her room.

## Chapter Seven

Will lay on Alice's bed, and Alice was next to him, both with two plump pillows supporting their tired bodies. They had been drinking for an hour, and were very happy. They'd discussed films, music, religion, vampires, food and fashion. The fashion discussion was the longest, but basically consisted of Alice telling Will why she loved clothes. Will listened intently, mainly because he said he was too tired to talk. Really, he was too tired to listen.

"You look tired."

"Yeah, long day. Time for bed I think."

Alice bounced off the bed and skipped to the dressing room. She returned with a key card.

"Room 66 - your age."

"I feel it."

"Now, you're right next door," Alice pointed to a wall, "So you'll be quite safe."

Will agreed that he would be.

"Do you need a toothbrush?"

"Strangely, I didn't bring one."

Alice skipped back to the dressing room and returned with a new toothbrush in its wrapper, and a new tube of toothpaste in a box.

"Aren't _you_ Little Miss Prepared."

"That's me."

Alice showed Will to the door and watched in amusement as he failed to work the electronic lock on door 66.

"Here." Alice opened the door and ushered him in. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"No, thanks." Will was too drunk to risk being _risqué._

"Ok, see ya at breakfast - about eight?"

"You best wake me."

Alice decided it would be best if she woke him, and took the key card so she didn't have to bang on his door.

"Night, sweet dreams."

"You too."

Alice gave him a peck on the cheek to ensure he would have sweet dreams, and Will thanked her again. He headed for the bathroom and Alice skipped back to her room.

Will eventually managed to extricate the toothbrush from its wrapper, and dutifully brushed his remaining teeth, half of which were crowned or poorly filled. The thought crossed his mind that it should be him who took possession of the magic tooth amulet, as he needed it more than Alice. He might have to fight her for it, but he was sure he'd lose. _So much for that idea_. Maybe she'd fly him to L.A. and get her personal dentist to sort him out, for surely all actors must have one. He fell out of his clothes and collapsed on the bed. The room was warm, and he could happily have stayed where he fell. The thought of Alice opening the door in the morning and finding him lying there in his underpants was bothering him, and he somehow summoned the strength and co-ordination to roll the duvet from underneath his bulk so it was on top of him. He crawled onto his side and tucked an arm under a sumptuous pillow, pulling it under his head. In three minutes he was sound asleep, and dreaming about Alice.

He figured if he kept dreaming she wouldn't go away, as she surely would one day. Everyone good that had come into his life had gone away at some point, and his preventative cure for the malady was to stop people coming into his life. Alice had slipped through the barriers, under the barbed wire and over the crocodile moat, and he was quite angry at himself for not employing a portcullis and boiling oil. Once she had the amulet, she'd go home to her glamourous and exciting friends and forget all about him.

Shit, getting depressed. Need to switch dreams.

Will dreamt of a gorgeous blond woman with the warmest smile and cutest bottom he could imagine. She had the biggest blue eyes, and they exerted a magnetic attraction that all humans were powerless to resist. Sensuality oozed from every pore of her spotless skin, and she had the most fascinating aura of any human being he knew. He was standing on a rock by a perfect beach in a perfect turquoise sea, and she was calling him to join her on the perfect white sand. He was sure she had a pint of cold beer, which she'd kept cold just for him to enjoy, no doubt while she teased his hair and complimented him on his manliness.

"Will, Will."

He gazed adoringly at her.

"Will, Will."

He continued to gaze adoringly.

"Will, Will, wake up."

Wake up? He was awake, gazing adoringly at her beautiful face. Why was she telling him to wake up? Will was in pain now because somehow she had hurt him. _Why are you hurting me?_ Suddenly Will was drowning, unable to breathe. The waves were sucking him under and he couldn't swim. His arms were numb and he was going to drown.

"WAKE UP!"

"I'm drowning."

"Too right you will, Will."

"Why ..? Why...?"

"Because it's breakfast time, you lazy slob!"

Will woke just in time to see Alice standing over him with a second glass of water. She pretended she didn't see his eyes open, or at least that was her excuse for pouring it over his face. That was two glasses of icy water, and Will was indeed spluttering a bit. Alice thought she might have over-done it, but it didn't stop her howling with laughter.

"Jesus, what time is it? I only just got to sleep."

"It's eight AM. You've slept for eight hours."

"Huh." Will was awake but far from conscious, in the sense most people associate with that word. His was a slimmed-down version of consciousness, an energy-saving form.

"But I was dreaming."

"Evidently."

"It was you."

"Huh?"

"The woman, it was you."

"If you say so, Will." Alice was feeling a little semi-conscious herself now. "Are you having breakfast with me?"

"Breakfast."

"Gee, this is like waking the dead. Harder, probably."

"I'm dead? I knew it!" _Satan has evidently got the right paperwork now._

"You want me to get another glass of water?"

Will suddenly felt his arm again, and swam hurriedly to the surface.

"I'm up."

"Evidently."

Will had let the duvet slide off. _Shit._ Alice turned and walked away, stifling a fit of giggles.

"Ten minutes. No more."

Will thought he might make it down in ten minutes, if he stopped thinking about that woman. _Shit._ This was all going a bit Pete Tong. _Think of dirty dishes._ He got down sufficiently to get up, and headed for the bathroom. Leaning at an angle of 45 degrees, he felt a great sense of relief. He brushed his teeth and noticed some sensations in his mouth, and decided he was sufficiently conscious to join Alice for breakfast as long as she didn't expect him to be coherent, let alone interesting or witty. It was _way_ too early for that. But he could eat - he could do that in his sleep.

Will picked up his clothes, which had magically transported themselves from a crumpled heap on the floor to a neatly folded pile on a chair. _Satan's work,_ he told himself. He placed the pile on the bed and fell next to it, then dragged and pulled and groaned until he bore some resemblance to a dressed person. He staggered to the door and fell through the opening, which was some feat because he had to pull it towards him first.

Alice was stood in the hall with her arms and legs crossed, and her face wore a similar expression. He deduced she was probably cross. "Are you crossed?"

"Huh?"

"Umm, cross? I mean cross. Not Cross, I know you're Cross."

Alice punched his arm in a playful way. Will didn't feel it.

"Come on big Willy, they're waiting for you."

Steve hadn't even noticed the crude pun. "Who?"

"Everybody."

"It's only ..." Will looked at his watch, which wasn't there. He didn't realise it wasn't there, and stared at his wrist for a few seconds hoping it would come into focus.

"It's eight-thirty and we're the last for breakfast."

They were walking now. Alice was walking forwards, but Will was walking diagonally and was thankful the corridors were not wider, because it would have been a very long walk to breakfast.

"I thought people came to hotels to relax and enjoy themselves."

"Sleeping all day is not enjoying yourself."

Will couldn't summon the coherence to answer, but he knew the day started when you woke up, and he would never choose to wake up at eight o'clock. He knew Alice was cross and he felt bad about that, but he wished she'd go away and leave him alone so he could be grumpy in peace.

Three bacon sandwiches and two glasses of fresh orange juice later, Will had achieved 80% consciousness. This was quite a feat, and he felt pleased. He needed a coffee and a cigarette to come close to full consciousness, and he wondered if he could evade Alice and the doorman long enough to sneak one. He decided to make an excuse.

"I need to fetch something from the car."

"You're going for a smoke."

"Err, no.... yes." Why even bother to try outwitting Alice. She'd reached 100% hours ago, probably before she woke up. She was _that_ prepared.

"I'll wait in my room. Do you remember where that is?"

Will was clearly being put in his place, and he knew where that place was. He wondered if he'd been a little too friendly last night, and he decided he needed to watch his step today. He casually lifted a cup of coffee and hoped nobody would mind if he sneaked it outside. Heading for the entrance lobby he was relieved to see it unmanned. _No problem._ He could see open air and skipped forwards, striking his leg against the cast iron umbrella stand and launching both cup and coffee out of the door. He turned to see Alice with her arms crossed, tutting. With a shake of the head she turned and grinned, thinking how easy it would be to have fun this morning.

Luckily for Will the cup landed in a bed of pansies, and they were busy being pansies so didn't mind too much. He sneaked back into the dining room and procured more coffee, before negotiating the lobby for a second time. He reached the car without further incident and fell in. He sat sideways with the door open and breathed in the unadulterated morning air – he had to agree, morning air was the best. He'd spent many years working nights and early mornings, every hour on the clock, so he knew that at night the air fairies came out with their little wands and brushes, and magically cleaned away the detritus of modern living that air inevitably collects during the day.

He rolled a liquorice cigarette and lit it, breathing in a heady mixture of fairy air and nicotine. The effect was immediate, and was akin to having air fairies sucking detritus out of your head. He loved the buzz a day between cigarettes could deliver, and felt it was well worth the abstinence. He wouldn't be able to stand for a few minutes, but he'd always thought standing was overrated. He closed his eyes. Suddenly he was aware of a figure looming over him.

"Will?"

"Err, yes?"

"Hi, Marvin. Alice's driver."

"Oh, hi, nice to meet you."

"How's your head?"

"Much better, thanks. Thanks for that, the other night."

"No sweat. Listen, I just had a word with Alice..." Will knew it, she'd got fed up with him already and had sent her lackey to shoo him away, probably with threats of violence and lawsuits.

"Ohh..."

"She's sending me back to London, so I'm leaving her in your capable hands."

"Ohh..." Will was pleased he wasn't being left again, but now it dawned on him he'd have to watch over Alice. He hoped he could handle the responsibility, but could see lots of potential problems.

"Big responsibility buddy, sure you can handle it?"

"Sure, no problem."

"OK, she's all yours. See ya!"

"Bye!"

Will watched as Marvin strode purposefully towards a shiny black Range Rover with leather seats. "Could've left THAT here," he muttered under his breath. He wanted another cigarette, but visions of Alice sitting in a chair with crossed legs, drumming her fingers, flashed through his mind. He staggered to his feet, shut the door and aimed the key fob at the Rover, which dutifully locked itself and flashed a friendly orange confirmation. Returning to the lobby he carefully stepped around the umbrella stand, glaring at the object which he knew was just pretending to be inanimate.

Standing outside room 67 he straightened his shirt before knocking. The door opened and Alice beckoned him in.

"Awake yet?"

"Just about."

"I've sent Marvin back to London."

"I know."

"I'm all yours now."

"OK, what are my duties?"

"Attending to my every need." She wrinked. "Are you up for it?"

Will considered his answer carefully. "Always."

Alice grinned. "So you wanna go shopping?"

"Boots?"

"Boots, yes. Anything else you need?"

"I got you, what more do I need?"

"You're a man of simple needs."

"I'm a simple man."

"I'm a simple girl."

"Yes. I mean no. I mean you're simply all a simple man of simple needs, needs - simply put."

"What language are you speaking?"

"Willish."

"You'll have to teach me." Alice wrinked again.

"I'll teach you all I know."

"Ohh, not sure I'm ready for that! I'm just a simple southern gal." Alice hoped Will would teach her everything he knew because, despite his appearance, she figured he knew quite a lot.

"You're anything but simple. I'd say you could teach me a few things."

"Play your cards right..." She was staring not wrinking, keen to take in the vision of confuddlement and embarrassment that was Will's face.

Will pre-warmed his lips while his brain attempted to compute the barrage of conflicting signals Alice was firing at him. After eight seconds his brain crashed. While he was waiting for it to reboot, he decided to entertain her with his full repertoire of pre-recorded smiles and frowns, in the hope that one of them would satisfy her strange womanly demands. Alice watched intently, wondering why Will was bombarding her with so many mixed signals. Eventually she found one she liked, and muttered approval.

"Good, well let's go shopping."

"Yippee."

"You're excited by shopping? Cool."

Will was excited to get away with his balls still attached. "I love shopping."

"You wanna take a shower?"

"I guess I do." Will had taken one quite recently, but this was a special occasion.

"OK, see you in ten?"

"Fifteen."

"OK."

Will wished he'd gone for twenty first, as he could have bargained down to seventeen. He hated rushing showers, and didn't have a hair dryer.

"Can I borrow your hair dryer?"

Alice's eyes swung upwards. "For what?"

"For drying my hairy bits."

Alice's eyes disappeared somewhere under her eyebrows.

"On my head."

"You're such a woman - that fuzz will be dry before you finish getting dressed."

"I don't like having a cold head." It was true, and if hair didn't need washing Will would've let his grow very long. He found hair washing slightly less bearable than a cold head, and he had hats, so he had it cut very short. It also disguised the few grey hairs that were beginning to surface round the sides of his temple.

"Here." Alice handed over a hair dryer. "Don't break it."

"How could I break it?"

"Well I'm not gonna tell you that, am I?"

Will smiled, Alice swrinked. A semi-wrink, as if she tried to wink but couldn't decide with which eye, and just ended up with a wrinkled nose. Or maybe she was allergic to something, like blabbering idiots. Will hurried off to his room, called for Alice to open the door, and headed for the shower. Fourteen and a half minutes later, he knocked on Alice's door.

"Better?"

"Yes, thanks." Will handed over a perfectly functional hair dryer. "Sorry about the hair dryer."

"WHAT?"

Will grinned. _Got you._ Alice punched his left triceps very hard. Had she thought he'd not been joking, it would have been very much harder.

Will was in pain, not for the first time since meeting Alice. "Owwww." Then under his breath " _Biatch."_

"What did you call me?"

"Nothing. I said _ow_."

"You said _biatch_."

"Did that come out? Shit. I suffer from loose vowel movements. I meant _Bitch_."

"Asshole."

Will was sure Alice had far more insults in her portfolio than he did, so he accepted his asshole status.

"Let's go shopping!" Alice took Will by the arm and led him away. Will accepted his fate with little dignity.

Will warmed the Rover's heart and fired her up. It was misty inside, so he switched the air conditioning on and turned the fan to setting three. Four would've been better, but the fan was already complaining noisily on three. He had to wait now.

"Sounds sick." Alice had never heard such a noise from a car - or anything else, come to think of it.

Will muttered in agreement and revved the old engine, hoping to blow away some of the bluey-grey cloud that was building up behind the car and threatening to engulf the hotel. The cloud grew bigger and took on an ominous shade of black. The old engine needed a good, hard run to clear some of the soot from the system.

"It just needs a good thrashing."

"What is it with you and thrashing?" Alice feigned repulsion. "Pervert."

Will couldn't fault her diagnosis. "I'm a pervert."

Will exited the hotel courtyard and pointed the Rover toward the city centre. Alice pulled the Wayfarers from her bag and shaded up. She rummaged in the bag again, and then pulled open the glove box. She rummaged more, not that there was much to rummage through.

"Where's my book?"

"Your book?"

"Your book."

"My book?"

"My book."

"My book or your book?" Will didn't know this game, but he humoured her.

"My book, your book."

Will was unsure of the correct retort. "Err, your book, my book?"

"Yes."

_Phew._ He was still in the game.

"This isn't a game."

"Oh."

"My copy of your book is missing."

"Missing? Book? My? Your?" Will knew he wasn't making sense, but he had no sense of what it was he was trying to make sense of.

"Yes." Alice rummaged through the glove box again.

Clearly he had made sense of it, but he still didn't know what _it_ was.

Alice explained. "I left my book – the one you wrote, the reason I'm here – in the glove compartment. I know I did."

"And it's not there?"

Alice was scowling. Will didn't see it because he was trying to keep his eyes on the road, which was flanked by hoards of shoppers ready to test his reactions, but he felt the scowl boring into the side of his head, a scowl powerful enough to burn through the dark glasses. He was sure Alice wouldn't make a mistake, from what he already knew about her.

"Sure you're not mistaken?"

His head burned. Alice's eyes were about to turn him into a pillar of salt. He desperately sought out a suicidal shopper to focus on. Fortunately they were almost at the car park, and he successfully evaded her stare until he'd safely pulled the Rover onto the entrance ramp. He drove round and round and round, climbing up to the top storey. As the car emerged into the daylight he glanced at Alice, who was still scowling.

Will pulled into a space and turned off the engine. He faced his opponent. "Right, let's get this straight. You left a book in the glove compartment and it's not there now."

Alice's scowl intensified.

"Have you looked under your seat?

Alice hadn't thought of that. "Yes of course I've looked under my seat." She looked again just to prove the point, and was semi-relieved to find nothing.

Will tried to think logically.

"Let's look at this logically. You left the book in the car last night, I locked the car, and it was locked until around nine this morning. I unlocked it, had a fag, and then locked it again." Will was quite sure he had not left the book unguarded, not that he could see why anybody would steal it.

"You sure you locked it?"

"Of course... Err..." Will couldn't remember if he'd locked it, but he knew he could remember not unlocking it that morning. He decided to withhold that information.

"Somebody has stolen my book." Alice was convinced, and she could see lots of reasons why.

"Why?"

"Because it contains valuable information."

Will could not stifle his laugh. He'd written it, so he knew there was little value to any of the information, but now might not be a good time to tell Alice. "Sorry, nervous laugh. Look, all the information in that book is in my head, so don't worry."

"Not all."

"Huh?"

"I made notes. I researched ancient civilizations, and mythologies, and amulets, and... and... vampires, and stuff."

"And you didn't think to write your notes on a computer?"

"OK, so I'm not perfect like you." There wasn't a hint of sarcasm.

"I'm not perfect."

"Compared to me, you are. I'm by no means perfect."

"I think you are."

Alice appreciated the comment and smiled weakly. "I'm not as perfect as I make out. I make mistakes, I fuck things up, I hate the way I look. I'm just good at hiding it. It's called acting."

Will's illusions were in no way shattered, and he put his arms round her. Alice wiped a solitary tear from her perfect cheek.

"I guess I shattered your illusions."

"Yes, you have."

Alice punched Will.

## Chapter Eight

Alice was staring at Will, who was staring back at her. She had a frothy milk moustache.

"Enjoying your coffee?"

"Yes thanks." She smiled and some froth made a break for her cheeks.

Will was highly amused, but in her vulnerable state he needed to be more responsible. "Nice moustache."

"How long?" Alice frowned.

"About three inches." Will grinned, knowing it wasn't the answer she wanted.

"Tell me."

"About three minutes."

"Bastard."

Will smiled the smile of a grinning bastard, and eventually passed her a napkin.

"Is it all gone?"

Will took a clean napkin and leant forward, gently wiping Alice's moustache away. When he was satisfied, he leaned back and licked the napkin. "Just one more bit there....." He waved the spit-covered paper at her face.

"Don't you dare." She grinned

Will grinned back. She smiled. It was good to see her smile properly again, even if she had suffered only been a momentary loss of dignity - which he just saw as normal. Her smile stretched wide, and at each end of it little upright dimples enhanced her soft cheeks. The smile that everybody wanted to see was there, and just for him. More than ever, he wanted to be her friend and he made a silent vow that he would take the best possible care of her, and her smile. If a psychopathic fan lunged at her with a gun or a knife, he would step in front of her. He valued her life above his own, because he figured in the grand scheme of things she would do a lot more good for mankind than he ever would. He figured there was no point loving someone if you weren't prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice.

"Do you love me?"

Will was taken aback. "Don't be wet."

"I think you do."

Will was beginning to wonder if Alice had a hotline to his brain. She seemed to know what he was thinking before he did. Maybe she was _controlling_ his thoughts. He looked for clues in her eyes, but they were just blue and perfect. _But that might be part of the mind control._

"Let's say, if had a daughter, I'd want her to be exactly like you."

"Aww, pops. You're sweet. To be honest, I thought you fancied me, but now that would be sooo wrong. Haha."

"I'm not a pervert." Will lied, unconvincingly.

"Yes you are."

Will smiled the smile of a defeated and outmanoeuvred smiling puppy. "Let's go shopping."

"Yippee! What you gonna buy me?"

"A brain."

"I gotta brain."

"Yeah, but it's not normal."

"How so?"

"It's too darn clever by half. By three-quarters. No, nine tenths."

Alice agreed, and they set off to find a new brain. The brain shop had closed due to lack of patronage, so they settled for a pair of walking boots each. Alice insisted on wearing them in, and passed the assistant her battered designer pair to pack in the new box. The assistant guessed they cost more than he earned in a fortnight, and that she was careless to have abused them.

"Let's go walking."

"I need food."

"It's eleven-thirty."

"I've been up since eight."

Alice promised to buy him a burger and he promised to take her to a muddy hole in some creepy woods to look for a serial killer. Will had to pay for the burger and her milkshake because she'd run out of cash, so Alice promised to buy him a new car; Will thought that was a good deal. By two in the afternoon they'd exhausted the shopping possibilities of Broadford, and Will couldn't put off the inevitable. They returned to the roof-top car park. Alice walked to the edge and took in the view.

"There are lots of churches." She was right.

"You're right. Lots of churches, a cathedral, catacombs, Roman ruins."

"I saw the cathedral." She was right again. They had walked through the grounds, and Will had pointed it out. She'd thanked him, as she might otherwise have missed it.

"What are catacombs? Some sort of burial chamber?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Cool! Dark and creepy, I bet."

"You like dark and creepy?

"I like you."

Will punched Alice, and she punched him back, harder.

"I could show you the Roman sewers."

"Aww Will, you're so romantic."

Will agreed that he was. "They're actually very interesting."

"Full of shit."

"No, it's true."

"The sewers, not you. Well, maybe you."

"Don't be daft, there are no Romans here now."

"Well then, it's a date. How far is Guffwell?"

"About twelve miles."

"So we can get there before dark?" It was getting dark around four-thirty now, and the chapel was in the middle of a wood in the middle of nowhere, and it was dark enough in daytime.

"It's a short trek, on foot. Boots OK?"

"Fine."

They headed for the car. Will slumped in the seat and growled. He got out and snatched the flyer from the windscreen, throwing it in Alice's direction. She unfolded it and read it to herself as Will manoeuvred.

"Have fun, get fit, make friends, feel safe. Come to Broadford's only licensed Krav Maga class. Money-back guarantee – if you get mugged, we will refund you in full."

"Krav Maga?"

Will stopped the Rover dead, jolting the unsuspecting Alice. "What did you say?"

"Err, Krav Maga."

Will snatched the leaflet from her. "This is the same leaflet that got me mugged."

"The same?"

"Well, not the _same_ , but the same." He got out of the car and walked round in a circle before jumping back in. "Nobody else got one."

"Weird."

"Not weird, worrying. Somebody is playing games with us – me, anyway."

"What is Krav Maga?"

"Some sort of martial art. I don't see how it relates to us, or me. But your book, and this... something weird is going on."

"I said that already." Will agreed that she had.

"Does anybody else know why you're here?"

"Just mom and dad."

"Marvin?"

"Umm, don't think so."

"Think."

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking." Alice thought. "Maybe he saw the book. It was in his car."

Will was beginning to wonder if the lump on his head wasn't quite so randomly obtained. "We need to go."

"To the chapel?"

"Yes."

The Rover flew down the ramp and into the street, narrowly missing a black and white horse-shaped creature.

"Was that a zebra?" Alice asked coolly, as if she might be expected to see a zebra in an English city centre

"Yes."

"O-kkk."

"It probably escaped from a zebra farm."

Alice seemed strangely satisfied with the explanation.

"They're promoting zebra crossings." Will couldn't be mean to her.

"They have their own crossings? How many zebras live here?"

"They farm them by the hundred."

"Why?"

"Zebra meat is a delicacy here."

"Eww, I think I'll go veggie."

"You tried that?"

"Oh, yeah, briefly. I like meat. Wouldn't eat zebra though."

"People like the stripes."

"The stripes go right through?"

"Like a stick of rock."

"You eat rocks? The British are so strange. No wonder they have bad teeth."

"Rock is a boiled sweet. Err... candy."

"I know that." Alice looked smug.

Will decided he'd let her win this one, and the Rover sped out of town, headed for the hills. Reaching the motorway, he floored the throttle pedal and expertly pulled into the outside lane, accompanied by clouds of dark grey smoke. _Time to thrash it._ By the time they reached the approach to Foxton Hill, he was doing 90mph, and a bit more that Alice hadn't noticed.

"This needs a run-up," he explained. It did, as Foxton Hill was well over a mile long and reached gradients of one-in-ten.

Alice was trying not to notice, as the car weaved across three lanes and took the left fork of the busy motorway. It slowed noticeably as it climbed, but was still touching 70 as they reached a sharp right-hand bend near the top. Will did not ease off the gas.

"Geez." Alice looked left and was wondering what was beyond the thin row of straggly trees that were beckoning her.

Will pressed on, and as the road straightened and dipped downwards the Rover nudged 90 again.

Alice looked around at the hills and bends and forests. "This is nice."

"Dear."

"This is nice, _dear._ "

"No, _deer."_

"You don't think so?"

"No, DEER." Will pointed at a deer.

"Oh... deer."

"What's wrong?"

Alice conceded defeat. Will was approaching his exit and slowed to 70.

"Only another couple of miles."

The Rover edged left and along the short off-ramp, and Alice prepared for him to brake hard at the small roundabout. Will didn't brake at all, so Alice made braking actions with her feet - these seemed to have no effect, but at least she'd tried. They flew across the roundabout at 60 and entered a narrower road lined with tall, over-hanging trees. Will accelerated briefly before slowing to just 50 miles per hour, and the Rover suddenly swerved left and down a steep hill.

"You know this road well." Alice was scared, but a little impressed.

"Very well. Could do it blindfolded."

"Please don't."

Will hounded the Rover through a series of tight bends and then up another steep hill, which curved sharply right and then left.

"Lot of accidents on this road," Will casually remarked.

Alice didn't doubt it. "How many did you cause?"

Will assumed she was teasing him, and he let her have her fun. As he approached another blind corner and hill brow, he indicated left and swerved violently into a single-track road. Alice was relieved to find it was flat and quite straight. They were crossing heathland now, open country with short stubby plants and the occasional straggly tree. After a while they entered a dark coniferous forest, and Alice sensed they might be nearing the mysterious site she had long dreamt of visiting. Will pulled the car up at a gravelly lay-by and, after letting the engine idle for a minute, shut it down.

"Getting dimpsey," he remarked, staring up at the sky.

"Who's she?"

"The last woman I brought up here."

"How many pieces is she in?"

"Dimpsey means _just getting dark_ , before sunset."

"I knew that."

"No you didn't."

"OK I didn't, but I knew everything else. What language is that?"

"Debnshire."

"Where's that?"

"Here, you clot."

"Clot?"

Will had to laugh. There were few local dialects in common usage and in truth, he'd moved around the country so much he'd forgotten which were from his own tongue and which were from foreigners, or _furriners_ as he called them. He explained what _Debnshire_ was, and how there were heated debates over what was Devonshire and what was Cornish. Alice thought it all very odd, and didn't appreciate being called a _fitty_ _maid._

"Just means _clever girl,_ " Will grovelled, unsuccessfully.

Alice tucked her jeans into her new boots and Will, despite thinking he'd look like a right clot, followed her example. The long grass and bracken would be wet, and the red soil would certainly leave a mark on her designer skinnies. Will rummaged in the boot and pulled out two torches, handing Alice a pretty red one.

"I get the little one?"

"It's brighter than mine."

She pressed a button and was impressed by the nine bright, white LEDs which gave off more light than she'd imagined from such a tiny flash-light.

They clambered over a grassy bank and took a short cut through a field of bracken which came up to Alice's head. She was not amused.

"I'm not amused."

"You wanted an adventure."

"This isn't adventure, it's just yucky."

Will also thought wet bracken slapping your face was yucky but, as the self-appointed man of the partnership, he couldn't admit it. Soon they reached a path, not very well trodden but sufficiently distinct to guide them the rest of the way into the small wooded area about half-way down the hill.

"Will we be able to see much?" Alice's enthusiasm was waning, like the light.

"We'll see if anybody has been digging here."

"Marvin?"

"Yes."

"How would he know where to come? You didn't give a precise location in your book."

"He might work it out, there are plenty of stories that mention this place. There's one thing that might slow him down.

"What's that?"

"You'll see."

Will led Alice through the woods, holding her hand and bashing branches out of the way. They came to a small clearing and Will stopped.

"There."

"Where?"

Will pointed to what looked like a mound of ivy and brambles.

"That?"

"That."

Alice's eyes gradually took in the scene. There was a building, or at least one and a bit walls arranged so as to closely resemble a building or, more accurately, closely resemble a building that had mostly fallen down. The roof had collapsed or been robbed, centuries before. All that remained was a gable end with a space for a door and a window above it, two small openings with gently curved and slightly pointed arches that were typically ecclesiastical. Hanging from the ends of the gable wall like the bleeding, amputated arms of some monstrous grey giant, were the remnants of the crumbled side walls. They showed the cross-sections to be some eighteen inches thick, solidly constructed from thousands of pieces of irregularly-shaped flint and limestone. Inside there was evidence of ancient rendering, but little else of decorative value.

The whole structure was covered in ivy and brambles, and in the space where the floor would have been there grew grass and nettles, stunted under the shade of the trees. Standing guard round the perimeter of the site, like a battery of spears preparing to repel an invasion, was a fence of black, wrought iron railings, crowned with crudely forged arrow shapes. The darker crevices had resisted the cleansing of wind and rain, and a musty, urine-tinged odour was occasionally lifted by creeping gusts of air into the path of unwary travellers.

Alice found the breach in the spear guard and clambered over a mound of dead wall. She carefully picked her way through knee-high nettles and took her place in the centre of the ruins. Slowly, her insignificant frame revolved and her eyes scanned the scene, until her brain had absorbed the spectacle in its entirety. She could see the history in her head and tried to fast forward through all 800 years of it. What at first glance appeared to be nothing more than a small pile of overgrown rubble, began slowly to metamorphose before her eyes into a strangely imposing apparition. Alice's heart swelled and her lungs stammered, as an intricately crafted mediaeval chapel rose up around her.

By the time a great, dark wooden roof hung above her head blocking out all natural light and completing the entombment, Alice was basking in the glow of a roaring orange fire, marvelling at candles dancing enticingly out of reach in waxy nooks and crannies. Delicate yellow flames mocked her eyes, and she tried to follow their ghostly forms as they flitted teasingly from one shiny pewter vessel to another. A wooden bench nudged the top of her calf and she was invited to sit before a sturdy oak trestle, whereupon a crusty loaf and carved goblet beckoned.

"This is so cool."

"Alice, get up. You'll get a wet ass sitting there, or stung, or bitten."

Alice straightened her legs and made a feeble attempt at brushing a muddy, wet patch from the seat of her pants. Will pulled a wad of tissues from his pocket and, holding Alice like a scalded child, wiped the mud off. He continued to dab her backside, in a futile attempt to extract stinky moisture from the denim.

"Cheeky." Alice was so engrossed in her fantasy, and if truth be told so relaxed around Will by now, she hardly considered the implications of having her backside molested in this manner.

Will was similarly disconnected from the reality of fondling a starlet's squidgy bits. "You're not getting in my car with a wet ass."

"You're so romantic."

Will put Alice down and allowed her to regain a little dignity. They exchanged smiles. Alice's was knowing, Will's simply hid a magnitude of discombobulation.

"It's getting dark, Alice."

Alice was aware of the dark, and no longer bothered by it. She turned on her torch and held it under her chin. "You're not scared, are you Will? Woooooo oooooo. Wooooo ooo oooooo."

Will was scared. "Of course I'm not scared. It's just... there's nothing we can do here now."

"OK scaredy cat, let's get you home."

Alice pointed the white beam at the exit and led Will away. She stopped suddenly as, out of the corner of her eye, a ghostly white shape flashed across the white torchlight - which she was now waving randomly around in an attempt to freak Will out some more.

"What's that?" She honed in on the shape.

"That's what will keep Marvin away, hopefully."

Alice moved towards it, and as it grew larger and brighter she was able to make out black Gothic lettering on the cracked wooden sign. She started to read the name of the chapel in a hushed voice.

"That doesn't say Guffwell."

Will laughed.

"It says...." Will slapped a large cold palm across her mouth before the word could escape.

"Don't say it out loud." He eased his palm away, pinching her lips shut.

"Why, will a mad monk vampire suddenly appear and eviscerate us?"

"No... good word, by the way."

"Thanks."

"Walls have ears. And so do bugs."

"I don't think the bugs here are interested... look, they're just playing in the light."

"Bugs of the electronic type, you numpty."

Alice didn't know what a numpty was, but she got the drift.

"You think we've been bugged?"

"I wouldn't discount the possibility."

"What if we were followed?"

Will frowned. "Who could follow me?"

Alice had flashbacks of looming hedges and visions of crumpled metal splattered with her precious blood. "True, unless he had a helicopter."

Will hadn't thought of that, and it grated.

"Shit, yes. _Does_ he have a helicopter?"

Alice's eyes smiled reassuringly. "Come on. Let's go before the SAS turn up."

"He was in the SAS?"

Alice whispered in Will's ear. "He's a retired bus driver." She kissed him on the cheek and tugged at his hand. "Come on 007, I'm getting spooked. Take me home."

## Chapter Nine

The Rover's return was leisurely and had allowed Alice to relax. The sun had long since absconded and the darkened skies were melting into the gloom of Blackwater Forest, so her eyes had little to entertain them. She dutifully allowed the car's headlights to lead her mind along the narrow, winding track as it plunged from the moorland heights, seemingly forever downwards. A stone barrier on either side prohibited all but an occasional glimpse of the world beyond, where rocks had crumbled and fallen from the top. The path followed by the ancient stones rarely aligned itself with the modern asphalt, so that Will was constantly swerving to avoid the jagged edges that would rip through unwary metal and rubber. Occasionally the trajectory of the lights brought into relief the advancing line of briery trunks, flashing before Alice's eyes like horrific sea monsters caught in the beam of an underwater vehicle plummeting to unexplored, inky depths.

"Spooky forest," she observed.

"Yeah, wouldn't wanna break down here."

"Why, are there ghosts, and monsters?"

"Probably... and no phone signal."

Will knew that they would be entering the outskirts of Blackwater in minutes, but decided to allow Alice's imagination to flourish.

"Will you protect me, Will?

"Will I? Now that is the question." Will smirked, but Alice didn't spot it. She thumped him nevertheless. He squealed and giggled before adding "What we doing for dinner?"

"Is that all you think about – food?"

He thought about other things; dark, erotic, fantastic things. "Yes."

"Where are we?"

"Blackwater," Will forgot he was protecting her, so quickly added "Errr... I mean, we will be in Blackwater when I've brought you safely through this perilous forest."

"I can see street lights."

Will's cover was blown. "Oh yeah... could be a trick."

"Looks like a town."

The forest gave way to orange hedges as they entered the town, then the hedges gave way to orange walls. The light whitened, and shiny cars and looming buildings eclipsed the night.

"We could, but I'd rather not." Will had no desire to enter any of the eateries in his home town, because he knew that would involve seeing someone he really didn't want to see ever again. He'd never been truly happy there, though he didn't realise it until he wasn't there. He found the town, and the people, suffocating. When he got a part-time job at the age of sixteen, he met people who had never travelled further than Kingston, which was barely five miles away. He suspected that 90% of the population were descended from just a handful of families. His own had arrived there in 1959, but were still seen as outsiders.

Will was a man of the world, even if he'd not seen much of it. His mind was expansive, and he could not understand people whose limited imaginations coloured everything either black or white. He despised their ignorance, and he despised the systems that he had been unable to break free of for so many years. If he'd grown up in London, or America like Alice, he was sure he'd be a famous writer, actor, photographer, artist, director, singer, comedian, footballer, athlete or president. He considered himself an artistic, creative person. The _system_ moulded him into a dull, robotic clone of its mediocre leaders. _In the land of the imbecile, the moron is king._

Will reflected on _Buffy Saved My Life,_ a book which had sold 273 copies. It wasn't a bad book, reasonably well-written, but he'd penned stories and poems in junior school which demonstrated a far richer imagination. He desperately wanted to re-ignite that imagination, and sought out people either whom he considered creative, intelligent and liberal, or people who were different, unique and beautiful _in his eyes_ – for he despised popular beauty. He had several muses, although he'd not met and didn't know intimately, most of them. Alice was his finest catch, but he despised himself for seeing it like that. He wanted to be her friend, on an equal footing, both parties profiting from mutual appreciation and understanding. This relationship was formed partially on a lie, and he wanted it to be pleasurable – for himself of course, but mostly for Alice. He knew he had much to offer her, if only he could make her see that. He remembered being 22 and he knew she wouldn't value his friendship as highly as he valued hers, because friendships came easy to 22-year-olds who generally led much richer social lives. Plus, he vaguely recalled, they were usually too busy discovering themselves.

"I really value your friendship." Alice broke his concentration.

"You do?" Had his momentary lapse into depression been in vain? Why did she choose that particular moment to shatter his pessimism? Nothing was ever easy.

"Yes I do," Alice emphasized.

"Then I must be the luckiest guy in the world." Will wondered, again, if Alice was a witch. She seemed to know what to say and when to say it.

"Really, I'm a witch."

"I knew it!"

"How far to Broadford?"

"About thirteen miles."

"And Newington?"

"About nine miles."

"Newington it is, then."

"Errr, no, then I have to drive you twenty-two miles to your hotel." Broadford wasn't that far from Newington via the straight-ish dual-carriageway that crossed over the hills, but Will had done enough driving for this day. Plus he wasn't keen on hotels, no matter how luxurious.

"You don't _have_ to."

"You've got a broomstick?"

"To beat you over the head, yes. I _mean_ I can stay at your home."

"You've seen my home – shoe box. And the neighbours are noisy."

"I spent half my life in hotels, I think I can handle it. Anyway I'd feel safer. Marvin got into your car, so he could get into my hotel room."

"Err... about that." Will felt a pang of guilt. "I think I left the car unlocked last night."

Alice was surprisingly sympathetic to Will's incompetence. "So you owe me a book, and twelve months of research."

"Sorry. I'll make it up to you."

"Well, you can start by letting me stay the night."

Will didn't think it was a bad trade. "Fair enough. Eat in or out? Or takeaway?"

"Chinese?"

Will made a feeble attempt to repeat the question with a Chinese accent. Alice groaned. They were approaching Blackwater town centre, and Will was on the look-out for people he didn't want to see.

"Is this the town with the ducks?"

"Indeed it is. More famous for swans, though."

"OK. And all the lights... so pretty. Is the river called Black Water?"

"Not originally, they had to change it."

"How come?"

Will wished he'd said yes to Black Water, as he was sure Alice's imagination was about to go into overload.

"Well the stream was originally called Devil Water."

"No shit!"

"Yes, shit."

"This is an omen."

Will feared it was indeed an omen, and the more he thought about the mad monk, and other stories he _hadn't_ told Alice, the more he wondered if there was something in the name. Then he thought about the people he grew up with, and decided there most definitely was. No point in holding back anything now.

"You might be interested in some other stories."

Alice most certainly was. "There's more? Like, evil?"

"Indeed."

"Cool."

"Ever heard of Spring-heeled Jack?"

"No."

"The Devil's footprints?"

"No."

"Well, the Devil's footprints is a story unique to this area, but similar to another involving a character called Spring-heeled Jack."

"Go on."

Will told how, one winter's night in the 1850s, there was a heavy snowfall across the south coast. The next morning, people across a number of villages woke to find strange footprints in the snow around their houses. The footprints were very small and resembled a cloven hoof. As people followed the trail of prints, it became apparent that they not only appeared on the ground, but up the sides of buildings, across walls, rooftops and in all sorts of inaccessible places. The footprints were seemingly everywhere, and covered many, many miles – reports at the time claimed the mysterious acrobat had covered over 100 miles in the course of one night.

"Wowww." Alice was very, very interested.

"Scary huh? The footprints went up to the doors and windows of houses, like the creature was looking for people, or watching them."

"No wonder you left here."

"Yeah," Will watched the herds of people on their way out for the evening's drinking, fighting and copulating rituals, "spawn of Satan."

Alice failed to make the association. "Huh?"

"Wouldn't surprise me if the Devil visited that night and impregnated all the local women, and half the people in this town today are descended from him."

"Gee, you really don't like it here."

"Nope."

"Does this have anything to do with the chapel?"

"Dunno, maybe this is England's version of Sunnydale."

"Where's that?"

"California."

"Where?"

"Where Buffy lives."

Alice laughed. "Ohhhh – the _Hellmouth_."

"You got it."

"Did Buffy live in the Hellmouth?"

Will forgave her ignorance, as she was too young to have seen the TV show when it aired. He, however, was an authority.

"Buffy lived at 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale. Sunnydale _High School_ was built on top of the Hellmouth. Hence, the kids there were a little odd. Of course in real life, that's Torrance"

" _You're_ a little odd, so maybe this _is_ the Hellmouth." Alice was pleased with her deduction and pushed her wide grin as close as possible to Will, while playfully poking his side.

"And maybe that's why you're attracted to me."

"I never said I was attracted to you."

Will blushed and stammered, "Ummm, n..n..no, sorry, didn't mean it like that."

Alice laughed and poked him again. "You're too easy." She leant across and linked her arm through his. "You're a _very_ attractive man."

"And you're a _very_ talented actress." Will didn't really care if she was attracted to him or not, if she could make it sound so genuine and lovely.

"Is that the only reason you like me?"

"Yes."

"OK, shame, thought we could have some fun tonight."

Will wasn't about to fall for it again, and carefully considered his retort. Alice had already spotted his jaw drop and his eyes watering.

"Just kidding." She allowed Will to loop an arm around her neck and squeeze her shoulder. He was on a road he'd driven thousands of times - hundreds of them blindfolded – and he felt comfortable driving with one hand. The Rover purred up the long hill, leaving the good spawn of Blackwater to their debauchery. As they broke over the brow, Will pointed with his head.

"I used to live up there."

Alice looked, but it was too late. Will was accelerating away from the town. He drove the few miles to Saltymouth and asked Alice for his arm, as he needed it to negotiate the town. Alice protested, as she was getting quite comfortable and felt quite safe when she was this close to him. She settled back into the seat and pushed her hands between her legs, palms turned against the inside of her thighs. She flexed her shoulders and leant back, eyes closed.

"Wake me up when we get to the Chinese."

"Twenty minutes, tops."

"Twenty minutes is good." Alice would use the time to reflect on her whirlwind friendship, going over minute details just in case she had missed something telling. By the time they reached Newington, she hadn't been able to think of any good reason not to trust Will. She hoped he'd not read her signals incorrectly; she thought he hadn't, and she knew she could read him well enough to know if he had. She enjoyed playful but harmless flirting and guessed he did too, and that he probably had few opportunities. Satisfied with her handling of the situation, she allowed herself to imagine the night ahead, and smiled.

"Wake up. What you dreaming about?

"Oh... nothing." Alice's smile broadened. She opened her eyes just as the car entered Takeaway Ave., which was full of people queuing inside and outside lots of brilliantly lit and colourful premises, representing cuisine from every corner of the world, and a few that represented neither the world nor cuisine in the contemporary sense. "Wow, this town has a lot of junk-food addicts."

Will pulled into a dark side-street away from the hubbub, mindful of his passenger's status. He would've parked there anyway, because he didn't want to risk having the Rover's paintwork scratched. It was pretty well-scratched already, but he didn't want any more.

"Will you be OK here?"

"Why, don't you want to be seen with me?"

"It's more a case of you not wanting to be seen with me!" Will was genuine. "Anyway, there are a lot of idiots out there, and if somebody recognizes you then all hell could break loose."

"I can handle hell. Been there already, got the t-shirt."

"You're more than welcome to come, but ..."

Will couldn't finish his sentence before Alice had jumped out of the car. She shut the door and stood with her hands behind her back, tucked into the waistband of her jeans. She leant forward and her long hair fell across her face. She parted it and studied her reflection in the door glass: no make-up and shaggy hair. She was wearing a beige leather jacket with lapels, and she flicked them and the collar up. This, and the mass of straggly hair, she figured covered enough of her face to allow her to blend in. People would be too busy eating or waiting to eat, and wouldn't give her a second glance.

"Let's go, pops. What you gonna buy me?"

Will remembered she had no cash. He couldn't afford it, but there was no way he'd back out. He thought of asking her to pay with plastic, but not only would it be extremely bad form, it might also alert people to her identity.

"Whatever you want."

"Can you afford me?"

"No. But I can sell something later... an arm, a leg, a kidney."

"I'll buy a leg off you."

"Deal. One Chinese meal for one leg."

Alice linked arms with Will again. "We'll pretend I'm your daughter and you're taking me out for a treat."

She liked being close to him, especially in crowds. Will thought she was getting very friendly, and he wasn't sure daughters usually walked with their hand in their father's back pocket, but he decided he'd pretend it was an American thing - should anybody question it.

"Shall I do my English accent?"

There went his excuse. "OK, let's hear it."

"Cor blimey guvnor; apples and pears; oi, oo yu lookin' at, matey?"

"I'd probably stick to American, if I was you."

"Don't they talk like that here?"

"Only when they want to take the piss out of Americans who do appalling English accents."

Arriving at one of the quieter Chinese restaurants, they peered through the window at an exotic-looking menu.

"Looks quiet, maybe we should just eat here. Then I can use my credit card."

Will was impressed by the offer and potential sacrifice. "We can eat here, but I pay. Up to you, I don't mind."

"We'll get a take-out. It'll be fun. We can watch movies and plait each other's hair."

"If you can plait my hair, you're a bloody magician."

Alice studied Will's cropped hair and tried to imagine it in plaits.

"OK, you plait mine."

Will really didn't want to plait her hair. "I'll cut it for you."

"Ohhhhhh no. It stays long. Don't you like it long?"

"Hmmm. Long is OK, I just think you look better with it shorter and curlier, or tied up. Remember the end of _Blaggers,_ when you're in that shop?"

"Oh yeah, welllll ... it was _shop_ hair." She laughed.

"Well I thought it looked really nice. You have such a beautiful face, it's a shame to cover it up. Except for going incognito, of course."

"Let's order, I'm salivating." Alice was secretly impressed that he'd taken an interest in her hair.

Will held open the door, and they entered the restaurant arm-in-arm.

## Chapter Ten

Back at his shoe box, Will had reversed the Rover into its usual position.

"Making me do all the work tonight, huh?" Alice sat in the car while Will pushed open his door, to within four feet of the house.

"You're younger and fitter."

"I've got the food to carry, and my bag." Alice stepped out and held two brown paper bags in outstretched arms across the roof of the car. She showed no inclination to move further.

Will rolled his eyes and sighed, before dutifully trotting around the front of the car to collect the meal. He decided he was rarely going to win any of the games he and Alice would inevitably play - unless she wanted him to. Tonight, he would be on his best behaviour. He took the brown paper bags and made towards the door. Alice hadn't finished play.

"Hang on, just take this for me." She held out her bag.

Will's eyes did a complete 360 and he growled as he headed back towards _der kommandant_.

"No, it's OK, I can manage."

Will was beaten. He fumbled with the door lock and dropped his keys, groaning as he bent to pick them up. He hesitated briefly, mid-stoop, turning to scowl at Alice – who was hovering inches behind him with a huge grin on her face. He groaned again as he straightened his aching back.

"Getting old, pops. You should get an early night."

"Not too old to smack your ass."

"Promises, promises."

Will remembered he was on best behaviour and opened the door, beckoning Alice forwards.

"Age before beauty." Alice was smirking.

Will couldn't dispute that. He felt older than his years, with stiff bones and aching muscles. She was incredibly beautiful, and had the kind of face that could not easily be enhanced - make-up just made her look like every other pretty actor. In unadulterated form, the purity of creation shown in her skin, lips and eyes simply eclipsed any natural wonder he'd ever seen. He was worried. _Damn witch._ He headed for the kitchen, where he carefully unwrapped an assortment of colourful and aromatic dishes. He sourced two plates and two forks. Alice was in the bathroom pretending to sing badly, but in truth she had a wonderful voice. She returned and peeked over Will's shoulder.

" _I'm just your, just your_.... ooo, water chestnuts."

Will was spooning an assortment onto each plate. "How much pork?"

"Mmmmm, more, gimmee more pork."

"I haven't given you any, yet."

"Well give it me, give it me now."

Will remembered he was on best behaviour, and stuck to serving the food. Alice retired to the lounge and sunk into the sofa. Will brought her plate and proceeded to arrange the surplus goodies on the coffee table in front of her.

"Drink?"

"Wine please."

Will always kept a selection of wines and beers, for when guests dropped by unexpectedly. He hadn't had an unexpected guest in six years, and was forced to drink the alcohol himself every few months. He'd recently stocked up again. "White? Dry?"

"Wet please."

"Chilled?"

"I'm warm enough." Alice grinned and two bean sprouts slid out of her mouth. "Sthrrry."

"You don't have to eat it all in one go."

"I'm hungry." Alice was on a diet, as always, but tonight she wasn't an actress but a 22-year-old girl who could eat, drink and be slobbish; she liked this.

Will turned to his wine cellar, a mini-refrigerator in black with a shiny glass door. He pulled out a bottle of cheap, fruity, off-dry white and ran his fingers over it, feeling the glass carefully.

"It's not very cold."

"No problem."

Will opened his glass cupboard. There were glasses of all sizes and shapes, but due to his habit of dropping them or bashing them against the hot water tap, there were no sets comprising more than two or three identical vessels. There were beer and lager glasses - half-pint and pint - tumblers, schooners, hi-ball, snifters, wine glasses, and flutes. He fished around in the back of the cupboard and pulled out two heavy, cut lead-crystal wine glasses. They weren't quite a matching pair, but he didn't want to serve a special guest cheap wine out of cheap glasses. He three-quarters filled each one, pushed the rubber stopper back in the bottle, and put it the fridge to cool further. After brief consideration, he pulled a second bottle of white from the cellar and put that in the fridge.

Alice's hand was already poised and Will passed her the glass, before joining her on the sofa.

"Nice wine."

Will detected no hint of irony, so proffered no retort. Perhaps she was used to drinking out of very expensive crystal, but a relative novice when it came to wine.

"Sorry there's no dining table."

"This is fun."

Alice did indeed appear to be enjoying the experience, which Will supposed must have been novel for her. He settled back and grabbed the remote, turning on the TV just as Ellie Broadbottom was announcing the traffic news. Alice's ears perked up.

"Ooo, let's see how many accidents you caused today."

"Three."

"I'll go four."

"Police are warning motorists in Broadford to be on the look-out for an escaped zebra." Ellie's voice wavered and she stifled a titter, before continuing in a more serious tone, "The zebra was taking part in a schools' road safety campaign to promote the use of zebra crossings, but was spooked by a red car travelling at speed. Witnesses described how a young blond girl in an old Rover sped out of the Guildhall multi-storey car-park, narrowly missing Zelda the Zebra. Zelda's owner describes her as a sociable animal with a penchant for humbugs. She is believed to have been spotted in the graveyard of St Bartholomew's, although grieving witnesses could not positively identify her."

Will roared. "Alice, look what you've done."

"That's not funny. Poor Zelda. And why do _I_ get the blame?!"

"Clearly you look suspicious, or dangerous - a _zebra worrier_. Don't fret, it'll turn up soon. It's not as if zebras can just melt into the background."

"That's precisely what zebras do!"

"Not in Broadford."

"What if it stops on a zebra crossing?"

Will drew a picture in his brain and shrugged. "I'm not sure their traffic awareness is that advanced."

"But drivers won't see it."

Will pictured a zebra on a zebra crossing, then imagined a pedestrian on a zebra on a zebra crossing. Then he imagined an escaped convict on a zebra, on a zebra crossing. The convict had a bag of humbugs. He would take his camera to Broadford tomorrow.

Alice finished her meal and slumped. "Stuffed."

"Me too." Will flicked through the on-screen guide. "Well look at that, you're on."

Alice stared at the screen. "Oh no, please."

Will selected the channel. Alice held out an empty glass.

"If I really must watch that, I gotta have more wine."

Will grabbed the open bottle from the fridge, and after little consideration grabbed the second, full bottle. He slumped next to Alice and filled her glass. Alice downed half of it.

"Steady, you're only little."

"How tall are you?"

Will told her he was five feet ten inches. This bothered him, as everybody these days seemed to be over six feet.

"Well I'm only six inches shorter."

"Six inches is a lot."

"Not enough for me." Alice wrinked.

Will cringed. "You're greedy."

"I have standards."

"I'm sorry I don't meet them."

"I guess I can make allowances for age... and experience."

Will remembered he was on best behaviour. "Anyway you weigh about half a me, so you shouldn't drink as much."

"Spoilsport."

Will topped-up her glass anyway, figuring it might be better if she passed out.

"Oh. My. God. Look at my hair." Alice was peeking at the television from behind her glass.

"I rather like it."

"I look like a mad old witch."

With pursed lips and a furrowed brow, Will examined her face. "Hmm."

Alice punched him. "Can I borrow your computer?"

Will passed a tiny netbook, and Alice opened the screen and switched it on. Will settled back and sipped his wine, eyes glued to the TV screen; he'd seen it three times previously, but he still enjoyed this film. She was the youngest member of the cast, but shared star billing. The other actors seemed to look up to her, even if they had to look down on her to do it. Her on-screen beau gazed down into her eyes and seemed to hold it longer than Will thought necessary to the plot. _Bastard._ He was jealous. Thomas was younger, slimmer, taller, and very handsome, he supposed, not knowing what constituted _handsome_ in a male. Now Alice was looking longingly into his eyes. _Shit._ Was it great acting or was their obvious rapport down to a secret off-screen affair? Will turned the TV off.

"Bored of me already?"

"Well you're not watching it."

"Kidding."

"Music?"

"OK."

"Any preference?"

"Nah."

Will got up and fiddled with his equipment. He changed the amp and speaker settings, then slipped a disc into the CD player. He sat down and flicked the remote, skipping the first track.

"In my place, in my place, were lines I couldn't have changed ..."

"What's this?"

"Coldplay."

"You like Coldplay?"

"No, I always play music I don't like. I love being grumpy and unhappy."

"What if it makes me grumpy and unhappy?"

"I asked you if you had a preference!" Will almost shrieked.

Alice grinned. "You're _sooo_ easy."

The third track got underway. Alice started humming and then chirped, " _God put a smile upon my face_. Lalala. This is a bit better."

"They get better as they go. It's a proper album." He mused briefly, and proudly added, "Chris Martin and I were born in the same place, y'know."

"Aww, sweet, did you play with him when you were kids?"

"He's a _few_ years younger. Let's just listen to the music."

Alice listened, for ten seconds.

"Is this your favourite album Willy? Do you like to listen to it when you're grumpy?"

Willy didn't take the bait.

"Oh I love this," Alice was la-la-ing again, "c _ome up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry, you don't know how lovely you arerrreee._ " Alice sang into Will's ear. "Bet you've never been serenaded before."

"Not like this."

"Serenade me Willy."

"You really don't want that."

"Can't you sing?"

"Like a fish."

"Underwater?"

"No, a land fish."

Alice emptied her glass and pointed to the computer screen. "What sign are you?"

"Gemini."

"Right... Pisces and Gemini. Well, look at that." She swung the screen round and Will read the words.

"Love match?!"

"Love, friends, whatever - that doesn't matter. Read the rest."

Will read it. _Gemini and Pisces are attracted to each other like moths to a flame, and there's a lot of initial excitement._ He didn't believe in this rubbish, but continued to read. Anyway, there was sure to be a downside.

Alice was muttering. "Oh, look - _Gemini is way too emotionally retarded for Pisces, who may feel drained after time._ I'm drained by my retarded Willy."

Will caught up with the text. "It doesn't say _retarded_."

"That's what it means."

"OK, we may as well quit now."

"Guess so. I'll get my coat." Alice poured herself another glass and tipped the dregs into Will's. "You don't believe in that rubbish do you?"

"Course not." Will believed the first part totally. _Moths to a flame._ There was no denying it, the first time he'd seen Alice he was smitten. He would have to work extra hard to hide his feelings. She was too young, too beautiful, too wealthy, too popular, too talented, too successful... not so much in a different league as from a different planet. Why she even bothered talking to him was a mystery. Maybe she felt sorry for him, or maybe it was some sort of social experiment she'd concocted to research a film part. Surely it couldn't just be that she _believed_ that rubbish about a vampire giving her strong teeth and a permanently youthful complexion? Will opened the second bottle, filled his glass to the brim, and downed it in one.

Alice was tapping away and talking to herself. "G... what is it again?"

"Shh, bugs."

Alice turned and stared. "You were serious?"

"Can't be too careful."

"How would he bug us?"

"Clothing."

"You want me to take my clothes off?"

Will struggled with his answer. "Well, did he have access to your clothes?"

"What are you saying?"

Will didn't want to go there. "Well, he had access to mine."

"So, get naked."

"Can I go upstairs?"

"No, I want to see your little buggy thing."

"OK, let me think. Jacket - I was wearing my Berghaus, it has lots of pockets. And jeans - these jeans." He stood up, wobbled a bit, and proceeded to pat himself down, not that he knew what he was patting for.

"Want me to do it?"

Will wanted to let the wine do the talking, but declined. He felt in every pocket, and under his belt. He wobbled to the coat room and turned his jacket inside-out and upside-down. Nothing. Maybe he was being paranoid.

"Could be anywhere." He was bored looking.

"I think you're being paranoid. If Marvin took my book, he would be looking for Guffwell. That was after he brought you home, and after the last time I saw him. He probably hasn't discovered it's a made-up name yet."

Will couldn't really fault her theory. He didn't want to believe he was bugged, especially with Alice here because that would really put a dampener on the conversation.

"You're right. I'm being paranoid. Like Marvin."

"Huh?"

"The paranoid android?"

"Huh?

"Don't tell me you've never read or seen _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_ _?"_

_"Ohh, yes."_

"He was paranoid and had a brain the size of a planet."

"Like you, then. Fifty-percent."

Will took umbrage. "I'm a very intelligent person."

"Aww, of course you are." Alice's patronizing tone cut deep.

"Don't patronize me."

"Are we having our first fight?"

"Yes."

"I'll win."

Will thought for a second. "I quit."

"That's the spirit. More wine please." She waved an empty glass and the second bottle, which somehow she'd managed to empty without Will noticing.

"Christ, that's two bottles."

"You had some."

"I've only got red, or beer."

"Beer please."

"It's real ale, you probably won't like it," Will said hopefully.

"I can try some, can't I?"

Will fetched a bottle from the cooler and poured her half a glass of Old Bob."

Alice grabbed the bottle. "Who's Old Bob?"

"He makes beer. He's old. He's called Bob."

Alice sipped the dark brown ale. "Mmmm, not bad." She helped herself to more.

Will cried inside. There were just two bottles of his favourite tipple remaining. _Oh well, get her drunk quick and put her to bed_. He got a second beer from the cooler.

"So .. G...?"

"G i d w e l l."

Alice tapped about 20 keys and entered the name "Oh, lots here." She sat back and scanned a few before declaring "I think I'm drink. I mean thunk. I mean drunk."

Will grinned; _not long now_. "Have another," he said, and filled her glass, which she emptied before grabbing the bottle from him.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Will? You're a naughty boy."

Alice was waving a glass of precious ale around, so Will acted swiftly and steadied her hand. He closed the netbook and pushed it away.

"We'll look at that tomorrow."

"Ho-K." Alice downed the remaining ale. "Mmmm this slips down nicely." She fell backwards and giggled. Will wished he was drunk too, but she'd made sure he couldn't be.

"More beer?" Hold it, I need to pee." Alice staggered to her knees and fell face-first onto the deep-pile wool rug. "Mmmm ... soft."

Will gripped her under the arms and lifted. She was no weight at all and he stood her up as straight as he could, pushing her towards a wall so she could lean.

"You're so strong." Alice's grin was a little lop-sided, like her hair. "Pee-pee."

"Can you manage?"

"Hmmm... no."

Will held her upright and she shuffled to the bathroom, three steps forwards, two steps backwards and six steps sideways. Will pulled the light switch and waited.

"What you waiting for?"

"I don't want you falling and cracking your head on the basin." Will really wasn't interested in watching her pee-pee, but he was interested in not allowing a Hollywood star half his age to die under suspicious circumstances, especially not in his bathroom. Alice, despite her advanced state of inebriation, must have gathered this much from Will's tone and stern expression.

"Ho-K. Hold me up." She undid her jeans. "Don't look."

Will wasn't looking. "I'm not looking - look."

Alice decided she'd take his word for it, and with one hand propping her up against Will's bulky frame, she wiggled and pushed and pulled until her jeans were around her knees. She fell onto the lavatory seat with a crash and Will, presuming she could fall no further, turned and left.

"Don't forget your undies."

"Ho-k, daddy."

Will shut the door and listened for more crashing, but all seemed calm so he returned to the lounge and fetched himself another ale. He'd missed most of _A Rush of Blood to the Head_ so flicked the remote and skipped back to track eight, figuring he could listen to the last four songs by the time Alice had managed to pee, get up, get dressed, wash her hands, and find her way back. He shouted to her, "Let me know if you need a hand, OK?"

"OK!"

She sounded slightly more coherent – clearly the standing had been too much. Will supposed the colder air in the bathroom and brighter lights probably helped. Alice had her eyes shut, due to the bright lights. Will said a little prayer and turned the volume up, but not so loud as to mask the sound of crashing.

" _A warning sign, I missed the good part, then I realized_ .." Will had had just about enough to drink for him to sing along. The last four tracks were among his favourite songs, and even at twenty minutes, he was sure he'd get most of them in before Alice was well enough to crash back.

" _Yeah, the truth is, that I miss you sooo_ ..." The sentiment was not unfamiliar to Will. He missed a lot of people, though they didn't know it; nobody knew it – he maintained a stoical appearance at all times, having learned the hard way that emotions always led to depression eventually. He didn't hear Alice singing along too. He skipped _Whisper_ and went straight to a gruff rendition of " _I'm gonna buy this place and burn it down_ ..." as he wanted to make sure he could fit in _Amsterdam_.

Meanwhile, Alice had just about emptied her bladder for a third time and was trying to twist through ninety degrees to reach the loo paper. She was muttering obscenities under her breath and cursing Will for arranging his bathroom fittings so inconsiderately. She swung angrily at the roll of three-ply and it flew from the holder, unravelling like an exploding white swan across the floor. She cursed again and started to gather the tissue on her lap, and after three minutes and a pile that resembled a crudely re-assembled white swan, realized she needed to take control of the cardboard end.

"Bastard," she glared at the roll - out of reach of a sober person, let alone an Alice. She decided it would be easier to unroll it and then roll it up again, but sadly underestimated the length.

Will was shrieking, " _Time, it's on your side, it's on your siiide_..." but Alice feared it might not be.

" _I am screaming underneeeaath_."

Alice was indeed screaming underneath a pile of soft, white, velvety three-ply. She conceded defeat, ripped a bucketful of tissue from the mountain, and reached between her legs. It was at this point she started sobbing. _Underwear? Off? Noooooo!_

"Willllll .. help."

Will sprang to his feet, always ready and prepared to rescue any damsel if she sounded vaguely distressed, or even if she didn't. He got in a few more lines first, " _Stuck on the end, of this ball and chain.... stood on a bridge, tied to a noose... I'm sick of the seeeecrets, stood on the edge, tied to a noose, she came along and she cut me loose._ " Will eventually cut Alice loose of the mutating, marauding white monster. His singing turned to laughing, and Alice sighed the sigh of a woman whose last remaining shred of dignity was about to be flushed down the pan, along with half a swan.

"I peed myself." She laughed, deciding it was the best form of defence.

"Shit."

"No, just pee."

Will tried hard not to ridicule her. He turned away, highly amused but a little flustered. "What do you want me to do?"

"Help me up."

Will helped her up, and turned his head. "I've got my eyes shut, do what you have to do."

Alice pushed and pulled and somehow wriggled out of her jeans and wet pants. She grabbed an armful of tissue and dried herself. "Can you flush it."

"OK."

"Can you keep your eyes shut, and help me to the sofa?"

Will didn't need to open his eyes - he vividly pictured the scene: a staggering, half-naked celebrity entwined in toilet paper, leading a chubby, middle-aged blind man. Must make a note of this for my next book. Fortunately the sofa was only five feet from the bathroom door, and Alice had simply to use Will to slingshot herself through 180 degrees. Somehow tripping over the tissue vine that had crept around her feet, she fell sideways and landed face-first in the blue velour.

"Mmmm soft.... Keep your eyes shut, Will."

"OK."

Alice had had the foresight to pack spare undies in her bag, and was now trying to feed her legs into them. "Thank God you don't have a camera."

"Oh, but I do." Will suddenly pictured pound and dollar signs.

"Well then, it's a good job you're a gentleman."

Will cursed himself for being a gentleman.

"OK, done."

Will turned and opened his eyes. A bare-legged Alice was sprawled across the sofa, her tiny white panties decorated with wispy shreds of tissue.

"You wanna stay there?"

"For a minute. Or ten."

"We need to discuss sleeping arrangements."

It was too late. Alice's eyes were firmly closed and her lips slightly parted. She breathed quietly, serenely, and her modest bosom rose and fell with steady rhythm. Will sighed and looked at the stairs, then again at the limp body. The stairs were steep and narrow, and he had a bad back. _This'll be fun_. Carefully sliding his arms under her knees and the small of her delicate back, trying not to wake her and face some awkward questioning, he crouched and steadied himself. With a deep breath he straightened his legs and she floated upwards. _Light as a feather....ish._

Turning sideways, he lifted a foot onto the bottom stair. Now came the hard part – a ninety degree turn to the right. He shifted his grip, and her legs bent sufficiently to enable him to negotiate the narrow flight. Using her head to bump open the bedroom door, he strode purposefully across the mismatched bedroom rugs and laid his princess on the bed. Alice groaned. _Please stay unconscious another minute_. He was almost there, he just had to manoeuvre her under the duvet. _Shit_. She had a woolly top on, and would be too hot. He pulled it up over her head, then stopped and adjusted her rising shirt, but not before admiring her smooth, soft belly. He thought she might be uncomfortable in her bra, but a much closer inspection revealed it to be absent. _All good. Piece of cake_.

Having safely rolled her under the duvet and tucked her in, Will was making his escape when Alice groaned again. _Shhh_. He willed her not to wake. He was almost at the door now.

"Where you going?"

Alice, who ten seconds ago looked sixty-percent dead, was almost sitting up. She'd managed to turn over and was leaning on her elbow, her mangled hair hiding most of her face.

"Huh?"

"Where're you going to sleep?"

Will didn't have an answer.

"Well?"

"Umm, dunno... sofa?" He'd somehow allowed himself to turn it into a question, and felt guilty. But also hopeful – his bed was big and comfy, and the sofa was not.

"Stay."

"Here?" Will looked around at the door and the floor.

"Here."

"There?"

"If you want."

Will wanted, but this was the alcohol demons calling him to bed, not Alice. The scenarios flashed through his mind. He had to think quick. What if he slept with her and she woke up and screamed? What if she screamed rape? He wanted to share a bed with Alice, but not with a drunk. _Shit._

A soft muted voice drifted into his ears from under a warm duvet. "I promise I won't molest you."

Alice's concern was touching, and he made up his mind. _What the hell. You only live once_. Will figured he had the willpower, and Alice was hardly going to be tempted to start anything. It was a big bed, they were both adults, and he really didn't want to wake up with an aching neck, back or anything else.

"OK, thanks, I appreciate it. Didn't fancy the sofa – bad back and all."

He waited for affirmation, but none came.

"Just going to the bathroom, five minutes."

"OK. Can you bring me some water?"

"OK."

Will skipped down the stairs and brushed his teeth very thoroughly. He grabbed a handful of moistened wipes and tried to deodorize his smellier bits, then filled a glass with water. He skipped back up the stairs and jumped out of his clothes, leaving just his underpants. _Shit._ He ripped off his underpants and replaced them with a clean pair, before approaching the crumpled duvet with an enticing woman-shaped bump in it.

Hoping she'd fallen asleep again, he slowly lifted the covers and took in the sweet scent of warm Alice. Gorgeous. Easing his bulk as carefully as a bulk can be eased, Will slid onto the mattress with his back toward the girl. He edged as close as he dare, not wanting to contaminate her with his sad excuse for a body, and pulled the duvet back over his shoulder. He curled up on his side and shut his eyes. _So far, so good_.

"What ya doing?"

"Err, me?"

"Is there anybody else here?"

Will strained his eyes, taking in the familiar shapes, illuminated by the constant blue glow from his radio.

"Don't think so." _Shit_. She probably thought he was playing with himself. "Not doing anything, nothing at all."

"Cuddle."

Alice was clearly under the misapprehension she'd pulled a different bloke, and Will could hardly impersonate the sort of bloke Alice might find herself in bed with.

"It's Will here." Clearly, this misunderstanding needed to be resolved quickly.

"Sorry, thought it was someone else. Dork. Cuddle."

Will was floundering like a flounder in a place where founders oughtn't be. In fact, there were signs reading 'No Flounders' and pictures of flounders with red lines across them. There was a dead flounder hanging from a gallows, a final warning just in case any day-dreaming flounders had absent-mindedly wandered too far. Alice hadn't actually asked a question though, and he hoped maybe she was talking in her sleep.

An arm flung backwards across his leg. "Cuddle – now."

Will remembered he was the world's worst reader of women, looked again at the hanging flounder which he noticed was devoid of testicles, and knew there was only one sure way to resolve this. "You want me to cuddle you?"

"Do ya want it in writing?"

Will thought this was an excellent idea, but doubted Alice's ability to write whilst semi-comatose. And he didn't have a pen handy. Flounders rarely wore sports jackets or blazers.

"Have you got a pen?"

Alice's brain was slowly assembling the pieces. "Is something wrong?"

"No."

Alice thought something was fishy. "Have you got a hard-on?"

"NO."

"Are you afraid I'll rape you?"

"I'm afraid you might regret this tomorrow."

"Don't be a wet Willy."

There was the tiniest hint of grinning sobriety in her voice, and Will was being worn down. He turned over and swung an arm around her tiny waist. Alice gripped his hand.

"Mmmm, cuddle. Nice."

Will agreed that it was nice and prayed he could control his libido. He thought he could act fatherly around her, but wasn't sure this was entirely the way to go about it. He settled on gay friend - he wasn't, but maybe she was. Satisfied with her lesbian status, he cuddled her tight and whispered in her ear, "Night."

Will kissed the back of her neck as softly as he could, lingering to take in the aroma which he considered just about the most intoxicating he'd ever inhaled. Alice squeezed his hand and held it against her hot belly. He closed his eyes and smiled. Tonight, he wouldn't need to dream.

"Night, pops."

_So much for the gay-friend idea._ Will couldn't see the broad grin on Alice's face.

"Night kid, sweet dreams." Under his breath, as quietly as a church mouse wearing slippers tiptoeing across a foam-padded floor, he added, "Love you." He'd never say it again in her presence, and she would never know. It was a secret between him and the nape of her sensual neck.

"Love you too. Now go to sleep." Alice's grin became a smile. She thought of how much she now cared for her new, slightly odd, funny and very thoughtful friend.

Will decided he knew his place, and it was second. He went to sleep, warmed, comforted, and very, very happy, hoping that Alice would take care of him.

## Chapter Eleven

Will was conscious of a pattering sound all around him, and nothing else. He had been awake for ten minutes. The patter became a tapping, and the bed began to gently sway. After three further minutes he'd managed to open his eyelids sufficiently that he could make out a familiar scene. It was bright - much brighter than he remembered his bedroom being. Muted sunshine squeezed through the open blinds, and he was aware of a unfamiliar presence. He squinted and recognized digits on a clock, and they were 0930. Suddenly he felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his back and neck.

"Morning, sleepy head." Alice was now drawing a heart on his back with a red felt-tip pen.

It had been many years since Will had received a morning greeting, and his semi-conscious brain failed to fully compute the information. Alice stabbed a few more dots into his back.

"Morning, grumpy!"

Will caught his name, still unsure of the thrower. "Err, morning...?"

"Forgotten my name already? Tart."

_Oh, I remember._ "Morning, tart."

Will rolled over. Alice was sitting up, netbook on her lap, waving a red pen around.

"Enjoy your lie-in?"

Will had vague recollections of an intoxicated friend passing-out. "Where's Alice?"

"Alice is alive and kicking." She kicked him, as if to emphasize the point.

Will's eyes tried to focus on the area where he thought her head was, but were unable to positively identify the strangely effervescent entity. However, he thought her hair looked a little odd.

"Wet?"

"No, thanks for asking. Hard?"

"Hair. Wet. Is it raining?" Pattering and wet made rain, in Will's planet-sized brain.

"Yes, I decided to go for a jog in the rain, in my panties. The neighbours seem friendly."

Will cringed. Now he'd never be able to face the neighbours again.

"You're joking, right?"

Alice glared, but realizing she was in bed with a morning numbskull, opted simply to draw dots on his cheeks.

"I had a shower. Now I'm working. I haven't been jogging, but it did rain. Now it's stopped."

It made no sense to Will, but he hadn't the nerve to dispute her account.

"You need to shower, Mr Stinky."

"Charming."

Alice leant over and kissed the tip of his nose. "Thanks for last night."

Will smiled modestly, proud of his ability to resist the molestation of a drunk girl.

"You were great." Alice wrinked. "Such stamina. Let me rest for an hour and we can go again."

Will decided it was time for a shower. He leaped out of bed and ran across the room.

"Hurry back, lover."

Will stopped as a thought formed in his brain. "White rabbits!" He continued, descending the stairs with all the grace of a hippopotamus on stilts. Three from the end, he slipped on a piece of tissue paper and slid feet-first into the wall at the bottom. He looked up, and glared at the photo mocking him from above. _Witch._ He felt a stabbing pain in his neck.

"You alright, my luvvarrr?" Alice had evidently researched a local dialect, but it wasn't one he immediately recognized.

Will was now boxed-in, between a corporeal, mocking witch with her evil red wand, and a grinning apparition with a black heart.

"What's with the bunnies?"

"Err, first of the month. Should have said it earlier."

Alice pinched his spare tyre and punched his arm.

"It wasn't an insult. We say _white rabbits_ for luck." The irony did not escape him.

"And I say pinch, punch, first of the month."

"I think the emphasis should be on _say_."

"I'm different."

Will agreed, whole-heartedly.

"Come on pops." Alice made a valiant attempt to lift her bruised friend. "I'll make some of that faux-coffee stuff for you."

Will stood and made a valiant attempt to suck in his belly, before scurrying off to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and climbed in, shuddering as the barely-lukewarm water stung his hot, sweaty flesh. Quickly the water reached body temperature and he bathed in the soft embrace of a thousand caressing droplets. Then he remembered to take his underpants off.

Grabbing a robe and wrapping a towel round his spotted neck, he returned to find a mug of coffee, but no Alice. He sat and rolled a cigarette. In two seconds his mind was dancing on swaying white clouds that resembled white bunny rabbits. _Definitely worth the wait._ He savoured the sweet poison, relaxing with his feet on the alcohol-imbued and food-strewn table. He rolled a second and drew in a lungful; _not as good._ Stubbing the part-smoked cigarette out, he necked the warm coffee and returned to the bedroom, finding Alice sitting upright on the bed with her legs crossed and three pillows behind her back. She patted her hand on the mattress without taking her eyes from the computer screen. Will dutifully advanced, and as he sat, she pulled one pillow from behind her so he also would have two.

"Anything interesting?" Will asked out of politeness, rather than inquisitiveness.

"Gidwell, Blackwater, amulets, serial killers, vampires. Now I have the proper name, I've found out quite a lot."

"And?" Will hoped she'd found out enough to persuade her not to believe his book's fantastic theories.

"Must be something in it."

"In my fantastic theory?"

"In the well."

Will sighed. The well had probably been filled in over 700 years ago, and anything left behind would be useless. He knew roughly where the well was, but it was little more than a boggy depression now.

"Even if we knew where the well was, we couldn't dig it out."

"Maybe. No harm trying."

Will envisioned all manner of harm – broken back, mud, exhaustion, sweat, a lynching-mob of furious locals, furious frogs, cholera, black death, prison, mocking - to name but a few.

"Well, it's too wet now."

"You're wet."

Will slapped her thigh. It felt good. He pretended his hand was ricocheting in order to make the most of it. Alice didn't flinch.

"Will, do you want me to go?"

"Go where?"

"Home."

"No. No. No." Will considered a fourth _no_.

"Then humour me."

"No. I mean, yes. That _no_ belonged with the other _nos._ Err, we'll do whatever you want."

"Good boy." Alice allowed her hand to ricochet off Will's firm thigh. "Nice legs."

"Not as nice as yours."

Alice smiled with her eyes. She took Will's hand and placed it against the soft pink flesh. "If it feels good, do it."

Will agreed it felt good, but wasn't sure what _it_ was, or why she was being so friendly. His hand froze; he was on the edge, unsure whether to jump off and break something, or climb up and be pushed from the top. He decided to await mountain rescue.

"Move and you're dead." Alice grinned. Will was stuck on the edge and felt the noose tighten.

"Oooooo." Alice was getting excited.

Will wondered if now was the time to climb.

"Ghosts. Reports of ghosts. We must go at night."

Will was rocking.

Alice was approaching climax. "People have seen ghosts of victims, and the mad monk appears, in the actual well itself."

"Drunk people see ghosts."

Alice smirked. "Then we'll take wine. And Old Bob."

Will didn't believe in ghosts, but that didn't stop him being scared of them. He figured a mad-monk, serial-killer ghost might be scarier than most, and if he really had to visit that creepy ruin at night, Old Bob would be a comforting companion. He decided to take Betty Stoggs along too. She was a Cornish folklore character and also a fine ale.

"We go tonight, rain or shine."

Will frowned. "Shine?"

"You're so pedantic."

Will agreed he was.

"We can rest today."

"Now you're talking sense." Will was an expert in the art of relaxation.

Alice shut the netbook and crawled under the duvet. Will lifted the cover over their heads, laying face-to-face. Heated breath quickly warmed their insulated world.

"What shall we do now?" Alice's eyes were locked onto Will's.

"Snuggling is good."

"Good answer." She tickled him and he giggled like a child.

"Are you ticklish, Will?"

"Are you?"

"No!"

Alice's squealing recoil alerted Will to the possibility of a deception, and he aimed his wriggling fingers at her sides. Alice jerked away and Will's hand landed firmly and squarely on top of her right breast. They both flinched.

"Oops, sorry."

"Do that again and you're dead."

It seemed a fair trade-off, but he feared she might miss his heart and just wound him. He didn't want to end up horribly mutilated but alive. Alice moved closer so that both sets of arms were disabled. They lay with knees and hands touching, arms bent in a prayer position. She grasped his hands and he wrapped them around hers.

"Let's play a game."

"Didn't bring my pool cue."

"Anything wooden?"

"Only my heart."

Alice swrinked. "Truth or dare?"

"Unless the dare involves tickling your palms or making funny faces, I think it'll have to be truth."

"Will," Alice put on her serious face, "Putting aside the fact you're twice my age and we only just met, would you have tried to have your wicked-way with me last night, being as I was drunk an' all, if I wasn't famous?"

"Well, putting aside the fact I'm _slightly under_ twice your age, fat, ugly, have bad teeth, am a total loser, and descended from a different species... no."

"Why not? And... an hour a day in the gym and a good dentist would sort you out, not that you need it _that_ badly."

"You were drunk."

"Isn't that how most people end up having sex?"

"Probably, but most people never grow up. Reproduction is for adolescents. There's more to life than endless bouts of drinking, shagging and fighting."

Alice looked genuinely impressed, which pleased Will - if she hadn't understood that, she wasn't the person he thought she was, and not worthy of his adulation. Will pulled back the duvet, sensing he was about to overcook. They took in the fresh air.

"So you're celibate? Like a monk – a mad monk!"

"And I'm a vampire. And I must say you look _very_ tasty."

"Nah, I taste of lemons."

"I like sucking lemons."

"Dry, shrivelled, wrinkly old lemons covered in puss?"

"Maybe I'll give it a miss."

"You must want sex sometimes." Alice had a bone and was not about to let it go.

"Yes of course. Believe it or not, I can control my libido. It's called _being a grown-up_."

Alice mused. She thought she was mature, but Will was positively antique. "You must have will power, Will, not to have tried it on last night. I was vulnerable."

"What makes you think I wanted to try it on with you?"

Alice, for the first time, tasted defeat. "Oh, OK. Sorry. I guess I'm not Anna Faris, or Sarah Michelle Gellar," she looked around, "or ... _Christina Aguilera_??"

"She's covering some flaky paint... I'm not sure you get it."

"We get flaky paint."

Will laughed involuntarily. Few people had the gift, basically because he was always the wit. It was one of his few redeeming features and probably the only reason he got invited to dinner parties these days.

"If you really want my opinion ..." Will began.

"I do."

"First, physical age doesn't matter to me, as long as the girl is younger."

"Sexist!"

"Women mature quicker. It's a biological fact."

"Sexist pig. Go on."

"I think a man and a woman can be close, physically and emotionally, without the man feeling he needs to stick his dick in her."

"Crude, but fair point."

"If courtship were a degree course, then sex should come after the ceremony, not on freshers' day."

"You wanna wait four years to dick me?"

Will laughed again. She was his ideal woman, barring the age, size, looks and fame stuff.

"There are three-year courses."

"I don't have your will, Will."

"I'm not sure what your point is, but – hypothetically – let's say I wanted to make love to you. I couldn't be sure if I was making love to the person, or the persona. You're famous, and my infatuation might be based on a lie. It wouldn't be fair on either of us. Not that you'd want me, but, as I said – _hypothetically_."

Alice listened intently. It was the first time she'd heard Will talk so sincerely and openly, and she believed him. He really was an odd guy, but compelling company.

"You're infatuated with me?! Aww, sweet."

Will looked and felt uncomfortable. "Err, that was a slip of the tongue."

"Freudian?"

"Don't judge me. I'm not just a fan."

"I know that silly - I'm flattered. And I think you're very special. I don't jump into bed with all my fans y'know."

"You didn't exactly _jump_ into my bed. How many fans _have_ you slept with?"

"Ten."

"Fair enough."

"None like you."

"I guessed that."

"I mean... you're a man." Alice wrinked, and blushed, and squirmed for added effect.

Will was intrigued, if baffled.

"OK, fess up."

Alice, for once, looked genuinely uncomfortable. "Not ten. Not fans - not really. And not men."

"Ah, so you're not attracted to men. That explains why you like _me._ " It made sense to Will.

"Penetration, to put it crudely," Alice was stuttering, blushing and squirming more, "is symbolic of power. It doesn't make me feel loved. Not that I've tried it."

"My point exactly. And in your position, I'd say any man penetrating you would be doing it for the high, for kicks, for power - but not for love."

"Cynical, but possibly true."

"I know men. I am one. They think with their dicks. Period."

"So what does that make you?"

"The exception that proves the rule." Will was on a roll.

"I can't figure out if you're full of shit."

"You will."

"What, figure out you're full of shit?" Alice's eyes sparkled, even if her voice was flat.

"We're all full of shit. We all lie, hustle, con and trick other people. It's human nature, we need to feel we've beaten somebody. We used to do it with spears, swords and guns. Now we wage war with our dicks and our minds... and money."

"I see." Alice sort of didn't not understand.

"I'd rather we went back to spears, but there you are. It was simpler then."

Alice mused, but her mind was full of incomplete thoughts.

"I'm not sure what I've learned from this discussion."

"Nothing. I told you how I am - you can take my word for it, or you can work it out for yourself. Look, it's just me. Most people are very happy indulging their base, animal instincts, greed and selfishness, and blissful ignorance." He added with a wink, "Most people don't have planet-sized brains."

Alice thought his probably was that size, and she felt a little intimidated. _She_ was used to being the _brainy_ one.

"I should probably sleep on it."

"Now?"

"Why not. We've got a hot date tonight, with a mad monk."

Alice started to roll, stopped and stared into Will's eyes. It was like looking into the eyes of a helpless - possibly wounded – baby animal. She stroked his stubbly, baby badger face.

"You growing a beard?"

"Should I?"

"I'll sleep on it."

Alice edged closer and held Will's chin. She kissed him gently. Will decided that she had the sweetest, softest lips he'd ever tasted. Alice pulled back and studied Will's dazed expression. The wounded animal had been revived, but was under the influence of a powerful narcotic. She rolled over and lay with her back to Will.

"Cuddle."

Will obeyed.

## Chapter Twelve

Alice crawled quietly over the top of her dozing friend. She'd slept very soundly last night, and an hour's cat-nap had revived her sufficiently. It was mainly because of Will's heart-felt admissions that she'd needed to rest her spinning head a second time. She figured from the snoring and the sallow expression, he needed another hour at least. She crept downstairs and hunted out some lunch. Settling on a ' _go! noodle_ ' in preference to cornflakes and dried soup, she fished a tea bag from a recycled coffee jar. _Can't be any worse than the coffee._

Faithfully following the instructions on the side of the plastic container, Alice poured boiling water to the line and waited. After a minute, she stirred the congealing mass with a fork. _Looks kinda plasticky_ she thought, before hooking out a small plasticky object. She read the ingredients, then the instructions again: 1 - Remove sauce sachet. _Oh._

Alice slumped in the plush, blue velour cushions and flicked the remote. _Not her again. Wonder if they found Zelda?_

Ellie chirped up. "And finally, a happy ending to one story. The Tottyford nuns have been given the all-clear by COC, err, that's the Crustacean Observation Committee, and had their stained robes returned. A spokesperson for the nuns said they were just delighted to get their habits back, even if they _were_ filthy."

Alice didn't flinch. This was an odd country, and she'd just have to get used to it. She took a sip of tea, and spat it forcefully into the mug, spraying Will's coffee table. _What the...?_ She peered into the mixture of saliva and what looked like muddy green pond water. _It's green._ If she was going to stay here another day, she'd need to go shopping. She considered returning to her hotel, but despite its obvious advantages she knew she'd be happier here – for now. Will had aroused something from deep within her psyche, but she wasn't sure what, or if it might have any harmful long-term effects.

She pulled open the netbook and searched for Will. Apart from one result on page two, pointing at an electronic book, there was nothing that seemed related specifically to him. A couple of social networking sites had looked promising, but now she'd met him she realized from the photos that it was a different Will. _What sort of person isn't Googleable?_ She knew he spent a lot of time on the net, but there were no pointers, no photos. _I wonder if that's his real name?_ She knew where he lived because he'd written to her, but it might still be a pseudonym. She looked around and spotted his wallet under the table. _Dare I? He won't mind._

Alice picked up the brown leather wallet and undid the stud fastener. It unfolded into three sections, and was crammed with plastic cards – bank cards, credit cards, loyalty cards, motoring cards and a library card. She counted three credit cards as well as the bank card, but didn't wonder how her impoverished friend had managed to acquire them. There was no cash, only a few out-of-date vouchers to use in stores. There was a window section with a driving licence and she took the card out. The stubbly face in the photo was definitely Will and the name was the one she knew him by: William John Stephens.

Alice carefully put the wallet back where she'd found it and stood, scanning the room. She knew about the books and the DVDs. There was a rack full of vinyl albums below the audio equipment and a case full of CDs. The television and Hi-Fi were good quality, and the speakers, she'd remembered, were crystal clear. She crouched and read the name, written in gold on black. _Tannoy._ It wasn't one she was familiar with. Around the walls were photos, and she recognized many of the faces. The ones she didn't know by name were still clearly actors or show-business types. There did not appear to be a single picture of anyone who wasn't famous. Dominating one wall was a huge map which was very detailed and coloured, with mostly purples, green, orange and yellow. There was no title, but in the centre were two words written in capitals that stood out slightly: _Dartmoor Forest._

Alice looked again at the books. At least twenty bore the name _Dartmoor,_ and she guessed from titles containing words like _moor_ and _hill,_ and from the pictures, the number of volumes related to that place was nearer thirty. Many appeared to be novels, and words like _legend, mystery, ghost_ and _murder_ appeared frequently. The top shelf held books with similar themes from other locations, and what appeared to be a comprehensive set of works based on _Buffy The Vampire Slayer._

Alice was confused. It seemed the more she learned about Will, the less she understood. Why did a man of his age and intellect plaster his walls with pictures and posters of celebrities? He was clearly educated, well-raised, not _bad_ looking, not destitute, very funny, thoughtful and caring - and yet apparently with no close friends or family. He'd make a fabulous friend, but he wouldn't be an ideal date for one of the hundreds of social events she enjoyed every year. What would her friends and family think if she took home a man like Will? Why was she even thinking like this? Why was she even here?

Alice sat and chewed her lip. She came here to find a silly amulet that she hoped would stop her ageing and fix her teeth. She didn't like the way she'd aged already - losing the thin, muscular frame and flat belly that most active teenagers exhibit - and she was reluctant to open her mouth in public. But she felt ridiculous. _Will must think me ridiculous._ She contemplated walking out and calling a cab. She could run away from all this and Will would never find her – that had been her plan anyway, once she'd satisfied her curiosity. She picked up Will's tobacco tin and although she'd only ever smoked once or twice for a film part, she really craved one now. She couldn't roll her own, however. _Probably just as well_.

Alice was worried. For many years she'd been in total control of her own life. She was successful and loved by millions. But people like Will loved her – and he surely could find better things upon which to focus his numerous talents. She felt guilty for making people like Will love her. It was her image, not her, that people worshipped. She was a worthless fake. But she loved acting, and she was the best at it. Why should she feel guilty about that? _This is crazy. Pull yourself together, Alice._ She remembered the previous night, and laughed to herself. Will could make a fortune from a kiss-and-tell story, and to be honest she didn't care. Maybe she should encourage him to do that; maybe she could make him hate her and she could walk away with a clear conscience. She could even embellish the story, and 'admit' what a fantastic lover he was. She could recover from the scandal, and Will would make enough to keep him in beer and baccy for a few years. He could write another book, and she'd help him promote it - she knew the right people.

_No, it won't work. Will loves me - the fool. I don't need this._ Alice prepared herself and stomped up the stairs. She hoped that'd wake him but Will was snoring happily, until the cold water hit his face.

"What the...?!"

"Wake up you bastard!"

"What?! What? Is it breakfast time?"

"I hate you!"

"Jesus Christ, it's only breakfast."

Alice punched his arm.

"Fuuuuck, that really hurt."

"Why are you doing this?"

Will had tears in his eyes, or maybe it was the water. Alice had tears in _her_ eyes.

"Have you been crying?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"You!"

It's fair to say Will was extremely confused.

"I'm extremely confused."

Alice collapsed on top of him and sobbed. Will, unable to move, tried to pat her back but the pat didn't quite reach. He decided to take control, before one of them drowned, or insulted the other so badly they'd waste a day trying to make up for it. Pushing her off, he tried to cuddle her but her flailing arms landed a few blows - including one that fell a little below the belt.

"I don't want you touching me!"

The sentiment was familiar to Will, and normally, he'd gladly refrain from touching. For once in his life he decided to make a bold, adult decision, so he used his superior weight and strength to force his cuddle on her. Alice accepted her fate, and curled up in the embrace.

"Whatever it is, I'm sorry. Please don't hit me in the nuts again."

Alice hit him in the leg instead.

"That's... err... better." Will winced - she was still landing serious blows.

Gradually her sobbing became intermingled with broken laughter.

"Did I really hit your nuts?"

"Yes."

"Did it hurt?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Alice sat up and rubbed her palms across her cheeks. Will passed her a tissue. She lay back down and told Will everything that was on her mind, and Will thought it was a lot – even by his standards.

"I feel awful Alice. I'm so sorry?"

"Huh? Were you listening to me?"

"Yes."

" _I_ fucked up. I fucked _you_ up."

Will laughed. " _Au contraire_ my little flower. There has been no fucking - up or down."

"I'm serious."

"Alice, I'm a grown man. My life is generally shit. You've make it a little bit bearable - or sometimes, a lot - in the short time you've been here. That's all there is to it - nothing more, nothing less. Your life is your own, and mine is mine. If they cross – great. If they don't - no sweat. Do you have a problem with that?"

Alice had her answer ready after _bearable_ but let Will finish his speech. "No, no problem. I'm a dork."

"Every man, woman and child on the planet thinks those things at some point in their life. Kings, queens, presidents, popes, dictators, rock stars - even Hollywood actors. It's called _being human_. Humans _are_ silly."

"I don't wanna be human, I wanna be like you."

Will wasn't quite sure how to take that.

"Well, you need a magic amulet, a quest, and a guide."

"Will you be my guide?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Alice sat up and Will smiled, glad they were still friends. He decided they should be re-introduced, and held out a hand.

"Please allow me to introduce myself, hope you guessed my name."

Alice shook his hand, but looked puzzled.

" _Sympathy for the Devil_ , Rolling Stones."

"You're the Devil?"

" _I was around when Jesus Christ had his moment of doubt and pain._ "

"That was the worse Mick Jagger impression, _ever_."

"Careful, don't forget who you're talking to."

"Am I going to Hell?"

"That can be arranged. But I have an agreement with him up there." Will pointed at the ceiling.

"God is in your attic?"

"Aye." Will switched, for no particular reason, to a pirate.

"So to get to heaven, I just need to climb your loft ladder?

"Aye. Any time you want. I can arrange an open-ended invitation."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr Devil."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Alice. May I say, this is the best day of my life. _And I've been around, a long, long time."_

Alice put a pillow over Will's mouth. "Stop singing!"

Will obeyed.

## Chapter Thirteen

The Rover swept into the car park and pulled up. Will turned to Alice and asked her again, "Sure you wanna do this?"

"Yep. My first English pub. Gotta be done."

"OK, but remember the names."

"I'm Brittany and you're Murphy. Sounds daft to me."

Will was not good with names and could only think of his favourite actress, whom he mourned greatly. "Correct. Murphy _can_ be a first name."

Will was, as ever, prepared for the worst. They might not recognize her immediately, but if they caught her name they might put two and two together. He told her he'd play the game and she could call him Murphy, but he figured if he had to hit somebody it would be best they didn't have a name that would give the police a lead.

Will led Alice to the door of the Black Rabbit public house and held it open. Alice sidled past, stopping to read the sign: _Beware of the Rabbit._ She laughed and looked at Will with incredulity. "Are they serious?"

"Totally."

"Ho-K."

Will was in luck - the bar was clear. He had planned to stash Alice in a dark corner and get all the drinks himself. The barmaid was waiting for them.

"Evening." Barmaid smiled.

"Evening," replied Will.

"Hi," chirped Alice.

"What can I get you?"

"Pint of Otter and ..." He looked at Alice.

"Bottle of lager, cold, please."

"Any preference? Glass?"

"No, yes."

"Oh, and a menu please." Will was hungry.

Drinks in hand, they looked around the bar and chose a seat in a corner that was partially hidden behind a large, plastic weeping fig. They made themselves comfortable, Will sitting as close as possible to his precious package. Alice scanned the room. She had never seen so many wooden beams – on the walls, on the ceiling, above the fire, on the floor, across the windows – and there were pictures and plastic knick-knacks filling every available space.

"This is cosy."

"Yeah, not too bad. Bit fake, plaster beams, bit bright." Will preferred real beams – ones that were part of the structure and not just for show – and the light was too bright, highlighting the stained, cream-coloured walls and ceiling.

"At least the beer's cold."

"Mine isn't."

"Can I try the Otter pee?"

"Sure." Will passed the glass and she took a sip, followed by a gulp.

"Steady! If you want a pint, I'll get you one."

"I'm good." She handed back two-thirds of a pint.

"Well, a productive day I think. We slept together, had a fight, bought some more wine and beer, found a dead starfish, and saw a steam engine. What do you want to eat?"

"Umm... salad?"

"Not your traditional pub food in this area - might be a bit manky."

"Manky?"

"Foul, smelly, rotten."

"Err OK, well maybe a burger."

"Salad with that?"

"You just said ..."

"Well they usually serve it as a side dish."

"You're a dork."

"Careful, I can cancel that agreement with God, any time."

"Bastard. I can cancel your balls, any time. I know a few tricks."

"I'm sure you do, but I wouldn't advertise it."

"Huh?"

" _Whores_ do tricks."

"Oh ... I really must learn the language. I thought people who use whores were tricks."

"Not here. I'll order." Will leapt to the bar and waved the menu at the barmaid, who was arranging slices of fluffy lemon on a green paper plate.

"Two burgers, fries, and side salad, please."

"Be about ten minutes, sir."

"OK."

Will returned to find the beer in his glass had evaporated by another third. He turned and waved at the barmaid, "And another pint of Otter, please."

OK luv, I'll bring it over."

Will nodded and rejoined Alice, who was looking drunker than when he left her.

"If you pass out in Gidwell, don't expect me to carry you back to the car."

"I need to be drunk."

"I have that effect on women."

"Evidently."

They were soon joined by the barmaid carrying Will's pint, "There you are, sir." She looked at Alice, her eyes scanning the face. "Don't I know you?"

"Err, no, sorry, don't think so. _Murphy,_ what time is it?"

"It's eight-fifteen, _Brittany_."

"Thanks _Murphy_."

"No problem, _Brittany_."

The barmaid looked at them, thinking either they were out on day-release from the local loony bin or they were foreigners. "Yes, well I'll be back shortly with your food." She turned and tutted "Grockles" under her lemony breath.

"I'm sorry about my little _episode_ this morning."

"Please, there's nothing to be sorry about."

"I don't want to hurt anybody."

"Me?"

"Well, yes, you."

"My feelings for you won't change, regardless of what you do. So do what makes you happy, not what you think is best for me – and that applies to all relationships."

"You're very err, pragmatic."

"I see things as they are, and don't try to change them to fit with my beliefs."

"I think that's what I said."

"Sorry, yeah. Too many people try to live their lives according to what they _think_ other people want, instead of just getting on with it. I care deeply for you, but I don't expect you to change anything just because I told you, nor will it change my attitude toward you."

"I care about you, too. You're so easy to get along with - I feel I can relax around you."

"You were _very_ relaxed last night."

Alice blushed, and physically stopped herself apologizing again by chewing her fist.

"The main thing is, talk to me if you have an issue. I won't judge you, or think any less of you."

"Thanks, _Murphy_."

Will turned to see the barmaid hovering with two plates. "Here we are, Murphy, is it, and Brittany. Enjoy your meal."

They tucked into a tasty burger, cold wrinkly fries, and a rather insipid salad.

"We don't have to go tonight." Alice was finding the prospect of being tipsy more appealing than standing in a cold, dark, haunted ruin.

"We might was well get it over with."

"Yeah, you're right." Alice thought of the alcohol stashed in Will's car - it would taste better after an adventure. She was keen to get acquainted with Betty, as well as renew her acquaintance with Bob. "I need to pee."

Will's heart filled with dread. " _Pee_ , in a grotty pub loo?"

"I gotta go."

"OK, just don't touch anything."

Alice had spotted the sign earlier and headed for the door. She stopped to ask the barmaid something which had been bothering her.

"Do you have a rabbit?"

"Oh, yes dear."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Well, le's jus' say, you don't wanna look'ee in the eye."

The barmaid winked and turned to serve a couple of rustics. Alice wondered why the barmaid had suddenly developed an accent, and what situation she could find herself in where her only option might be to look a killer-rabbit in the eye. She approached the ladies' WC with apprehension. There was a sign that read _No Rabbits_ along with a silhouette of a bunny behind a red circle, with a red diagonal line across it. _This is a strange country._ Inside, she was attacked only by a startling red and black colour scheme, which she supposed might possibly be intended to mask dirt and blood. She saw no creatures of any form, although was disturbed to see a pile of small, round black objects in a corner of the grubby floor.

"Pees?"

"Excuse me?!" Alice was rather taken aback by the personal nature of the question.

"I think they're peas. I expect the rabbit brought them in. Look like they've been there a while, don't they?"

"Err, yeah." Alice smiled politely at the little old lady with a brush, who had crept in after her. She assumed it took the old dear a few weeks to sweep the entire premises. She leapt into a stall and plastered the shiny black seat with shiny grey toilet paper, then tried valiantly to hover, remembering what Will had told her.

Pees successfully completed, and peas safely contained in the old dear's dustpan, Alice swiftly washed her hands in the icy cold water, wiped them on a dozen or so sheets of green paper towel, and exited the cave of garish gloom. She was relieved to see Will had bought her another beer, as she was getting a taste for the soothing liquid and quite enjoyed the side-effects. She'd become frustrated at having to remain sober and coherent all her life, afraid to tarnish her image. Will didn't see her image, he saw _her -_ and she was getting very comfortable in her role as his drinking buddy and adopted daughter - a combination she would, three days previous, have found rather perverse.

She'd failed to put that thought aside when she rejoined Will. "Hey pervert, miss me?"

Will was not unaccustomed to the tag. "Of course I missed you. I had to pay for the drinks."

"I'll make it up to you."

"Promises, promises."

Will looked around the public bar, which had slowly filled, and he was feeling uneasy. He thought he recognized a couple of bumpkin-types sat at the bar. One of them must have felt Will's eyes burning into his neck, for he turned and nodded, raising his glass in salute. Will quickly shifted his attention to a beer mat, turning it over and reading all three words very slowly. He balanced the beer mat on the edge of the table, and aligned his flattened fingers underneath. With a swift, sharp, upward blow, the mat somersaulted in the air and was snapped in the grip of Will's thumb and fingers before it had finished rising.

"Neat trick." Alice correctly guessed that was the necessary response.

"I can do it with more, a dozen, if we had them."

"Want me to fetch some?"

"Nah, it's OK."

Alice noticed Will's fidgeting. "Do you want to go?"

"May as well, we have a half-hour drive."

They rose and shuffled past a group of women dressed as Playboy bunnies who'd sat at the table next to them. _Rabbits,_ thought Alice, sensing a theme. Will was trying not to attract the attention of his rustic antagonists, and thought he'd slip by quietly, sideways with his back to them. He bumped into a bunny who squealed, and he turned to apologize. He caught antagonist number one, who had been following his progress.

"Alright bay? Look Terry, it's that lad we caurt cummin up Nances Passage."

"Oh arr, so tis."

Alice, like most of the bar's punters, heard every word. She gave Will a look which turned his blushing face an even deeper shade of beetroot.

Will smiled grittily at the tittering twits, and ushered Alice toward the door.

"Who's Nancy?"

"Err, just some prostitute."

"Oh, that's OK then."

Alice pictured a foursome - or maybe there were more - of Will, his scruffy friends, and a hooker. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

"I came up her passage after I met you in Satan's Crack, and those two were there. Nothing to tell." Will was a little flustered and afterwards decided he could have chosen more words, better words, and words in a different order. He was trying to prise Alice through the exit, but she seemed reluctant.

"So you're not celibate? And you do it in public? With hookers?"

Will decided he needed a time out. "I have to pee, here's the key, let yourself in."

Alice wasn't entirely happy at being seen with a well-known local exhibitionist, or at being accused of entering Satan's Crack - whatever _that_ was. She reluctantly took the keys and turned to exit the pub. Her path was blocked by three young smoking men.

"Excuse me."

"Why luv, what ya done?" Tittering followed. "Are you American? Nice arse."

"Excuse me?! Can I get by, please."

"Don't I know you?"

"No, sorry, this is my first time here."

"Never mind darlin', we'll look after you." More tittering followed, and they closed in on her.

Alice was beginning to wish she'd given the pub thing a miss. She smiled, praying Will would return. He may be a pervert, but he was her best hope of exiting without having her ass groped.

"Alright, Brittany?"

Alice rolled her eyes upwards and thanked God.

"Oi mate, this your daughter?"

"No."

"Girlfriend?" Tittering, more of.

"No."

"Won't mind if we 'ave a go, then."

"I do mind. Fuck off." Alice was taken aback by the intensity, but rather glad Will had a manly side.

"No need for that, chap. Jus' 'avin a larf.

Will smiled his gritted-teeth smile and took Alice by the arm, pushing through the barricade.

"Oi watch it mate, you spilt me beer."

"Sorry." Will was through the hungry pack, and wasn't about to stop and wipe the spillage away.

"What you gonna do 'bout it?"

Will felt a hand flick the back of his head. He turned and glared, as evil a glare as Alice had ever seen. The lads were too drunk to recognize the danger.

"I said sorry. You should have moved when we asked. Please don't touch me again, as it will make me _very_ angry."

"Ooooo, Mr tough guy, you gonna turn green?" Inevitably, they tittered - a lot. The lad with beer on his arm slapped Will across the face with a cold, rough hand, slowly and deliberately, before standing back and tittering some more. Will's right arm unleashed in a split-second, forcing a flattened palm squarely into the nose of the irritant, who felt his nose smash and blood gushing across his face. His accomplices started toward Will, but the sobering sight of their friend with a broken, bloody face, told them Will's evil glare was a warning they ought to heed.

"Go on, try it." Will was more than happy to break their noses too, and if they didn't give him an excuse he'd probably do it just for the hell of it.

"Murphy, let's go. NOW." Alice smiled with tight lips and raised eyebrows, adding in a fair imitation of Cockney, "See ya, boys." She dragged Will backwards and opened the car door, pushing him in. Racing round the other side, she jumped in and slammed the door. "We need to talk."

Will started the car and roared out onto the main road. After five miles of silence he pulled into a lay-by.

"Nancy's Passage is the path where I first met you. They're just morons. I call it Satan's Crack."

"Oh, well, fine." Alice was relieved in a way, but it really wasn't what she wanted to talk about. "You broke his nose."

"So?"

"Don't you think you over-reacted?"

"No." Will was defiant.

"Well, I do."

"They were looking at you, and I know what they were thinking. _And_ he hit me first."

"He barely touched you, but that's not the point. And... what if he recognized me? It'll be in the news tomorrow. I have a reputation." She quickly realised Will had done it for that very reason, and the attention would be on him. "Sorry, no, that's unfair. Forget I said that."

"Look, you're not from round here. If in doubt, hit first. Wait for them to hit you, and it could be too late - one lucky blow and you're out cold, getting a kicking - brain damage. I've seen it happen. Not to mention I've already been concussed once this week." Will felt the lump on the back of his head, which was still sore. He was nevertheless troubled by Alice's predicament. "They won't remember you, and even if they did think you looked like someone famous, you must have people who can swear you were elsewhere."

Alice did, and anyway she could probably use a little scandal. She'd take whatever came her way, and deal with it. "Still, it seemed excessive. Couldn't you just restrain him?"

"Him, maybe. All three? No. And he could've had a knife."

"What if his friends had a knife?"

"Well, they'd think twice about using it on a psycho like me."

Alice accepted her friend's reasoning, but felt uneasy that she'd been the cause of the violence. This didn't happen at the parties she attended back in L.A. or New York. This was a strange country and it took some getting used to. She considered herself a girl of the world however, and supposed it could have been worse – such as if Will had walked away and got a knife in the back. She mulled over the potential outcomes of her encounter. Will _had_ done it to protect her, he _could_ have walked away and allowed her to be verbally and physically molested by a bunch of animals. She'd had some basic self-defence training and thought she could deal with nasty situations, but having been so close to the blood, beer and testosterone she started to doubt her ability. She would need to take the advanced class, or hang out with Will in a few more pubs.

"I guess I should thank you."

"No need. I'd have hit the twat anyway."

Alice allowed herself a laugh. "You're now officially my bodyguard. You passed the test."

"I did?"

"Yep."

"Trust me?"

"Totally. I feel safe knowing you're not a wuss." Alice was a little tingly, and beginning to imagine more dangerous and exciting situations Will could rescue her from. She held his arm, and kissed his cheek.

"You did the right thing, Batman. Let's go." She smiled. "Oh, and if you hit _me_ in the face, I'll break your arm. And cut your balls off. And your dick. I got some moves." She waved her arms and made high-pitched oriental noises.

"You were just waiting for me to mess up so you could jump in and save me, weren't you?"

"You got it. Let's go kill a monk."

"The monastery, then?"

"Let's start with a dead monk, and work our way up."

The Batmobile swept into the night, harmony having being restored between the two super-heroes.

## Chapter Fourteen

Alice was swigging beer. She was still a little shaken, and found comfort between Old Bob and Betty Stoggs. Will had bought a dozen bottles, as well as more wine, and some snacks for the night shift at Gidwell. It occurred to her she was becoming more streetwise, and it would be good experience for any future roles as a tough, spunky, fast-talking, witty-quipping, heavy-drinking anti-hero. If she started smoking and got a tattoo, she'd have the monopoly on those parts.

Will was looking for a place to park, closer to the footpath than last time. He didn't fancy battling through the head-high bracken field. He spotted a wooden post bearing half a sign, reading 'tpath' and deduced it was either written by a northerner or the 'foo' had been broken off, or eaten by a cow.

The adventurers suited up: boots and waterproofs, woolly hats and gloves, flask, beer, snacks and torches. Will had brought his camera kit in a backpack, hoping to capture something other-worldly, or Alice taking a pee in the bushes. Either way, it'd be something he could fall back on if he fell on hard times, or when Alice stopped returning his emails. If he could get a murdering monk ghost and a peeing Alice in the same frame, that surely would be of interest to a wide range of magazine editors. If there was a rabbit in it, he'd have the local market sewn up, too.

"Towel?"

Alice hadn't given it a lot of thought. "Err, do we have to swim across a river?"

"You really should read more."

"About swimming, or towels?" Alice couldn't quite decide which of the two was the most essential reading for streetwise girls.

"A towel is about the most useful thing an interstellar hitch-hiker can have."

"Ummm... OK. I vaguely get it - that book?"

"You really should read it. I have the trilogy - all four of them."

"Isn't a tri ..." Alice saw no point in finishing her question. "OK, I will, Will." She was amused by double-wills.

Will packed two towels into his rucksack, and locked the car.

"Let's go, Catwoman."

"Isn't she Batman's enemy?"

"You wanna be Robin?"

"Nah. Lead the way."

The daring duo headed in the general direction the broken finger sign had indicated, and after a few yards picked out a fairly well-worn path through the wet grass. The air was heavy with moisture, chilly, but very still. Will was grateful for not having to endure wind and rain, the two most common weather characteristics in this part of the country. He hoped it would be warmer lower down by the wooded area that sheltered the chapel. They advanced, torches in hand, though the area was flooded with unusually bright moonlight.

Alice was enchanted. "Full moon."

"Looks like it."

"Are there were-wolves round here?"

"Only were-rabbits. Don't look them in the eye."

"Of course, I'm not stupid."

"Stop."

"What?"

"Look."

"Where?"

"There?"

"Where?"

Will pointed with his torch, the beam catching flashes of white against the black backdrop to the woods. The flashes disappeared into the undergrowth.

"Did you see that?"

"Yeah, what was it?" Alice was a little freaked.

"Too big to be a rabbit."

"Thank God. We'd have no chance against a rabbit that size."

"Could be a sheep, or a cow."

Alice could handle sheep and cows, so they continued into the dark forest. Shaded from the moonlight, their torches were only good for illuminating the path. They kept their eyes on the ground, trying to ignore the blackness and occasional rustling coming from all around them.

"Are there wild animals here?" Alice had visions of bears and mountain lions, or possibly raccoons.

"Nah, nothing that would bother us. There are sheep here for sure, maybe a stray cow or horse. The only wild animals are rabbits, foxes, badgers, mink, stoats, weasels, squirrels, deer, rats, mice, voles, shrews, toads, frogs, owls, moths, spiders, lions, woodlice, hedgehogs, ants ..."

Alice interrupted, "Did you just say _lions_?"

"Oh, well they're very shy."

"Oh, fine." Alice had stopped dead in her tracks. "Are you serious?"

"Well, there have been sightings."

"When?"

"Recently."

"By whom?"

"Lots of... err, only a few people. Me. I saw one. Not here, miles away. _Miles_."

"You're teasing me I HOPE."

"Of course. They wouldn't come here, unless there was a ready food supply and thick cover."

"Like sheep in a wood?"

"Err..."

"You ARE messing with me, aren't you Will?"

"They're probably hibernating."

"Lions don't hibernate. Tell the truth, Will."

"Well there are reported sightings of big cats, like panthers, all over this county. It's possible they're abandoned pets. They probably don't live long."

"Long enough to eat me?"

"You're too scrawny, they'd go for me."

"You're old and gristly, they'd want tender meat."

The journey to the chapel continued, along with a debate about whether lions prefer young, slender humans or old, fatty ones. Each was convinced they were the preferred prey. Will told Alice that if they were attacked by a lion, or a rabbit, he would definitely throw himself on top of Alice and thus get eaten first, and he would be enough for any lion. Alice said that he'd squash her flat, simultaneously disabling her and tenderizing her meaty bits. Will tried bargaining with the lion, but she didn't buy it. They agreed the best course of action would be to throw beer bottles and shout 'rabbit, rabbit' whilst vigorously hopping and mating.

They came to the clearing and aimed their torchlight at the chapel, which was very dark and very creepy.

"Where shall we sit?"

"Behind the railings." Will figured they'd slow a lion down, if not a rabbit. He found a pile of rocks that wasn't covered in slime or smelling of urine and carefully unfolded a towel over them. They sat, squashed together, facing the corner where Will thought the well might have been.

"Beer?"

"Absolutely."

They supped on a dark, sweet, fruity ale. Will unpacked his camera and attached a lens. He fired a few test shots, aiming them at every corner of the site, the flash briefly filling their eyes with a plethora of weird and threatening shapes that Alice really didn't like. Will peered at the playback screen to see if he'd caught a ghost. All he'd caught was blurred night, for the camera's auto-focus had failed to lock on to anything solid.

"Hmmm."

"What?"

"Looks like a rabbit."

"What?"

"Two blurry eyes. Could be a mink. Or a hedgehog."

"Bottle tops." Alice was pointing her torch at a couple of metal bottle tops, "Presumably all that remains of the last ghost-hunting party."

"Oh, yeah." Will put down his camera and wrapped an arm round Alice's shoulders.

For 40 minutes the daring duo sat still and quiet, whispering and supping beer. Their eyes were becoming accustomed to the meagre light filtering through the overhead canopy. Their ears, no longer burdened with the hectic sounds of modern life, were picking out tiny snippets of woodland life - a rustling here, a hoot there, strange barking sounds, tiny high-pitched growls, and occasional low-pitched growls. There were no roars, and Alice said that was a bad sign because lions don't roar when they're stalking prey.

"Shh, what's that?" Alice was spooked.

Will listened, cupping his ears and rotating his head. "I hear it." He picked his camera up slowly and pointed it at the bushes where he detected a rummaging and rustling. Straining his eyes, he could see no movement in the patchwork of black and black-ish vegetation. He half-pressed the shutter button to try and focus, but the lens motor whirred hopelessly.

"Shh, you'll scare it."

"Scare _it?_ What about me?" Will cut the whirring and listened. "Point your torch over there."

Alice shone the beam onto a bush, and shuddered. "It moved."

Will followed the beam of light and the whirring motor stopped, accompanied by a beep. He took the shot and a flash of light threw into vision a huge black and white face, with black holes for eyes. The beast reacted to the unexpected intrusion and crashed through the undergrowth, branches snapping and cracking, thunderous footsteps echoing off the chapel wall. The forest was filled with haunting screams and yelps, the beast apparently mocking the insignificant humans. Dozens of smaller animals, who had been quietly foraging, shouted warnings or shrieked in fear, as the blood-curdling cacophony built to a level that would surely wake any dead monk. Alice cowered behind Will, who had been too slow to cower behind Alice.

After what seemed like an eternity they realized the thundering and crashing sound was diminishing, and the beast was clearly headed away from them. Alice opened her eyes and looked over Will's shoulder. Her senses had been violated and she struggled to make sense of her surroundings.

"Can I open my eyes yet?" Will had his head in his lap.

"Yes."

Will sat up and looked at Alice, whose terror-scarred expression mimicked his own. Will held the camera in trembling hands and flicked to playback. He wasn't sure he wanted to see the monster, but he also wanted to make sure it was correctly exposed.

"It's a bloody zebra!"

"What? A zebra? Oh no, is it hurt?"

"Not a _bloody_ zebra, a bloody zebra." Alice decided Will was traumatized and held his arm.

"We should check it's OK."

"You bloody check it's OK."

Alice got the message, eventually. She laughed, then relieved herself of a huge breath. "That was scary for a minute."

"Scary? Minute?" Will emptied a bottle of beer into his neck.

Alice laughed. "Poor thing, it was petrified."

" _I_ was bloody petrified"

"Don't be wet." She stuck her tongue out and Will photographed it. It was blurred and over-exposed.

"There might be a reward." Will was determined to profit from the experience.

"We must report it. I think... aaaaaaaaeeeieiiiieeee!!" Her scream made the zebra's sound like a small, hoarse mouse. "Monk!" Behind Will she'd spotted a pale grey man with a bald head, seemingly buried to his waist in the ground. He was straining to free himself, and had his eyes firmly fixed on Alice. They were burning, red eyes, eating into her soul. She was paralysed.

Will swung round and caught a fleeting glimpse of the grey monk, but when the monk saw Will it screamed and sank into the ground. Will looked at Alice, and together they agreed, "Time to go."

Will threw his camera in the bag and hooked it over his shoulder, then grabbed Alice's cold hand. They ran, headed for the light at the edge of the forest, barging through branches and briars with no sense of the whipping and scratching across their exposed hands and faces. Will could move quickly when the occasion demanded it, his large heavy frame easily pushing all but the thickest branches out of their path, and Alice was no weight to drag along. By the time they reached the field, Alice was stumbling.

"Slow down!"

Will slowed, looked back, and decided it was safe to stop.

"I said slow, not stop." Alice overtook him, her young legs bounding effortlessly up the hill. Will fought to control his breathing before setting off after her, his legs tiring as they climbed steeper. Alice reached the roadside bank and held out a hand, which Will gratefully took. Clambering over the grassy mound, they easily located the Rover on the moonlit grey tarmac, and dashed towards the metal sanctuary. Will fumbled in his pocket and found the remote, unlocking the doors. The orange flash was a welcome sight, and the interior light even more so as it indicated the car had not been occupied by any ghosts, lions or axe-murderers.

Together they flung open the doors and fell in, slamming them shut and pressing down the lock buttons. Will turned the key and prayed for the glow plugs to work quickly. The engine fired and he sped off, oblivious to the dark.

"Lights, Will."

"Ooops."

"The lights flashed on and he floored the throttle pedal, sliding the gears into second and then third within a few seconds of each other, hitting sixty before changing into fourth. Fifth came at seventy and he eased off, suddenly aware of the sharp left-hand bend. Alice was wishing he'd drive faster. The Rover wallowed like a whale on a skateboard, but the tyres gripped and Will accelerated out of the corner, maintaining sixty-five until they entered the outskirts of Saltymouth. The muted orange landscape was a welcome sight and Will slowed to just above the speed limit, aware of the potential police presence. He'd had an eventful night, and didn't really want to negotiate the 'and where have you been tonight, sir?' line of questioning. Plus, he'd been drinking - although he felt as sober as the soberest judge who ever lived in Soberton.

Dipping down the long steep hill towards the town, he relaxed and pointed to his left.

"School."

"Oh, I remember." Alice acknowledged the bearing, and felt safe now she knew she wasn't too far from home - Will's home, which she would gladly call hers from now on. "Well, I've had a lovely night."

Will sniggered, then guffawed. Alice followed suite. Hysteria gripped them and they pulled into a lay-by to prevent Will driving into a hedge. It was hidden from the road, quiet, and offered a moonlit view of the river estuary. Alice got out and leant on the barrier, taking in the view and the fresh, invigorating sea air. She sucked in a lungful, held it for three seconds, and exhaled. _Sweet._

Will was inhaling a hastily-rolled and rather wonky cigarette. He sidled up to Alice, careful not to pollute her air.

"You deserve it." Alice understood the need for comfort.

"I needed it."

Will sucked in the smoke and salty air, and reflected on his day. It had been the most exciting since Alice arrived, and that was saying something. He felt fulfilled, and that was a rare feeling for him. He stubbed out the cigarette and joined Alice in her cross-armed lean. Together they drunk in the atmosphere, and together they watched the moon slowly edging across the sky, leaving ripples of silver joyfully bobbing up and down across the wide expanse of deep, dark blue water.

"So, was that a monk, or have you laced my beer?"

"Looked like a monk to me. He didn't like you. Come to think of it, you scared him. What does that make you?" Alice's sparkling eyes ate into Will's.

Will grinned, " _Please allow me to introduce myself..._."

"Don't sing, you'll spoil it."

"Spoil what?"

"This."

Alice leaned toward Will and smothered his lips with hers. Their tongues danced briefly and their tummies said hello. Will held her tightly, stroking her hair and neck. Alice pushed him gently away.

"That's enough, you're getting excited."

"Too right!"

Alice smiled.

"So what was that for?"

"What?"

"Kiss. Tongues. Grabbing my ass."

"It was all I could think of to stop you singing." Alice regretted saying it immediately, spotting an evil glint in Will's eyes.

"... hope you guessed my naaaame."

## Chapter Fifteen

"Damn, I left my towel at the chapel." Will was rummaging in the back of the Rover.

Alice was waiting impatiently by the house door, doing a poorly choreographed, cross-legged jig accompanied by a series of facial contortions that most sentient beings would interpret as a sign of great discomfort.

"Will!"

"Hang on, the shopping's all over the place."

"I'm gonna wet my pants."

"Again?" Will smirked.

"Just give me the keys."

Will lobbed the keys at Alice, whose hands were clasped firmly between her legs. She glared, but wasn't about to start a fight when her bladder was threatening suicide. Bending down to scoop up the bundle, she made her feelings fairly clear.

"Asshole."

"Not right now, dear."

Alice fumbled with the lock. "Will!"

"No, you don't lift the handle to _unlock_ it."

"Stupid door." Alice flung the door open, darted inside and muttered more obscenities as she realized she needed to shut the front door before she could get into the bathroom. "Stupid house."

Will was grinning. "Don't forget to take your knickers off."

Alice smiled, not because she thought his remark funny but because _knickers_ was such an odd word. She let out a loud sigh as her bladder was finally able to relinquish the aftermath of three pints of strong ale. She rarely drank before she met Will, never dark beer, and she'd wanted to pee since just before a bloody zebra and a mad monk with conjunctivitis had scared the wits out of her. She'd done well to hold it in this long, and the relief she now felt eclipsed the relief of escaping a gruesome death.

"I'll need a change of clothes."

"Oh, you haven't...?"

"No, but some of us change daily, not weekly."

"You can wash them here if you want. I'm not driving to Broadford tonight."

"OK." Alice had no desire to leave the house, which was warm, dry, light, and free of wild animals and serial killers.

Alice joined Will, who was stocking the fridge with beer and wine. "Can I get a beer?"

"May I have a beer."

"If you want." Alice smiled.

"I meant ..."

"I know what you meant. I promise to study your peculiar brand of English harder."

"My brand? I'm English - this is England."

Alice laughed and stuck her tongue out. She didn't even have to tell him how easy he was to wind-up. Will responded with his tongue, with which he tried to assault her nose. Alice was too quick for him.

"You're so funny. Can I keep you?"

"As long as it's in the manner to which you've become accustomed." Will quite fancied being a kept man, especially if his keeper was a gorgeous, young, blond millionaire. He considered dropping to his knees and pleading, but decided to play it cool. Pleading was a last resort, and he'd refrain from playing that card for a day or two.

Alice looked around the kitchen, which had barely been used since she arrived – just the odd cup of odd coffee or pond tea. For a man who didn't cook much, he sure knew how to mess up a kitchen. The surfaces were strewn with empty jars, cartons, bottles and plates. She found the washing machine, crammed into a space between the oven and sink.

"Does it dry?"

"No. We can hang things on radiators." Will normally dried clothes outside, but at this time of year the meagre hours of sunshine and damp air meant that was a futile exercise and his solution was to avoid getting them wet too often - by not washing them too often.

"Are the radiators on?"

"No, but they heat-up quick."

It wasn't _very_ cold in his house, even without heating. He'd rather throw on an extra sweater than waste money on gas and electric.

"Do you have anything I can wear?"

"You won't need clothes when the heating's on."

"If you think I'm gonna sit here stark naked ..."

Will smiled and flicked his tongue. "You can borrow a shirt and shorts. I don't have any dresses, not in your size."

"OK, might as well do it now."

Will led Alice to his wardrobe - a teak and plywood, faux-deco, 1950s relic from his parents' house. It was crammed with all the clothes he possessed, and he picked out an unworn, neatly folded white T-shirt, and chequered blue/green boxers - which he'd worn only once because he generally liked to keep his dangly bits under control. Alice was happy with the choice, but seemed reluctant to change.

"I'd like some privacy."

Will had been waiting in anticipation of the pronunciation, and his patience was rewarded. "Priv-uh-see."

"It's pronounced _private_ , so it's _privacy_."

"It's from the Latin _privatus,_ and the French say _p_ _rivé._ "

"You _really_ need to get out more."

"How do you spell your middle name?" Will was on a mission.

"Huh?"

"Humour me."

Alice just wanted to change out of her damp, muddy, smelly clothes. She sighed, "Aitch-a-"

Will interrupted, satisfied with today's lesson. "OK, just checking. If you'd said _haitch_ I would've spanked your ass. Nothing makes me angrier than people who say haitch. They should all be shot."

Alice detected not a hint of jest, and grasped the opportunity, "Haitch-hey-"

Will swung a palm at her backside, but Alice was anticipating it and the momentum took him past her swerving body into the wardrobe. Alice howled. Will clumsily staggered to his feet and removed a pair of grey underpants from his head.

"I actually agree with that - apart from the shooting bit." Alice then tried unsuccessfully to smother her howling laughter.

"Good. Well, I'll leave you to it." Will grabbed a shirt and shorts for himself, thinking it'd be all he needed if the heating had to go on, and slunk downstairs. Alice, experienced in quick costume changes, was only ten seconds behind. "Err, priv-uh-see?"

Alice walked backwards up the stairs, her protruding tongue mocking Will. He quickly changed, realizing he'd forgotten underwear and the shorts were baggy. _Sod it._ He stuffed his clothes in the washing machine, and Alice, who'd been watching anyway and had already sneaked up on him, pushed past.

"Don't want you handling my privates. Or should that be priv-ets?" She forced her bundle of laundry in the drum.

Will tutted. "You need to spread them out a bit."

"Well, mom does most of my laundry."

"How old are you?"

"I'm a busy gal." She teased the garments apart, until Will was satisfied. "Right, you can turn it on. My mom ..."

"I got it," Will frowned - he was now talking like her, "I'll do it."

Alice left him in charge of the machinery and slumped in the sofa, suckling an Old Bob. She'd acquired a taste for the hoppy stuff - a fact that had not escaped Will. He opened a bottle of red.

"Not beer?"

"Not enough for both of us."

"Aww you're good to me. What's that?"

"Californian Zinfandel."

"Let me try."

Will reluctantly passed the glass, but held on tight to the bottle.

"Mmmm not bad, I could drink that."

"I've no doubt you could, but this is mine."

"Fight?"

"OK you win."

"You're no fun!"

"I've had a tough day. Make that three days, or is it four? Not even sure what day it is."

"Aww, have I messed up your boring life?"

"It needed messing up." Will smiled through tired eyes.

"Well, I expect a lot from my fans."

"I'm thinking of cancelling my membership."

"Shame, I only sleep with fans."

"It can wait 'til morning."

"Budge up, I want to stretch out."

"Would you rather I sat on the floor?"

"Yes."

"Tough."

Will budged up and Alice swung her legs onto his lap, her head on the cushioned velour arm. Will shifted so he could almost face her, and rested his legs on the table. It was quiet, and he enjoyed it. He also enjoyed looking at her legs, which he considered shapely. They looked smooth - the fine, fair hairs were barely visible even if she didn't wax them. The smooth, pale complexion was consistent from crotch to toe, and he remembered her saying she wasn't a sun worshipper. Will quite liked tanned skin, but he didn't like wrinkly old leather and thought she was sensible to avoid too much exposure.

Alice caught him staring. "What?"

"Nice legs."

"Thanks. You too."

"About the only part of me that hasn't aged."

"You're not _that_ old."

"You could've left out the _that_."

"Sorry - you're not old."

"I am."

"Dork." Alice stuck a foot in his midriff. "You're only as old as the woman you feel."

Will nodded - it was true. He felt 22 when he was feeling her, but when he wasn't, and thought deeply about the situation, he felt even older than his 44 years. It was a conundrum, and he knew he wouldn't always be feeling so in-tune with her. He stroked her tiny foot, marvelling at the complex shape and simple beauty.

"Mmm that's good." Alice shut her eyes and allowed him to gently massage her feet. He pushed his thumb into the sole of her foot, and guessed from her deep breathing and the occasional sigh, that she didn't mind. For ten minutes he worked his magic on her feet, his strong hands forcing the tiredness and tension away. She lay still and quiet, her soft, pink lips locked in a broad upward curve. Will slid a hand over her heel and squeezed the tendons. Sensing no objections, his palm cupped her calf. It was firmer than it looked, though not quite a dancer's, and he enjoyed pressing his fingertips into the muscle.

"Oh that's good, you should do this for a living." Alice squirmed and emitted a tiny squeal of delight, as if to back up her statement.

"Tell me when you've had enough."

"I will, Will."

Will lifted her legs and ran his fingers from her heel to the back of her knee, watching for a kink in her smile. There was no sign of discomfort, so he continued to explore the back of her thighs, which was something he'd been wanting to do since he met her. His fingers brushed the bottom of the shorts, and he toyed with the idea of slipping accidentally inside them.

"Out of bounds."

"I wasn't ..."

"I know, but you thought about it."

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't."

"I can read your mind."

Will had forgotten she could read his mind. _Witch._

Alice hadn't moved or opened her eyes, so he deduced it was not a serious breach of trust. Five minutes of leg stroking passed, and he'd done all he could from that position.

"If you want more, you'll have to move."

"I'm good."

"OK."

"I'll do you sometime." Alice was reading his mind again.

Will's eyes lit up. "My back. My back _really_ needs a massage." He suffered from constant pain and knotted muscle.

"OK, later. Promise."

Alice pushed her feet into Will's crotch and laid her arms across her belly. Will had never seen her so relaxed or felt so close to her, and he resisted the urge to move even though he was starting to feel discomfort in his back and legs.

"Comfortable?"

"Not really."

"Move."

"Where?"

Alice moved her legs apart and pointed to the gap. Will looked bemused.

"I can't fit in there."

"Boasting again?"

"I mean ..."

Alice got up. "You get comfortable and I'll fit in with you. Unless you want to go to bed."

"Gotta wait for the washing."

"Do it tomorrow."

"Can't leave it in the machine all night, it'll stink."

Alice had no idea if it would stink or not, but bowed to his superior knowledge of laundry. She got up and waited while Will positioned himself. He settled, lying with his legs outstretched and his back against the arm, which he bolstered with cushions.

"Where am I going?"

Will pointed gleefully to the gap between his legs, and Alice squeezed herself in, lying back with her head on his chest.

"Comfy?"

"Not as comfy as I was." She was content to use Will as a big, secure cushion and pleased when he wrapped his arms round her, but didn't want to let him know _how_ pleased. She wriggled and settled into his embrace.

"You've not said much since we got back." Will was thinking back to the apparition, wondering if it was a trick of the light, or a side-effect of the beer-and-fear concoction.

"Trying not to think too much."

"I don't believe in ghosts, but ..."

"I know. What did _you_ see?"

"Well, it was pale, greyish. It looked like a man, maybe a monk. It had red eyes. It seemed to be in a hole - I only saw the top half."

Alice shuddered with the realization that he'd seen exactly what she'd seen, and it wasn't just a trick of the light, or her over-active imagination. "Same here."

"So is that good or bad?"

"Good - I'm not nuts. Bad - there are ghosts. Good - there might be an amulet."

"I don't think he'd part with it, and what use is a ghostly amulet anyway?"

Alice hadn't thought of that. "I didn't think of that. Was he wearing it?"

"Don't remember."

"Maybe his spirit is in the amulet, which is buried underground."

"Sounds like a good reason not to take it. Unless you want to share your apartment with a murderous monk."

Alice didn't need a lodger, murderous or not. "He'd be a lousy house-mate. Bet he can't operate a washing machine"

Will tried logic. "We've both read the same stuff, so maybe we _did_ just imagine it."

"Was there anything about his eyes in the research?"

"Hmm, not sure."

"Why did we both see red eyes?"

"He died in a fire."

"Maybe." Alice had done enough thinking for tonight, and snuggled into Will.

"We have to go back."

"We will, Will. Tomorrow."

"In daylight."

"Absolutely."

"I need my towel."

"I need a cuddle."

"I can manage that, but don't fall asleep."

Alice snored.

"I know you don't snore."

"Shut up, and be quiet."

"Same thing."

Alice stuck her tongue out. Will tried to lick it with his but only succeeded in slurping over her nose, which Alice found neither amusing nor erotic. She wiped her nose and blew a kiss through puckered lips. Will spotted some slurp on her nose and wiped it away with a gentle stroke of his thick index finger. Alice took hold of his finger and licked it, before pushing into her mouth. She sucked it hard and opened her eyes in time to see Will's jaw drop open. She stared into his eyes as she teased him, then wrinked and withdrew it, smiling innocently.

"You're the Devil." Will thought she'd taken the game a suck too far.

" _You're_ the Devil, I'm all sweet an' innocent. Just fancied a lollipop."

"Devil Woman."

"Is that a lollipop in your pants?"

Will shifted uneasily, embarrassed. "You know what you are?"

"A bad girl?"

"P.T."

Alice had heard the expression, though no-one had called her a prick-tease to her face. She was secretly very flattered that men found her attractive, but rarely was the feeling mutual. She didn't really _fancy_ Will's body – not all of it anyway, though he had nice arms and legs - but she fancied his mind, and began to wonder if Will was the sort of guy she'd experiment with, if only temporarily. If she didn't care about his feelings so much she might have taken the game to the next stage, but she needed to be one hundred percent sure neither of them would regret it. It didn't stop her shifting her butt up onto his bulging shorts, and she imagined what _it_ would feel like inside her. She was comforted knowing Will would be up for it - if, and when, she was sure. She found her hand slipping under the waist of her shorts, and quickly withdrew it. She could - _would_ \- deal with that later.

"This is uncomfortable."

"Gee, make your mind up."

"I mean, being so close to.... but not quite... it makes me feel uncomfortable. Not to mention frustrated."

Alice smiled. She rolled over and lay on top of him, her thighs on his thighs, her belly on his, and she parted her legs to allow him some breathing space. "Is that better?"

"Hardly - now it can move around."

Alice giggled. "Shall we just fuck and get it over with?"

Will was a little uncomfortable with her plain talking. "No." He would have, gladly, but he figured her horniness was down to factors unrelated to her sexual desire or love for him.

"Do you want me to sort that out?"

"NO!" Will felt dirty now, and not only because he was in need of a shower. If there was to be any orgasmic action, it would need to be mutually agreed and mutually satisfying.

Alice had anticipated the answer, but not the forcefulness. "Sorry, I'm a bit mixed-up tonight."

"I know - it's fine. Cuddle?"

"Sure."

At that point, the whining from the spin dryer stopped and Will breathed a sigh of relief. In one minute, he'd have an excuse to break away from the temptress - something his weakening will power would struggle with. _Click._ "Washing's done." Will almost threw Alice onto her back, leapt up, adjusted his shorts, and gleefully pulled the damp clothing slowly from the drum.

Alice curled up on her side and slid a hand inside the baggy boxers. She was moist, but she'd known that. It felt good, but she knew it would feel better if the hand wasn't hers. "I'm off to bed, do you mind?"

Will didn't mind at all. He needed to cool off. "Fine by me. You can warm it up."

"Not sure it needs warming up." Alice visited the bathroom while Will carefully arranged the laundry on racks that attached to the radiators.

"Night." Alice didn't want Will to associate bed with anything other than sleeping - or she was trying to convince herself it meant nothing sexual need happen.

"Night." Will didn't want Alice to think he was planning to jump her.

Alice climbed the stairs and crossed the miscellaneous rugs scattered across the bedroom floor, enjoying the fluffy pile between her toes. She got into bed and snuggled under the covers, quickly realizing she was far too hot. _Maybe Will turned up the heat, to get me naked._ Whatever the reason, she couldn't sleep with a shirt on. She pulled off her top and snuggled back under the duvet. _Darn it. Might as well go all the way._ She pulled down her boxers and flung them over the end of the bed, where Will wouldn't spot them. Stretched out on her tummy, grinding her hips into the mattress, she thought how very comfortable it was without clothes restricting her movements, or making her sweaty bits more sweaty. _Maybe I should become a nudist. Or is it naturist?_

She was so comfortable, she didn't really care what Will thought, felt, or got an eyeful of. This was all about her and she knew Will would understand that. It was how _he_ was, and she was beginning to get it - the freedom of doing what you wanted, as long as nobody got hurt. Well, somebody got hurt tonight, but that was their fault for being dirty, lecherous creeps.

Alice was pushing her crotch into the bed and realized she was in danger of making a wet patch. She decided to wait until Will was asleep - it would be fairer on him, and quite exciting for her to do it next to him without him knowing.

_Is that bad? Nah. Just_ do _it, Alice._

## Chapter Sixteen

Will was lying on the sofa, sipping Zinfandel and nibbling a piece of vintage cheddar. He'd left Alice to get to sleep - it had been a traumatic and tiring day for him, and he was used to it. _That poor girl,_ he mused, worrying that he might be corrupting a young life. She'd surely led a sheltered existence - acting in films from a young age - and probably hadn't seen much of the _real_ world. He was more determined than ever not to allow her emotions to lead them into a sexual encounter. He'd even resisted the temptation to relieve himself, preferring to allow his libido to cool naturally. He would have felt dirty doing it with her in the house - doing it _thinking_ of her.

The TV was on, with subtitles and the sound turned down, so as not to disturb Alice. There was a film about women swapping homes for a holiday. There was little sex, no violence, no ghosts or monsters, and despite it being set at Christmas - which he hated with a passion because of the hypocrisy - it was a nice, easy, feel-good story which would take his mind off things. He particularly liked the old-timer who'd starred in one of his favourite westerns, _il cattivo._ Finishing the tasty cheese, he smoked a pre-rolled cigarette and finished the wine. He was tempted to stay where he was, but thought Alice might be offended if he ignored her. He decided if he didn't go to bed soon he'd fall asleep, so made a move for the bathroom.

Alice was slumbering, but barely. She was hyped-up and horny, and had no easy release. Will crept into the bedroom without switching a light on, and felt his way to the bed. He took off his shirt and shorts. _Shit._ No underpants. _Sod it._ It was dark, he was tired, he'd risk it. Climbing into bed, he backed up to Alice and shut his eyes. She didn't move, there wasn't a murmur, so he shut his eyes and tried to dream of wholesome, earthy things. Within minutes he felt a prod in his back.

"You're here."

"Shouldn't I be?"

"I was waiting for you."

"Sorry."

Alice slipped an arm over his side and snuggled up. "You're naked."

Will felt her hot, sticky body, too. "So are you."

"I was hot."

"I need to sleep, Alice.

"Me too, but I can cuddle."

"Sure." Will liked the cuddling. He settled down and tried again to dream of anything but a naked Alice. It wasn't easy, feeling her smooth, hot body, and she smelled so good he wanted to breathe her right in and just keep her there, inside him, forever. If he thought about anything other than Alice, and she aroused him, then he'd be caught in some perverse sexual cross-over fantasy, which he thought very unappealing. He hoped he'd fall asleep before he got aroused, and after that it wouldn't matter - he couldn't be held responsible for what happened when he was asleep. _Could I?_ Alice was just glad to have Will back, close to her, and content to snuggle-up. She quickly relaxed and fell into a deep sleep. Will sensed it, and soon joined her.

Will woke after some time, he was restless and needed the bathroom. Drifting across the floor and floating down the stairs, he arrived in his lounge. It was a full moon, and light filtered through the flimsy blue curtains. He looked around, thinking how odd the familiar shapes looked in the frivolous illumination. He pulled back a curtain to allow the moon to light a path to the bathroom, stopping to admire the clear autumn sky.

Staring at the moon, he felt a sudden tingle, a shiver in his arms and chest. He rubbed them and flexed his shoulders. Turning to continue with his bathroom quest, he stopped and did a double-take. The shiver rushed back through his tightened arms and legs, and he froze. He wanted to call out, but when he opened his mouth his voice was absent. Will was shaking, his heart was thumping against his chest, but he couldn't move his arms or legs. He waited for the beast to attack, but it stood and stared at him, laughing, bright green eyes boring into his brain. The more he sweated and the heavier he breathed, the more the ghastly animal seemed to mock him. It seemed determined to scare him, quite literally, to death.

Will wanted the terror to end, and death would be preferable to immobility and interminable fear. The monster before him was laughing, three heads uttering very different, screeching, mocking, ear-splitting noises. The donkey appeared to be floating six inches above the floor, though he could not see its feet. Will's eyes were paralysed, too, fixed in the stare of the creature that rode the donkey: a howling beast, arms and legs flailing, threatening to rip him apart and tear his flesh to pieces with razor-sharp teeth. As if to mock him further and increase the spectacle of his gruesome death, the monkey was crashing a pair of cymbals together. On its shoulder sat a colourful parrot, squawking and taunting Will in a language he didn't understand.

Surely Alice would hear the noise and wake? Will was afraid for her, but also wished she'd prod him and somehow make his limbs work again. He opened his mouth and tried to scream her name, but either his voice had not returned or it was being drowned out by the caterwauling from the merciless creatures. Suddenly his wishes were granted, and he felt his arm move. He was going to get free and somehow beat the parrot to death, then the monkey; the donkey would be a challenge, but he had knives. If he could get to the kitchen and grab a twelve-inch knife, he'd slit the throats of all three tormentors.

He felt a prod \- Alice was with him. "Prod me Alice" Prod me!"

"I am prodding you!"

"Harder, harder!"

Alice prodded harder. The monkey spotted her and Will feared for her life.

"The monkey Alice! Prod the monkey - no - slap the monkey!"

"Excuse me?"

"Spank the bloody monkey Alice, before it jumps up and bites you!"

"I think you should wake up, first."

"I'm trying, I need you to prod me."

"I need you to prod me, but I'm not screaming it for all the neighbours to hear."

"I'll prod you later, get me that knife!"

"Whoaa there, you're kinda scaring me."

"You're scared? You don't have a monkey coming at you with a parrot. Kill the donkey!"

Alice knew there was only one weapon with which to battle the evil menagerie, and luckily she'd brought it to bed with her. She picked up the glass and flung the contents in Will's face. He spluttered.

"I'm drowning!"

Alice slapped his face, probably harder than was truly necessary.

"Get back, foul beasties!" Will was pushing her away, a hand on each breast.

Alice threw back the covers. She dashed downstairs and filled a jug with cold water, which very soon after was trickling down Will's face and sweaty body. He looked up at her, realized he was naked, and covered his modesty.

"What you do that for?"

"Will, I think you have a problem."

" _I've_ got a problem? You're the one chucking cold water around, in the middle of the night! By the way - you're naked."

Alice had completely forgotten, such was her ease with the state. She grabbed the tee and dived into it. A case of, she thought, _after the horse has bolted - but what the heck?_ She sat on the bed and began explaining to Will that she'd been woken by screams, and garbled talk about tormenting animals. It had taken her nearly ten minutes to wake him.

Will slowly came round, the cold, wet patch underneath him facilitating the process. He listened to her, and gradually put the pieces together. Will explained that, as a child, he'd seen a ghost - he assumed it was a ghost - of a donkey with a monkey riding it, and a parrot on top of the monkey. "Oh, and the donkey was wearing a striped sombrero." It was a vision that had haunted him for years, and he had no idea what it meant. Why it had come back now, was not entirely clear.

Alice was worried. She tried to comfort Will, and he responded to her soothing, but she couldn't help wondering what other nightmares were lurking in the dusty, dark recesses of his mind. Her mothering instincts took over, as she sat and stroked his damp hair. She found a towel and dried him off. Will felt safe in her arms, and she felt unusually needed - which she saw as no burden at all. She got him some underwear and changed the sheets. Will needed a fag, so she brought him the baccy tin and a glass of water.

"More water?" Will was reaching saturation point.

"I think you had enough alcohol already." She was waving an empty bottle of Zinfandel.

Will looked sheepish. He'd overloaded his brain, and his body, today.

"Thanks Alice. I _mean_ it. I might have died of heart failure, or something."

"You worried me. I thought you were going to attack me - and then you mentioned a knife."

"Shit, Alice, I'm so sorry. Maybe I should go."

"Go? It's _your_ home."

"You can lock me out, I'll sleep in the car."

"Don't be stupid. I know you wouldn't hurt me."

"Of course, not intentionally, but if I'm asleep what can I do?"

"I'll keep a bucket of water by the bed." Alice smiled.

"What if I strangle you in your sleep?"

"Then I won't know much about it, so no problem." Alice made light of it, but secretly she was a little alarmed by the thought. She wondered if she should seduce him, go all the way, release some of the tension that had obviously built up inside him. She was scared, but also a little bit excited. The problem was, she'd long since stopped feeling horny. "Let's try to sleep." She wanted to be back in bed, snuggled up to Will. After that, she'd go with the flow.

"OK. I'm pretty tired. You sure you want me here?"

"Quite sure."

Will invited her to climb over, as the bed was still a little damp where he'd drowned. She clambered over and tucked her legs under the duvet, stopping to pull off her shirt. He'd seen her naked already - and worse, peeing - and she no longer felt she needed to be modest in his presence. Clothing might be seen as a barrier, and she wanted no such obstacle between them, especially at this time. Will showed no emotion, as if her undressing were normal. He was tired and so hopelessly captivated by her, he didn't dare do anything else that might alarm her. He felt tremendously relieved that she trusted him to be next to her, and that she was not trying to put up a barrier, if a tee shirt could be seen as a barrier. He allowed her to get comfortable and offered an embrace, which she gladly accepted. He was not excited sexually, but aroused and stimulated by her touch, the feel of her naked skin on his, and her sweet aroma. It felt right to be that way, and whatever obstacles he'd previously foreseen were now being washed out of his mind by the overwhelming feeling that this was meant to be.

Alice had one arm under her head and one over his body, inviting him to press his chest against her breasts. It was a loving embrace, without any unnecessary thrusting or kissing, or the penetration she feared might violate her integrity. If it happened after such an embrace, she'd let it - she knew it could do nothing but enhance the ecstasy. She didn't need it, but she also knew Will didn't, so she happily held her body against his.

When morning came, the couple had slept soundly, with no further drowning incidents. Alice woke first and found her body still bonded to Will's. She knew she had achieved fulfilment in the night without having to degrade or humiliate herself, or Will. She wouldn't have thought it possible, although she had oft wished it could be so. She wasn't sure how big a part Will had played, because it was a relatively new experience for her to feel so aroused in the presence of a man, but she knew he had been the catalyst, and been there at every stage to hold her hand.

Will woke soon after, and seemed surprisingly coherent. He felt he'd had the best night's sleep ever and greeted the world, and Alice, with a renewed vigour.

"Hey." Alice's tone was soft, soothing.

"Hey. I didn't murder you then?"

"Far from it," she felt a tingle between her legs. "Good dream? Sarah, was it?" She'd noticed he always had an erection in the morning, and it felt OK to tease him now.

"Umm, yeah, who else?" Will winked.

Alice held him tight, wanting to feel him against her tingly bits. "Mmmm, I'm so glad you're here."

"Where else would I be?"

"Not here."

"Right." Will felt a mound of soft hair brushing against him, and blushed.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Miss Alice?"

"Absolutely."

"Oh... OK."

Will had no resistance, he was tired of behaving himself. He sensed Alice had experienced some sort of epiphany and suddenly become hetero- or bi-sexual. Either that or he'd been mauled to death by a vicious donkey and gone to Heaven.

"Is this Heaven?"

"Ohhh yes."

"I meant, am I in Heaven?"

"Shut up and hold me."

"OK."

"You're more romantic when you're sleeping."

"Thanks."

Alice kissed his nose, then licked it with a wet, sloppy tongue. Will would have let her lick him all over, and gazed adoringly into her eyes.

"I love your eyes. I've never seen such beautiful eyes."

"I use them to exert power over men. And hot women, of course."

"Well you have exerted me. I mean over me."

"Dork."

"Yes."

"Do you still love me Will?" Alice had a mischievous look in her beautiful, blue eyes.

"Might do." Will sensed mischief.

"Good, 'cos I think I might be pregnant."

Will thought about it for a minute. "You're a virgin. Technically. Aren't you?"

"Am I Will?"

Will was confused, but intrigued. "Errr...."

Alice's expression was fixed.

"Errrr. What are you saying?" Will supposed either she'd lied about being a lesbian, had artificial insemination, or somehow become de-virginized in his company. The latter scenario puzzled him greatly because he thought he understood how babies were made, and had no recollection of making one with her.

"Not sure, exactly," she'd have to mull over what led to her dreamy crescendo last night, "But the look on your face was priceless."

"You....."

Will challenged her to a naked pillow fight, and she accepted. Will lost.

## Chapter Seventeen

The lovers were sharing a piece of toast. Will had Marmite on his half, Alice stuck to jam. They were gazing into each other's eyes, giggling like small children. Will hadn't felt like a small child since he was a small child, and that seemed like a very long time ago. Neither of them noticed the smoke, until an eardrum-bursting siren alerted them. Will jumped up and waved a towel at the smoke detector, while Alice levered the thick, crusty slice from the toaster. She was about to throw it in the box with the other remnants of food awaiting the recycling lorry, but Will called out, "No! Scrape it."

Alice was not familiar with the expression, "Huh?"

Will gave the smoke detector one last slap and warned it not to scream at him again, or it'd be answering to the hammer. He took the charred slice and prepared to demonstrate scraping.

"It's only burnt on the outside."

"Hmm, but where does the outside stop?"

"On the inside."

Alice couldn't fault the theory, but the inside appeared to be missing.

"I don't really want to spread my jelly on charcoal."

"Jelly is a gelatine pudding made from collagen extract."

"Oh, shut up." Alice flicked some raspberry jam in Will's face.

Will scraped the jam from his cheek and spread it with his fingers across a lump of charcoal.

"Eat."

"Eat me."

"Can I spread jam on you?"

"Can I dip you in peanut butter?"

"Ewwwww no way! Foul, smelly, evil concoction. And I don't want nuts on my nuts."

"I prefer the smooth variety."

"You want me to shave them?"

"Yes, and spread smooth peanut butter and jelly over them."

"You're disgusting. You put me right off my toast."

"You're a strange man." Alice stared, a deliberately ambiguous smile in her eyes and on her lips.

Will, not for the first time, was enchanted. He'd seen the smile in a hundred photographs, and spent many days pondering over the mysterious woman and the mysterious thoughts that might lie behind it.

"I love that."

"What?"

"Your smile. Reminds me of the Mona Lisa."

Alice hadn't been compared to a grubby painting of a 500-year-old dead woman before, and was unsure whether she ought to be flattered or insulted.

"Oh?" She'd settled on indignation.

"Enigmatic. That's you - your smile. It's possibly the most enigmatic smile ever, far more so than Mona's. It _intrigues_ me."

Alice's smile became even more enigmatic, her sapphire eyes revealing only as much as she desired. What lay behind was not for public consumption \- not even Will's. She'd have to know him very much better before she allowed him into her mind, and she sensed Will might be like one of those unsolved mysteries, such as Nessie or Bigfoot.

"I need a shower."

"Me too."

"Share?"

Will hadn't anticipated Alice's response, and although he would gladly watch her shower, he was less inclined to allow her reciprocation. He imagined his belly and moobs wobbling like jelly, and politely declined her invitation.

"Not really big enough."

"It does me."

"The shower."

"OK, whatever. Thought you could scrub my back."

Will was tempted. "Why don't you have a bath, and I can scrub your back from outside."

"Well I didn't want you to scrub my insides."

Alice decided she quite liked the idea of a bath, but would shower her hair first. Will told her to shout when she needed him, and regretted it after the fourth shout, which came before she'd found the shower switch.

"Pull it."

"I'm never sure which one to pull."

"There's only two."

"Good job you're here, Will." Alice beamed, and Will slunk off, but not too far.

"Let me know if you need help with the taps."

"Huh?"

Will thought, "Err... faucet?"

"Oh, _taps_." Alice smiled to herself, bathing in the warm spray and fragrant apple shampoo. She lathered her long hair, massaging her scalp and imagining Will's fingers stroking her head. Rinsing it thoroughly, she grabbed a towel and stood under the heater, spinning slowly. The powerful jet of hot air was only bearable for short periods, and she was soon shouting.

"Will!"

"What?"

"How do I adjust the heat?"

"Err, stand further back?"

"OK." It was, as ever, a logical solution.

Alice's hair was becoming less straight and she decided to cut her losses. She found a bottle of bubble bath and poured some under the streaming taps, then poured some more. _What the hell._ She emptied the bottle, and marvelled at the foaming blob-monster she'd created. Slipping gracefully beneath the bobbing amoeba, into the steaming water, she shouted. Will appeared by her side, sponge in hand. She leant forwards and rested her head on her knees.

"Got enough bubbles?"

"Nah, but the bottle's empty."

Will gently wiped the soapy sponge across her perfectly formed back, which was just broad enough at the shoulder, and just slender enough at the waist, to form what he considered the idea V shape. She had the slightest hint of excess flesh around her belly, a sign she was human and not a cyborg, which Will found reassuring.

He soaped-up some more and pushed her curly hair to the side, gliding slowly from the nape of her perfect neck to the top of her perfect bottom, stopping where the sumptuous pinky-white flesh parted. Her back was clean so he gently curled a soapy, spongy hand around her tummy. Alice sighed and leant back, revealing a fluffy white mountain of popping foam bubbles. Will gently sponged, careful not to divest her of her modesty amoeba. Alice was in Heaven, a fact Will could deduce from her broad grin. He carefully rebuilt her melting soap sweater and worked his way along her hot, pinkish, shiny legs until he arrived at her feet.

"Higher."

Will re-sponged her knees.

"Higher"

Will re-sponged her thighs.

"OK, I'm good. You can go."

Will sponged her smirk.

"Wanna get in?"

Will needed a bath and didn't want to waste water, but politely declined. He would be unable to hide or control all of his wobbly appendages when squished into such a tight space with Alice.

"You don't want to see my wobbly bits."

"I think we're past that."

"Nah, I'd spoilt it for you. I can jump in after – don't wanna waste this water."

He was content to flick foam and top her up with hot water, until her legs were a nice shade of radish. Alice was content to let him.

Back in bed, wrapped in a giant towel, she waited for Will to finish his solo bath and then lay and made faces at him as he looked for something different to wear. What we doing for lunch?" Alice knew they'd have to go out.

"Err, soup? Or we can go out."

"Where?"

"Pub?"

Alice shuddered.

"Pubs here are kinda... weird." She was being polite.

"Oh, that was a town pub. Country pubs are different."

"How?"

"Well, mostly you need to drive to them, so people don't drink as much. And they're quaint, no loud music or slot machines - more suitable for older people."

"I'm 22."

"Come on, you're not a typical 22-year-old."

"I look old?"

"You're... _sophisticated_." Will was pleased he'd found a word quickly. Alice was pleased with sophisticated.

"OK, but no fighting. Any trouble - we walk."

"Deal."

Will was confident he could find a pub where he wouldn't need to deal with lecherous louts. The villages a few miles outside of Newington were small and old-fashioned, quaint, and property prices were high enough to keep the riff-raff away. Many people commuted out of them during the day to work in Broadford. The remainder would be mostly older, retired people. They would not leer at, or try to grope, Alice. The pubs made their money from food, which was often too fancy, or too pricey, to attract young people. Country people - whom Will generally despised for being cruel, murderous, blood-thirsty savages - were at least brought-up with similar standards to his. They kept to themselves, and were comfortable being themselves. They wouldn't bother Alice, even if they recognized her.

Alice was marvelling at the twisting lanes. The crudely-cut hedges either side of the road flashed by, just inches from the side of the car and towering above it some ten, twelve feet or more. Every dip or bend brought a glimpse of a new vista, and they were mostly unhindered by buildings. It looked neat, kempt, and was mostly well-managed farmland with the occasional woodland or coppice. Fields of green grass lay next to fields of rich, naked red earth, divided by meandering brown hedgerows that sprawled across the rolling landscape like the chequered stripes on a giant, ruffled picnic rug. In the far distance, she glimpsed soft, dark hills of brown and purple, capped with jagged peaks. Cows, sheep and horses grazed peacefully, lazily. She recognized the scent from having filmed on farms, and it completed her transference to a different world.

"This is nice in spring."

Alice thought it was nice now, but believed him.

"Much greener, lots of wild flowers. You'd love it."

Alice decided she would come back in spring, even if filming schedules allowed for only a weekend.

"And much warmer, of course. Not quite southern USA, but comfortably warm. We get the gulf stream, ya know." Will said it as if his people had somehow fought and captured the warm current, and ordered it at gunpoint to heat their chilly island.

"Well done, Will."

Alice's sarcasm was accompanied by a grin.

"Huh?"

"For stealing our warm water from right under our hick noses." She laughed at her joke, as Will was still looking bemused.

"Hmm. Look, deer!"

"Yes dear?"

"Don't start. Roe."

"Row? OK, give me an oar."

"Rabbits."

"Hmm, who'd have thought it?"

Alice had been looking at Will, because it amused her to watch the bewilderment and frustration she caused him. Will had stopped at a fork and was playing _Eenie_ , _Meenie_ , _Miney Mo._

"Lost, Will?"

"Course not."

Will looked around. The hedge was lower here, but he couldn't see over the top from his seated position. He'd not been to the _Tudor House_ pub for many years, and had forgotten the route. A tall, ruddy-cheeked chap in brown cords and tweed jacket approached. Will lowered his window.

"Hello."

"Aft'noon. Los' ar' we?"

"Tudor House?"

"Over there." The chap pointed at a pub he could clearly see a short distance away, over the hedge. Alice and Will swung their heads in the direction he'd indicated in eager anticipation of the view, but were simultaneously greeted by a view of a thick, dark hedge just three feet from their noses. They turned quickly and looked at each other with blank faces, then quickly realized their stupidity. Seconds later they burst into a fit of giggles - which quickly became hysteria.

"Bloody grockles." The chap stomped off, muttering and tutting.

After three minutes of side-splitting laughter and pointing, recreating the hilarious scene and gormless expressions, the driver behind had tired of the Rover blocking his path. He started honking - Will thought it was Alice, and Alice thought it was Will. The honking intensified, until Will glanced at his mirror and spotted a red-faced old man in a green Humber Sceptre, waving fists in his direction.

"Oops, sorry!" Will waved back, and aimed the Rover at the left fork. A few yards in, he pulled into a gateway and gestured for the Humber to pass. He couldn't drive with tears in his eyes.

"That was sooo funny." Alice was in tune with Will.

"Poor farmer, don't think he got the joke."

Will wiped his eyes and pulled out, quickly catching the Humber.

"What a lovely old car."

"Beautiful, always wanted one of them - well, when I was a kid."

"You are a kid."

"So are you."

"Hellooo... 22 here?"

"Pub."

Will pulled onto a track that led them to a car park behind the pub. They were still giggling like kids when they entered the building. Alice looked around at the clean, bare floorboards and shiny black wooden tables with elaborately carved legs. There were only two beams in the ceiling, but they were massive – well over a foot square – and bore scars from centuries of chipping, scraping, hammering and nailing. Wooden panels covered the walls, and smaller offshoots divided the bar into irregular sections. Cracking, spitting logs filled a huge black fireplace that wore a thick, charred beam across the top, and the fragrant wood smoke permeated every corner of the room. Shiny brass and copper objects hung randomly, accompanied by china and pottery vases and figures nestled in small alcoves, pictures of people and animals, parts of people and animals, and ancient tools and signs covering what was left of the walls and ceiling. It would take a few hours just to look around all the objects, let alone figure out what they were.

The bar ran almost the length of the room, about sixteen feet. It was solid, wide, dark wood, and at each end thick wooden pillars were displaying ornaments, snacks and breweriana. Three feet above the bar, creating a large letterbox for customers to receive their drinks, a similarly constructed wooden shelf with decorative carved posts held a wall of glistening glasses and the odd pewter or silver tankard. Tall brass, wood or porcelain pump handles lined the rear of the bar, and on the wall behind there were bottles of every spirit available, some on shelves and some in optics. Stools of varying heights lined the front, and at the far end sat a middle-aged, bearded gentleman with a brandy glass in his hand. The barman stood behind the bar on a platform, raised six inches above the floor. He was tall - unusually tall. Will guessed seven feet. His beige chinos were visible above the bar, as was his green cotton shirt which was tucked neatly into his pants, all tidily bound together with a plain, black leather belt and brass buckle. His head was somewhere behind the top shelf, and the couple giggled as they watched the lanky torso shuffling back and forth across the letterbox.

Will approached the belt buckle and cleared his throat. "Excuse me."

A detached, middling-to-deep, softly-burred voice responded from above. "Oh, hello, didn't see you down there."

Will was unsure of his next move - whether to wait for the mouth to come down, or to continue addressing the torso. He jerked back involuntarily as a large head loomed into view. The barman rested his elbows on the counter, his backside wedged against the wall behind.

"Hello chap, hello missus. How goes it? On holiday? I'm Will. Nice to meet you."

Will thought he was friendly, and probably harmless.

"Err, hi. I'm Will, this is Alice."

Alice was stifling a laugh, and coughed. "Sorry, cough. Howdy."

"Oh, American eh? Don't get many of you in here. Shame, really. Could use the exposure."

Will the barman spoke with a relaxed, slightly monotone voice that you really couldn't feel threatened by, despite his size and unusual head. He turned back to Will the inadequate who was once aagin wondering why there were so many tall people around these days.

"Will eh, could be confusing." He guggled – too deep for a giggle, not quite a laugh. "I'm William Pratt, down there's me pardner in crime," he guggled some more, "Richard Bent. We call him Dicky, obviously." He pointed at the bearded chap.

Dicky rolled his eyes, and shook his mouth, as if a new retort might be facilitated. None came, so he supped his brandy.

More guggling. "You can call me Spike."

Will's brain cogs were whirring, and he looked to the ceiling for help. It came. "Oh right, I get it. William Pratt - Spike - Buffy." He grinned, pleased to be on home ground at last.

"Not really, I just like torturing people with my rail-road spike. Do you wanna see it?" More guggling followed, and Dicky let his head fall into his hands.

Will was amused, and Alice wondered what the hell she'd let him drag her into, this time. Her gaze was averted by a bobbing head behind the bar. Spike stood up and turned so his belt buckle was facing the short man.

"Alright Wayne, finished?"

"All done, Spike. Your access bend collapsed, you'll need a new one soon."

"Oh dear, better get it done. Can't have me access bend clogged again. Help yourself to a Dubonnet and tomato juice."

"Cheers."

Alice wasn't sure which was odder - a three-foot plumber, the sight of him talking to the groin of a seven-foot headless barman, or anyone who drank Dubonnet and tomato juice. She was unable to talk whilst chewing her fist, desperately holding back laughter, so tapped Will's arm and gestured that she would take a seat. She headed for the end of the bar where Dicky sat, as he seemed the only person there who wasn't a total nutter.

Spike's head loomed again in front of Will.

"Sorry, had a blockage down below. Wayne's handy for that, great little guy. If ever you need a plumber who can fit in small spaces, he's your man. Got a card there, Wayne?"

"Err, thanks." Will peered over the bar and took a card, nodding at the bobbing eyes.

"So, what can I get you?"

"Oh, right," Will had almost forgotten what he'd come in for, "Two pints of Badger and umm, do you do food?"

"Ooooooooooo food eh? Bit tricky that. I can't leave the bar unattended, you see."

"Oh, err, no cook?"

"Ooooo tricky one that. Had to sack her. Yes. Bit awkward really." Spike loomed closer to Will and spoke in hushed tones. "Gladys, she was our cook, she chopped the head off the wrong rabbit." He pointed with his eyes, but Will wasn't following so he pointed again. Will followed, and guessed he was pointing at Dicky.

"Oh, I see." Will hadn't the faintest idea what Spike was saying.

"Yes, nasty business. Dicky was upset, livid in fact. Had to drag him off her. I thought he was going to skin her and cut off her foot for luck."

"The rabbit?"

"No, silly, Gladys. She decapitated one of Dick's rabbits. He's very attached to them."

"Right, so she doesn't like rabbits?"

"Loves 'em, can't bear to see them chopped into little pieces and cooked. Still, she was very good at it."

"I don't quite follow."

"Dick breeds, you see. With rabbits."

Will shot a glance of disgust at the rabbit molester. "Weird."

"Not really, no. Quite common round here. Dick's are very special, though. Pure bred, white, Dwarf Hotots. Sorry Wayne."

"Dwarf is fine, Spike. _Midget_ is offensive."

"Oh yeah, I can never remember. Gotta be so careful these days, haven't you?"

"Umm, with rabbits? Or dwarfs?"

"Both really, and immigrants. You know. Not that American tourists are immigrants." His eyes pointed to Alice. "Nice girl that, looks familiar. How is she with dwarfs?"

"Umm, I think she loves dwarfs, and rabbits. Oh yes, she adores rabbits." Will turned and waved at Alice.

"Hear that, Dicky? The American girl there, she adores rabbits."

Dicky perked up and honed in on Alice, who was glaring at Will.

"I thought so, you have that look about you." Dicky cornered Alice, who was glaring very hard at Will.

"Oh those two will get on like a house on fire. Dicky loves talking about rabbits - goes on forever. You know - _rabbit, rabbit, rabbit_."

"Great, Alice will be thrilled." Will smiled at her, pleased with his move.

"Look chap, I shouldn't really do this, but seeing as you're so nice and your daughter loves rabbits, I'll tell you what, I'll see if can find some pasties in the freezer. Won't be long. Dick. Dick! Watch the bar, will you?" Spike turned. "Ooops sorry Wayne, didn't see you there. What you looking for?"

"Lemons."

"In with the pork scratchings, mate."

Spike bent his knees and shuffled off.

"Errr... beer?" Will was very thirsty.

A muffled voice called back. "Help yourself, or ask Wayne."

"Errr... Wayne?"

"Yes?"

"Two pints of Badger?"

"Hang on, just gotta find me box. Won't be a tick."

Wayne found his box and clambered up, and Will faced his face for the first time. He reached up to get a glass. "Sorry mate, wrong box. I need me shelf box."

"Err, can I help?"

"OK, thanks, just grab a couple of glasses from up there." Wayne pointed to the shelf above their heads, and Will picked out two glasses with handles, thinking it would be easier for all concerned. Tall, straight glasses could so easily slip from tiny hands, or sweaty hands, hands shaking with laughter, or hands belonging to a glowering Alice

"Like _handles_ eh, bit of a traditionalist?"

"Yes, I'm not a fan of tall.... err, straight, glasses"

"Prefer short glasses, do you?"

"Err, yes, well, any size really, not too tall, not too short." Shit. Will kicked himself in the shin, which hurt.

Wayne seemed oblivious, and expertly poured two pints of ale. "There you go. Pay Spike, or see Dick."

"Cheers."

Will retired to Alice's table, where Dick was explaining the finer points of the Dwarf Hotot, and how to breed with them.

"Ah, here's my Will. How are you, _darling_? Dick has been telling me all about his rabbits. I think you'd be really interested. Dick, would you mind repeating it to Will?"

"Of course, lovely to meet you, Will. What do you know about Hotots?"

"Not as much as I'd like."

"Dwarfs?"

"Very little."

The genius of Will's wit was lost on Dick, Alice was still glaring at him, and Wayne, perhaps fortunately, had his head in a box of pork scratchings.

"Well you've come to the right place." Dick's stubby nose wrinkled, his pointy canines glinting in the rays of sunshine coming through tiny, leaded windows.

"Yes, we have. Aren't we lucky, Alice?"

"You really know how to choose your pubs, darling."

Spike returned with two soggy, microwaved pasties. Alice was thrilled, and glared at Will some more.

## Chapter Eighteen

Alice was glaring at Will. They'd finished their soggy pasties, eventually. Their meal had been accompanied by Dick's rabbit narrative, one he had honed over many years, and Alice's glaring. Alice decided to get herself a stronger drink.

She nodded at Wayne, who was sitting on a tall stool talking to Spike's waistline. "Err, hello, Spike?"

"Hello luv, be right with you." Spike bent his body in three, and loomed in Alice's face.

"Right, what'll it be?"

"Screwdriver, please. As big as you can make it."

"Coming up." Spike stood and rummaged through a drawer. Alice really hoped he wasn't about to present her with a pointy tool. Spike pulled out a book. "Ah ha, here we are. S – c –"

"It's just vodka and orange juice." Alice needed alcohol, fast.

"Sorry, not much call for cocktails here, is there Wayne?"

"No, we don't see many Americans here."

Spike poured a bottle of orange juice into a pint glass. Alice stared. Jesus, she thought, _I'll be flat out after this - good!_

"How much gin, love?"

"Vodka."

"Oh, right. Good job you're here."

"Just pour, I'll tell you when to stop." Alice smiled, figuring this might turn out OK. She stopped him when the glass was two-thirds full. Spike stirred his creation with a fork, and threw in a pink umbrella which promptly slid down and jammed itself inside the glass.

"Straw?"

"Why not." Alice smiled politely.

"So, bet you've acted with some famous people?"

Alice was taken aback. She wondered if Will had been blagging about her. "Err, excuse me?"

"You're an actor, right? I've seen you in something... what was it, Wayne?"

"Dusk 'til Dawn."

"That's it, Dawn to Dusk."

"Err, no, I wasn't in that."

"You sure?"

"I'm pretty sure, I have a good memory."

"What was it then?"

Alice tried to think straight, but the vodka was kicking-in. "Sorry, can't think."

"Oh well, it'll come back to you. Sooo, who've you acted with?"

Alice wasn't sure she should tell the truth, but then again, this story was hardly going to get outside the pub without being altered a dozen times and somehow integrated with rabbit tales. She reeled off a list of famous names, and a few curve-balls.

"Wow, DeNiro, Cruise, Chaplin, Streep, Gable... bet you got some tales to tell, eh? Spike eagerly awaited her tales.

"Not really, it's just a job. I don't really know them."

"Shame that, we could use the exposure. So what you doing here? Making a film?"

Alice had to think on her feet, which were wobbling under the weight of vodka. "Err, research. For a film."

"Oooo that sounds interesting. What's it about?"

"Err, local legends."

"Right, good one, well you're in luck. Dick knows all about the local legends. Wrote some of them. Here, have you heard the one about the mad monk?"

"Umm, rings a bell?"

Alice waited in vain for a guggle.

"Well there's this chapel, haunted by a mad monk. Serial killer, you know."

"Sounds good, I'll check it out."

"You should check it out. Don't go there at night though, eh Wayne?"

"Oh God, yes, no, don't go there at night."

"Why's that?"

"It'll be dark, luv. Won't see a thing."

"Well, thanks for the pointers. Better get back to my uncle - he likes to keep his eye on me, and his hands, if ya know what I mean." Alice was determined to even things up with Will. She wrinked and waved at Will, who was now being glared at from different heights.

"Miss me, uncle Will?" She put her hand on his groin and stroked it. Will was now being glared at by everyone in the pub who wasn't him, including Mona Lisa who was hanging above Dick, and a crow that was sitting on the window sill pecking a rabbit's foot.

"Err, of course. Dick was just telling me about a mad monk who bred rabbits."

Dick was eyeing Will and Alice, and decided these were a very odd couple of bunnies.

"So, Dick, where are your rabbits?" Alice was determined to beat Will at this game.

"Sleeping. Nocturnal, you see. At night they just roam freely."

"Roam?" Alice had visions of wildebeest sweeping majestically across a plain.

"Yes, all round here. They can travel miles in search of food."

"Food?" Will chipped in, sure of his rabbit knowledge. "Don't they eat grass and carrots and stuff? Don't you feed them?"

"Ah, well, these are special rabbits, they have a very particular diet."

Will was unsure he wanted to know more, so didn't ask. Alice was gently swaying.

"Err, OK, but err, aren't you afraid they might be attacked? By mink, foxes, lions?"

"Oh no, they can handle themselves."

Alice burst into a fit of giggles, and emptied her glass. She swayed and giggled some more.

Will was wondering why Dick hadn't pulled him up on the lion, and what sort of rabbit could defend itself against such a beast. "Are they dangerous?"

"Well, let's just say, you probably shouldn't look them in the eye."

Alice howled and simultaneously wet her pants.

Dick took umbrage. "Yes, well, nice talking to you. Gotta go see a man about a rabbit."

Will decided he should leave Alice, who was having a fit under the table, to cool down. He approached the glaring plumber and buckle.

"What do I owe you?"

"Five pounds, please."

"Five? We had food, and four drinks."

"Food is on the house, they were only left-overs from Christmas."

Christmas was a month away, and suddenly Will felt queasy.

"Still, five pounds for three beers and a Screwdriver ..."

"Take it or leave it."

"Huh?" Said Wayne.

"Huh?" Said Dick.

"Huh?" Said Will.

Will decided he'd take it, though he would rather have left it. He wasn't entirely sure which was the correct response, and besides, was rather keen to leave.

"Come on, you old tart."

"Coming pops, err uncle." Alice was swaying in five dimensions, maybe more.

"Don't forget to recommend us!" Spike was talking to Alice.

"Absolutely, this is the best pub I've ever had." She blew some kisses, and fell out the door.

Outside, the air and light hit her, flinging her to her knees. Will gathered her up and bundled her into the back of the car, thinking she'd either vomit or pee, and he didn't want either in the front.

"I'm giddy."

"You're pissed."

"Weeeeeeeeeeee." Alice was watching her hand, which was flying in circles around her head, which was spinning.

Will headed for Gidwell, determined to retrieve his towel. It was a fifteen-minute drive, and he guessed he'd be making the walk alone. Alice was alternately groaning and weee-ing, and he drove carefully to avoid upsetting her volatile stomach contents. He really didn't want to spend this evening clearing vomit off the upholstery and trying to deodorize the car - it wasn't the weather for leaving windows open.

As he drove, the distressing noises from the back seat died down, and his mind drifted back to the rabbit breeder. Something about that man bothered him - well, many things about Dick bothered him, but one in particular. He brought up a picture in his mind, and studied it. Where had he seen that face before. _Of course!_ Dick bore an uncanny resemblance to the ghostly monk he'd seen crawling out of a boggy hole. Maybe this was all a big con, some sort of lights-and-mirrors trick to bring in tourists, or rabbit fanatics. _Nah_. Will wavered - there must be a thousand faces like his, and beards are so hard to tell apart.

Will was in a conundrum, not for the first time. With Alice temporarily out of the mix he was thinking more clearly, and clearly there were questions to answer. Pulling up at the lay-by, he resolved to sort this out once and for all. He turned off the engine and peered over his shoulder; Alice was sleeping like a baby, curled up and with drool running down her chin. _Good_.

Rummaging through the Rover's boot, Will tooled-up. He had a shovel which had been there since last winter - a particularly snowy one. He had a pair of secateurs, which he kept because he liked to take cuttings from interesting plants. He had a trowel, some tin snips, a hammer, and a bucket to carry it all in, which would also be useful for clearing water. He was equipped to dig and cut his way to whatever secrets lay buried in Gidwell, and he had no intention of coming back here ever again - it was now or never. He checked on Alice, who was looking more comfortable, and carefully laid a travel-rug over her. She would be fine, if a little dehydrated and hung-over. He always had a bottle of water in the car and he used some to wipe her mouth, before resting it where she could easily see it when she woke.

Grabbing a torch, not knowing if he'd be done by nightfall, he strode purposefully down the hill and arrived at the chapel with a steely grin. _Right, you bastard monk, you've fucked with the wrong creep this time._ He was relieved to find his towel where he'd left it, and gave it a shake. Turning to the barren, boggy depression where they'd seen the ghostly figure, he took the shovel and thrust it hard into the soft ground. No blood, no guts, no metallic objects, no bones, no rabbits. He lifted a sod and flung it over his shoulder, then another and another. He was used to digging, though his back would complain soon. Adrenaline and sheer bloody-mindedness would mask the pain for now, and he was soon facing a hole three feet wide and a foot deep. It was filling with water, but he'd deal with that later.

For thirty minutes Will lifted muddy shovelful after muddy shovelful. The ground was free from plants and untrodden, not compacted. It was like digging sand on a beach. He reached two feet, then three, and had to make the top wider to stop it falling in. He dug like a maniac, stripped to his naked chest, and dug some more. If there was anything in this well, he was going to find it. Soon it was four feet wide, and four feet deep in the middle of the cone-shaped pit. He was sweating and aching, but had no intention of stopping - he'd dig it out, or die trying. The sun had already sunk below the hill behind him, but he barely noticed as his eyes became accustomed to the slowly fading light. Even so, he occasionally had to stop and shine a torch down the hole.

Will was kept busy now with the bucket, trying to empty his pit. It was not so much a well as a spring just below the surface, and the ground was waterlogged anyway after a wet autumn. He desperately heaved bucket after bucket of muddy slop out of the hole, and after three hours he was beginning to wish he'd stayed in the pub to learn more about rabbits. As the thought flickered in his mind, he stopped to look up. Five feet away, on the other side of the railings, a small white rabbit was sat. It seemed to be interested in Will, or the hole, and wiggled its nose at him. _White rabbit? Weird_. Will had seen many brown rabbits, and the occasional black one. White rabbits were usually escaped pets, and he wondered if a little girl was crying somewhere. He cleared five more bucketfulls and stopped again. The rabbit had been joined by a second, also white. _Now this is bloody weird_. He thought of Dick, and his roaming Hotots. The pub had to be five miles away, and this didn't strike him as ideal rabbit grazing country. _Oh well_. He really didn't have space in his brain to worry about roaming rabbits, and kept on with his bucket bailing, finding it more suited to lifting the sloppy mud than the shovel.

He stopped again, aware of more white shapes against the darkening background. He felt a shiver, not unlike the one he'd felt last night when faced with a donkey monster. Slowly raising his head, he jerked backwards at the sight before him. There were thirty or more identical white rabbits, with black eye patches that made them look quite creepy. They were all staring and wiggling their noses, apparently very curious about his activities. He stepped back and reached for the shovel, preparing to fend off the beastly bunnies.

_What am I doing? Rabbits don't attack people. Do they?_ On a weirdness scale, this was right up there, possibly above, the red-eyed monk monster. Will was scared, not knowing where the boundaries of reality lay any more. He thrust the shovel into a pile of slop and heard a metallic ping. The rabbits pricked up their ears and their noses stopped wiggling. Will shivered, feeling cold and intimidated. With one eye on the rabbits and one on the shovel, he bent down and pushed his hand into the pile of wet mud. His fingers fished around, stopping as his they touched on something that wasn't mud. A regular form, it felt circular and flat. _Alice, you bloody genius!_

Slowly, unsure as to what he'd found or how the rabbits would react, he pulled the amulet from its watery grave. He stared at it, unable to make out any distinct markings but quite sure it was something man-made and very special. He heard a rustling noise and looked up to see a hundred or more Dwarf Hotots advancing, one hop at a time. _This could get nasty._ Suddenly a loud explosion sounded, echoing around the valley. Will fell back into the muddy pit and dropped the amulet. He lay still for a few seconds, trying to sense where the pain or blood was, but was quite unable to feel anything other than terror and partial deafness. Gradually he became aware of a tall figure standing over him. He froze, awaiting certain death. The figure stooped and picked up his treasure, wiping the mud off, examining it, and then pocketing it.

"Well now, you've saved me a lot of digging. Thanks for that. You fit just right in that grave you dug."

Will vaguely remembered the voice, and scrabbled to find a face to fit. _Marvin_. "What do you want?" Will knew it was a dumb question and his chances of making it out of the muddy hole weren't looking good, but he figured he had to try and buy some time. Maybe the rabbits would attack Marvin – nothing would surprise him now. Sadly for Will, the rabbits had scarpered when Marvin fired his twelve-bore at them.

"What do I want?" Marvin roared with laughter - an evil, satanic laughter. Will was sure he saw fire in his eyes. "I want what you and that stupid kid want, and now I have it."

Will's chances of ending the day alive were looking slim, but he wasn't going to just sit there and die. He wondered if he could leap out of the hole and knock Marvin off-balance before he got a shot off. He was sure he only had one left, and in a wrestle or fist-fight he might have the edge on the man who was at least twenty years his senior and considerably lighter. He decided he'd try bargaining, and if that didn't work, it was an all-or-nothing leap.

"So, now you have it, you can just go - right?"

Marvin roared again. "Yes, of course, I can just go."

"Cool." Will sounded anything but cool.

"This amulet is going to change my life, and only you and the kid can stop me. So I'll just walk away and leave you, shall I?"

"Sounds good to me. We won't bother you, Sir." Will thought politeness would do no harm.

"That's a kind offer, can I have it in writing?"

"Sure!" Will marvelled at his negotiating powers.

"Only one problem."

"Oh?"

"I need your blood."

"Umm, OK, I can spare some." It seemed a bit much to ask, especially on top of the amulet.

"About ten pints."

"We can water it down." Will was running out of ideas, but it seemed worth a try.

"Sorry, has to be pure, thick blood from the fool who uncovers the amulet - that would be you, yes?"

Will considered blaming the rabbits, and even Alice, but felt sure Marvin would see through him.

"Can you use, like, a pint a week?"

Marvin roared again, and Will was starting to dislike his foe's evil laugh, but was pleased his wit was appreciated.

"Tell you what, I'll give you two choices."

Will was in front again – he had choices now!

"I shoot you and take your blood from your dead body, or tie you upside down to that fence and slit your throat. I'll stop at ten pints."

Will wasn't happy having to make the choice, and didn't know if he could spare ten pints. Maybe if he opted to be tied up, he could somehow use that time to overpower Marvin. "OK, sure, I'll take the fence and throat-slitting option."

Marvin stepped forward and pointed two very long, shiny barrels at Will's foot.

"Whoooa, I chose throat-slitting."

"Just making sure you don't try to run away."

"I won't, I promise."

"Better safe than sorry - try to look at it from my point of view."

Will was beginning to think there was no reasoning with the man and shut his eyes, praying for a miracle - a rabbit, a zebra, a lion... anything with teeth. He gritted his teeth and waited for the noise, and the pain. Maybe he could still overpower Marvin, even with one foot missing. Suddenly there came a loud bang. He winced and prepared to feel pain. None came. He wondered if the gun had misfired, as it had sounded a little odd. He didn't want to open his eyes in case he saw a bloody stump where his foot had been.

"Open your eyes!"

_Marvin must have shot himself in the balls to sound like that. Yes! A lucky break_. Will opened his eyes, but could see only a beam of torchlight.

"Are you hurt?"

Will thought Marvin had suddenly gotten a conscience, and was not such a bad chap after all.

"Will! Say something. Dork."

"Dork? No need for insults."

Alice threw herself on top of Will and squeezed him. "Thank God, you're alright."

"Alice, is that you?"

To be fair, Will was in shock and his face covered in mud. His eyes had been blinded by the torch, and he'd wondered if Marvin had already killed Alice - after she probably told him where to find the chapel, having first been tortured and raped.

Alice kissed his lips, then spat out a mouthful of mud. "Who do you think this is?"

"Err, guessing not Marvin. Buffy?"

Alice punched his arm, then kissed him again. Will lay back and thought of England - cold, wet, dark, smelly, rabbit-infested England. It was glorious.

## Chapter Nineteen

It was very dark in his wet hole, and Will was getting cold - despite Alice's enthusiastic hugging. He politely asked her to get off, and staggered to his feet. Marvin was lying face-down and quite motionless. Will kicked him - nothing. He felt for a pulse in his neck - nothing. He felt inside Marvin's jacket, pulling the source of this devastation into view. He shone a torch on it, but still could not make out the symbols.

"Here." He handed it to Alice.

"What's this?"

Will shone a torch on the round metal object.

"Is this... is this... my amulet?!"

"Err, well we don't know _whose_ it is, but it looks amulet-shaped."

"Will! You did it! For me! I love you!" Alice was jumping, almost hopping, somewhat like a rabbit. Her nose wiggled, too.

"Well, I did something, not sure what." Will decided not to tell her what Marvin had said, about the amulet being useless unless he slit his throat and hung upside down. He picked up his towel and wiped some of the mud from his body. _I knew a towel would come in handy._ Dressed again, feeling a little warmer but now aching all over, he picked up his tools.

"Alice, you bent my shovel!"

"Sorry, he must have a hard head."

"Hmm, I think he _had_ a hard head."

"Huh?"

"I don't think he _is_ any more - he _was_."

"You mean...?"

"He's a goner."

Alice stopped hopping and looked at the body lying in the cold mud. Suddenly she felt guilty and very vulnerable.

"W... wh... what are we going to do?"

Will wasn't really sure, but had he been alone he would have left the body where it was and scarpered. He'd had enough excitement for this lifetime, and it was getting very dark. Suddenly Alice squealed, but not through fear.

"Oh look, a white rabbit! Two! Three.... four... five... err, lots of white rabbits." She looked up at Will, who was brandishing a bent shovel.

"What's going on, Will?"

Will had no answer, and was a little concerned by the pack of toothy rabbits that seemed very interested in Alice. Then she squealed again, and this time it wasn't with pleasure.

"It bit me!"

"What did?"

"Take a guess, dork."

Will looked at the rabbits, sure they were discussing the flavour of Alice's blood, and equally sure they'd be discussing his very soon. He raised the shovel, ready to decapitate the first bunny that wanted to eat him, and watched as the ravenous beasts advanced.

"Will, don't hurt them."

"HUH?"

"Look, they're biting Marvin."

Will supposed rabbits liked their meat old and tough, or despised Marvin as much as he did, but as he watched them he realized they weren't biting - they were tugging at his clothes. A hundred or more tiny bunnies were pulling, pushing, hopping and squeaking, and Marvin's body was being slowly edged towards the hole. Some of them occasionally stopped and looked up at the couple, flashing warning, red eyes. Will looked at Alice, who looked at Will, and together they made a decision.

"Time to go."

Their words were perfectly synchronized, as were their steps as they backed away slowly from the surreal scene before them. Alice shone a torch on Marvin's body as it disappeared over the edge of the pit, making a small plop as it hit the water. As they were backing away, more white rabbits were arriving from all directions, and all were headed for the pit. Some were tugging at Marvin, some were digging, shovelling dirt back into the hole. Alice and Will had no idea what was happening, except that a greater force than they could comprehend was at work and they should probably just mind their own business. Will was a little peeved to see the results of his toils being destroyed, but figured that reasoning with the sabre-toothed bunnies would be a futile exercise seeing as they were so obviously determined to fill the hole in.

Reaching the edge of the wood, they started to run, carrying all the tools because Will said they couldn't leave any evidence behind. When they reached the car, they stopped and looked back down the field. Faint, white shapes were hopping towards the wood - hundreds and hundreds of rabbit shapes, hopping and wiggling.

"That Dick's been busy."

"Uh-huh. Now let's make like a banana."

"Huh?" said Will, who considered telling her bananas grew on trees, and they probably didn't have the raw materials to make one from scratch.

"Split!"

"Ah, OK."

Tools flung in boot, amulet safely wrapped in towel, the pair made like a banana - and split. The Rover was not hurtling at speed towards Saltymouth like last time, but back across the moors. Will was not going to risk being seen tonight. He needed to take the quietest roads possible, and he knew them well enough to ensure he could get within a mile or so of his home without running into traffic, police or cameras.

Alice was cradling the towel containing the amulet, and grinning. She was as surprised as Will to actually find it existed, but nevertheless assumed it was rightfully hers. She had no idea why, but she'd imagined this moment often and believed it was her destiny. She felt little emotion for Marvin, although the full realization of what she'd done was yet to hit her. She'd saved Will's life, gotten her amulet, and that was all that mattered for now.

Forty minutes later, having been on a tour of the darkest, narrowest roads Alice had ever seen, the Rover entered the outskirts of Newington. Will had to follow the main road into town for about half a mile, and then he took a detour around the outskirts. Arriving at a large roundabout, he was relieved to see all the lights were green, and he flowed round it and shot into the estate where he lived. He immediately took a right, which Alice knew was not the right way, and followed the outskirts of the estate as far as possible. He didn't pass another car and arrived safely home, driving forwards into the parking space.

Alice was quietly grinning as Will led her by the hand into the sanctuary of home. He thought she was in shock, and was still unsure what effect this object might have on their lives. Marvin had been prepared to kill for it, and he was sure this adventure was not yet over. Alice was probably still drunk and he didn't see any point in trying to rationalize the situation with her. He left her cradling her prize and retired to the bathroom. He was muddy, smelly, and stiff. The shower felt good, cleansing him of his muddled fears and reviving his senses. By the time he'd scrubbed himself clean, Alice had washed her amulet and was glued to the computer screen.

"Will, look. I think I've found it."

Will's enthusiasm for the treasure that had almost cost him his life and his sanity was rather less marked. He worried for her - this young girl who'd led a privileged life, insulated from the dirtier aspects of humanity. When she realized she'd taken a life, she could well tip over the edge, into his world - a world of murky secrets and guilt, a world where she'd feel isolated from her family and friends - and she had a lot of friends to lose. However, now was not the time to tell her.

"What you found then?" Will sat and put an arm round her.

"Look. I cleaned it. It's a star"

"A star? Doesn't sound very exciting." Will prised the disc from her hands. It was warm and shiny, but very worn and slightly dented. The amulet was about two inches in diameter and contained a star in relief, set inside a circle. In between the points of the star, and in the centre, were random carvings that reminded Will of Celtic knots, but they were so badly eroded that they could have been rabbits, or flowers, or the wheel trims off his Rover. It didn't look very significant to Will, not at all. He began to wonder if he'd dug up a free gift from a cornflakes packet.

"It has eight points. I counted them."

"Well done, Alice. Have a gold star."

Alice glared. "Don't patronize me. I may not have your planet-sized brain, but I can count." Then she wrinked and blew him a kiss.

Will thought, all the same, he'd count the points himself.

"So, is eight a significant number?" Will supposed a star could have any number of points, and eight was probably just the number that the star's creator found easy to carve, or maybe the craftsman had eight children, or eight rabbits. He felt Alice would scour the web until she found an explanation she liked, and would use her youthful and slightly biased imagination to make it fit the amulet's symbols, and her dreams.

"It's Sumerian, a sign of the Goddess Inanna."

"Whoa, that's a big leap to make. We don't know how old it is, what it's made of, or who made it. It might have come out of a cornflakes packet."

Alice was beginning to think Will was deliberately trying to undermine her.

"Party pooper. Why are you trying to diss me now? You were keen enough to get it for me."

"Sorry, I'm tired. And I don't want you raising your hopes. You've been through a lot today, and I think we just need to sit back and look at this objectively."

"Yeah, maybe. I'm being a silly little girl." She stuck her tongue out, to prove her point.

"You're not a silly little girl. One of us has to be enthusiastic and one of us has to be a cynical, miserable old git. That's the way these adventures work. Think Mulder and Scully."

"Huh?"

"X-Files."

"Oh. Which am I?"

"Err, you're Mulder, the believer - David Duchovny. I'm Scully, the sceptic - Gillian Anderson."

"Hmm, you look like a Gillian." Alice grinned.

"Yeah, well, we ought to change places, but anyway ..."

"I get your drift. I know you'll keep my feet on the ground."

"So, let's just suppose, hypothetically, that it's what you say it is. Does it have any relevance to the mad monk, vampires, or rabbits?"

"Well... the Goddess Inanna descended to the underworld and was resurrected, on condition she find someone to take her place."

"So who took her place?"

"Err ... hang on. Tammuz, her consort."

Will mused. It could see how easy it would be, making a link between resurrection and vampires, and the hole in the ground where he'd found the cursed charm. The well could signify holy water, life-giving, and rabbits seemed to symbolize all sorts of things, including fertility. He wrapped an arm round Alice, who stroked his hand but didn't take her eyes off the screen. Will moved closer, hoping to distract her with a little bodily contact.

"You smell nice."

"Yeah, I needed that shower. I think you could use one, too."

"You saying I stink?"

"Yes." She didn't, although her breath was a little on the ripe side, but Will thought she'd benefit emotionally from the soothing, warm water. It would also give him time to check out the web pages she'd found. She was too blinkered, too wrapped-up in the supposed benefits of the battered artefact to be open to the possibility it might be dangerous, or more likely just plain useless.

"Umm, OK, I guess I can do this later. Don't want to offend your big nose." She wrinked.

"OK, shout if you need me."

"I will, Will." She smiled and left Will with her treasure. "Look after it!"

Will waited for the sounds of gushing water and slightly out-of-tune singing, then began a digging of the virtual type. Alice had opened a dozen web pages and sure enough, there were pictures of eight-pointed stars and references to the underworld, water, sacrifice and fertility. There were also links to a thousand other interpretations of stars, Inanna, and rabbits. There was clearly a link somewhere and there were more than a few references to a powerful woman who attracted a lot of male admirers. Inanna, it seemed, was a bit of a hottie, very young, and used her sexuality to live a life more akin to the men of the time. She was at once pure, nubile, virginal, and warrior queen – the more Will thought about it, the more she seemed like Alice. An actor - a young girl - could be many things to many people. He still didn't quite see where rabbits came in, unless Alice had somehow been impregnated during her time here.

Alice returned, wrapped in a towel which barely covered her modesty. She was every inch the nubile, virginal, little sister or pert daughter he'd just been reading about. He didn't think it necessary or wise to present her with that particular analogy.

"Alright?"

"Yep, no more stinky Alice. Found anything?"

"Inanna: Goddess of Infinite Variety."

"Cool, sounds like me." Alice went through a series of well-practised modelling poses, did a little dance, and sang purposely out of tune.

"Exactly what I thought. Maybe you are meant to have this." He offered her the amulet.

"You hang on to it for me."

Alice sat and closed the netbook, snuggling up to Will.

"All those rabbits have made me horny."

"Ummm... OK." Will didn't quite see the connection, or why she felt he needed to know. He felt anything but horny.

"Do you want to go to bed?"

"It's kinda early." It was six in the evening.

"Not to sleep."

"Err, what then?"

"Well, I thought we could play Scrabble."

"OK. You know I'll win. And we use the British dictionary."

Alice glared. "You're such a dork. Do you want me to spell it out for you?"

"Yes, that's certainly an element of Scrabble."

"Fine."

Will thought he'd won, and was eager to try anything to take her mind off horniness and amulets. He rummaged through his bottom drawer and pulled out a battered, old green box. Alice had cleared the coffee table.

"Give me the pieces, I want to check them."

Will obliged, anything to keep her happy, and opened the board. Alice was shuffling tiles around, and started to place them on the board.

"Err, have you played this before?"

Alice held up a hand, signalling he should be quiet and let her play. She placed fourteen tiles across the board, and turned to Will.

"You wanted me to spell it out, so here ya go."

She turned the board to face him, and Will read the words out loud, " _I want to fuck you._ "

Alice smiled, "Good, about time you actually said it. Come on." She took his hand, and Will thought for a moment before rising, _well, if it'll make her happy_.

Alice led him up the stairs, thinking, _I hope this makes him happy_.

## Chapter Twenty

Will was smiling, even if he was sweating and gasping for breath. Alice lay next to him, her broad smile pushing her flushed, plump cheeks even higher. Will stared at her face, and it confirmed what he'd already known - she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. He smiled at the cute little dimples in her cheeks, and at her wide, deep blue eyes. He smiled at her perfect, straight, white teeth. She was always a Goddess in his eyes, but now she appeared to have attained an even higher level of purity and perfection.

"You're amazing. Beautiful. Perfect."

"You're not so bad, you can be sexy when you want." Alice giggled.

"Err, thanks. I'll take it as a compliment."

"You should. Nobody ever made me feel like that."

Will felt pleased that he'd made her happy, and also very smug. He'd always fancied himself as a good lover, but considered that very few women deserved to benefit from his remarkable skills.

"I'm hungry."

"I guessed that, from the way you were munching on me." Alice was getting cheeky.

"Cheeky girl, I might have to spank you again."

"Let me get my energy back. We should probably go out." Alice knew there would be nothing edible in Will's cupboards.

"Hmm, suppose so."

Alice rolled on top and kissed him, her tongue pushing firmly against his. Will could tell she had more than enough energy left to take him to the brink of exhaustion, or heart failure. He grasped her buttocks and marvelled at her perfectly toned, perfectly shaped form. She was firm yet soft, her cheeks reflecting the curvature of his large palms and her body had moulded itself against his, like two halves of a giant sticky peach. They shared their flesh, but more importantly they shared a cognizance. Will hardly dared think it, but he thought Alice might be his soul-mate - that elusive, mythical creature he'd so often ridiculed.

"You're determined to finish me off, aren't you?"

"Nah, I need a rest."

"Well you don't seem tired."

"Are you?"

"Yes!"

"So let's go eat."

Alice reluctantly eased her body off his, and stood by the bed. She allowed him to gaze freely upon her naked body, almost inviting his adoration. She felt strangely at ease, not afraid to exhibit herself, and not just because she and Will were now confirmed lovers.

"You're stunning."

"I know." Alice winked, and stroked her groin suggestively.

"Your skin is so... glowy."

"Huh?"

"You're glowing."

Alice looked down and ran her hands slowly over her body, enjoying the sensation of her finger tips caressing her tingly pink flesh.

"I feel kinda good."

"I can confirm that." Will winked.

"You wanna touch me?"

"Nooooo, I need food and rest. I'll touch you later. Assuming you haven't jumped some random, good-looking bloke in the street."

"Hmmm, I could, couldn't I?"

"Yes ... I mean no. I mean, I doubt anyone would turn you down."

Alice appeared to be giving the suggestion some serious consideration, but was interrupted by her cell phone. She'd hardly used it, mainly because the reception in Will's house was, at best, sporadic.

"Hi mom. What's up?"

Alice was listening intently, and making occasional uh-huh and hmm noises, as well as nodding at the plastic object. She put the phone down and started hopping.

"Oh no, are you turning into a rabbit?"

Alice was now jumping, spinning around with her arms stretched out.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes ..."

Will thought she was taking her rabbit transmutation very well, and he quite enjoyed watching her jump.

"I did it, I did it, I did it ..."

"Err, Alice? Hello?"

Alice stopped jumping up and down, and jumped on Will.

"That was mom. She just heard from my agent. I got the part."

"That's nice." Will was puzzled because she usually got parts before the parts were even thought of. Producers, directors, writers, and actors were usually falling over themselves to work with Alice.

"This is a BIG part, Will. This could be the AA."

"AA?"

"Academy Award... the ..."

"Yeah, I know what that is. Congratulations."

"Can't say too much now, but this is BIG, Will." Will got the picture.

"So, do you have to get back?"

"Three days."

Will's heart sank, along with his jaw. He'd just accepted that Alice might be good for him, and he for her, and now she was going to be thousands of miles away with her rich, famous and very attractive crowd of show-business types.

"I'll miss you."

"Aww, poor little Willy."

"I will."

"Will you be able to get back here? In a few weeks? Months?"

"Here?"

"Yes, here. Unless you're dumping me."

"No, not dumped yet, need more man love. Well, it's a long way ..."

"From L.A., I know."

"From London."

"London?"

"London, England. Silly Willy." She was back to the old Alice, and Will didn't miss the horny rabbit Goddess at all.

"Bitch."

"Hehe, let's go celebrate!"

"You're paying."

"You bet. Come on."

Will was relieved, on a number of counts. As they headed out to celebrate Alice's new and handily-located job, Will stopped and picked up the eight-pointed star.

"You wanna take this for safe-keeping?"

"Nah, stupid thing probably fell out of a cornflakes packet. Come on!"

Locking the door, Will turned and saw Alice with a hand cupping an ear.

"What's up?"

"Listen."

Will listened. Suddenly he was aware of a horrible scratching noise like thick, pointed claws scrabbling across the tarmac. A shiver pulsed through his body; what ravenous beast was coming for him now? He froze, but Alice was hopping again - out of the path of the marauding monster. She let out a scream and hopped into his arms as the creature shot past, disappearing into the dark hedge beyond his garden.

"Jesus, that was creepy. But kinda cool. Don't see many badgers round here."

"Will, you seem to exert some sort of magnetic attraction over animals - it's kinda weird, ya know?"

"It's just my animal magnetism. You should know."

"I'm not an animal."

"Oh, Alice, I have to disagree." Will beamed, and Alice punched him.

Will eased the Rover from its space and slowly edged out of the close, looking out for badgers, rabbits, donkeys, monkeys, parrots and zebras. If they were there, they were hiding, so he accelerated up the road, wondering if he smelt like any of the aforementioned creatures.

"Maybe you smell like one."

"One what?"

"One of those animals that find you so attractive."

"You read my mind." Witch.

"Of course I did. And don't call me a witch."

That was creepy.

"And don't call me creepy."

"OK, this is getting weird."

"I think it's kinda fun!"

"Alice, you're scaring me. Something about you is... different."

"Reading your mind? I could always do that." She thought how much she liked teasing him but that she would probably put his mind at ease later.

Will desperately tried to think about laundry, dish-washing, clouds... anything other than what he usually thought about. He thought he'd have to kill Alice if this continued.

"You can't kill me."

"OK. Kill me. This is worse than death."

Alice smiled, enigmatically. Will thought this was very, very unfair. He thought about food.

"Italian it is, then." Alice was enjoying herself.

Will drove to the only Italian restaurant in town, thinking about the things he wanted to say to Alice, but hadn't dared to. He figured he may as well make use of her powers. Alice was digesting his thoughts, and as they walked arm-in-arm to the restaurant she gave an answer.

"I don't think I killed Marvin."

"If you didn't, the bloody rabbits or the burying-in-a-wet-hole thing did."

"We'll see." More enigmaticism followed.

Alice knew Will was worried about her, but she didn't feel at all worried. On the contrary, she felt as if her life was about to get a lot better, as well as Will's, and Marvin's. She followed Will up a flight of stairs, emerging into a modest and dimly-lit room. A waiter greeted them.

"Good evening Sir, good evening Miss." He showed them to a small, candle-lit table.

Alice tried to read the waiter's mind, but there was nothing.

"Why am I always _Miss_?"

"People assume you're my daughter, I guess."

They ordered wine, and Will allowed Alice to select dishes from the menu, which he couldn't understand.

"I only know spaghetti Bolognese, or lasagne."

Alice smiled and held his hands across the table.

"We have to go back."

"Where?"

"Gidwell."

"Are you mad?!"

"Trust me?"

Will felt he had little choice but to not say _no bloody way_.

"Look, about this mind-reading thing."

"Don't worry, I was kidding - sort of. I can, sometimes, sense things. It's hard to explain. Tonight, it seemed clearer. Doesn't work on everybody." She looked at the waiter.

"It's like you're in my head, and that's a dark, muddled, dangerous place for you to be."

"It's not like that... I feel... at one, with you."

"Really?"

Alice smiled, less enigmatically. "Really."

Will seemed happier, and almost knew what she meant. Soul mates.

"Yes, soul mates."

"You're doing it again."

"Sorry, I'll turn it off."

"You can do that?"

"No. Dork."

Will smiled. At least she still had her sense of humour. "But why do you want to go back?"

"I dunno, I just know I have to."

"OK, but I'm taking precautions."

"What?"

"You go in first."

"Wuss."

"Yes."

"Isn't it funny, how things turn out?"

Will wondered why she was still asking him questions, but she didn't reply.

"Well, I never thought I'd be sitting here with you, having been almost killed by a man who you then killed, and after having the best few hours of my life with you. So yes, it's funny – _weird_ funny."

"You never know what life has in store."

"Which is why I have my philosophy."

"Live and let live?"

"Yeah, and with an open mind. What surprises me most is that you were so open to me."

"I try not to judge books by their covers. I like interesting, intelligent people. Never thought I'd sleep with you, but there ya go. Must be fate."

"I hope so."

"Whatever happens..."

Alice had a look that Will recognized, and he interrupted.

"Don't. Don't talk about the future. Just let it happen."

Alice understood, and zipped her lip. She didn't want to think about the future, except for her Oscar nomination, and inevitable win. Everything else would just fall into place.

The waiter returned, still with an unreadable or empty mind, and they tucked into their pasta. After the third glass of wine Alice's lunchtime session was catching up with her. Will's cheesy quips and clever witticisms had her in stitches and Will was just happy to be the entertainer. She had entertained him enough - on screen, as well as off - and it felt good to be leading the play.

The evening passed quickly, and it was getting late. They were the last ones to leave the restaurant and even some of the staff had sloped off by the time the waiter persuaded them he should go home. Alice linked arms with Will, and he gave her a short tour of the town centre. It was eerily quiet, probably too cold for most. The tree-lined main street was always lit with soft yellow lights, but now there were also garish Christmas-y creations hanging across it.

"Do you like Christmas, Will?"

"Not really. It's all about the commerce now."

"True, but what about the spirit of Christmas."

"You forget who you're talking to."

"Sorry, Mr Devil."

"Are you religious?"

"Umm, yeah, I guess. I was brought up that way."

"Me too."

Alice thought Will's smile was enigmatic, and left him to his thoughts. They completed a circuit of the town centre and arrived back to find a flyer on the Rover.

"Shit, not again. Watch my back."

Will picked it up and read the words. "Lonely this Christmas? Come and make new friends at the Newington 55+ Club."

"There ya go, pops - sorted."

Will punched Alice, before smothering her giggles with his mouth.

## Chapter Twenty-One

Alice had kept her promise to Will and massaged his aching back muscles. He adored it, perhaps more so than the wonderful kissing and bodily thrusting that followed. Will would have lived very happily ever after, wed to a skilled back masseuse. Alice had also enjoyed it, but not as much as the thrusting. Now they were slumbering, limbs entwined, minds in tune. Alice couldn't read Will's dreams, but had a pretty fair idea what they would be about. Just in case, she'd brought a bucket of water to bed; this Will found amusing and slightly scary.

The effects of a day's drinking, eating, digging and killing had taken their toll, and the two-hour session finished Will off. It was well after eleven in the morning when Alice woke and he was still snoring, albeit serenely. She got up and made some breakfast with what was left from their one shopping spree. At twelve, she returned to bed and found Will still blissfully asleep. Shaking him gently, she kissed his lips, holding her mouth over his, sealing his warm breath inside.

Will spluttered. "Drowning!"

"No. Just suffocating."

"God, can't a man wake up peacefully?"

Will had slept well, and felt unusually sprightly. He was soon up and chasing Alice with a bucket of water. Alice swore she'd kill him, as she had no more clothes.

"We need to go to my hotel. I'm checking out, if that's OK?

"Out of here?"

"Out of my hotel."

"Where ya gonna stay?"

"With that nice Italian waiter."

"OK."

"After I've screwed him, will you take me to Gidwell?"

"OK."

"Did you hear me?"

"Screw the waiter, then drive to the grave of the man you murdered."

"Will!"

"Yes, yes, OK. But this is definitely the last time."

"We'll see. Remember - whatever happens, happens."

Will could hardly renounce his philosophy now, because she might then start making plans for her future and they would invariably exclude him.

"Yes, we'll see. _Que Sera, Sera_."

"Good. Hungry?"

"Only for you, my little dumpling."

"What?"

"It's a cooked -"

"I know what a dumpling is, and usually they're round and podgy."

"And tasty."

"Hmm, just watch it." She looked down at her belly, and when she breathed out, there were hints of a pot. Very, very, slight hints.

"I'm sooo fat."

"Right, and I'm a banana."

"Come on - breakfast, hotel, grave."

"Coming."

Will had a coffee and fag, as Alice had finished the milk. He didn't care because he was high on life and higher on Alice. He had two days at most, and would enjoy them.

"You should learn to drive here."

"Yeah, I will. I'll be in London for a while, so maybe I'll get a rental."

"Cool, then you can drive me to the pub, and I can drink."

"Can't say I've noticed you holding back."

"Two is my limit."

"Two? Per hour?"

"Nag, nag, nag."

"Punch." She punched him. "Will ... I've been thinking."

"Not about the future, I hope."

"Yes. But listen, please."

Will zipped his mouth.

"How would you feel about working for me?"

"As what? Sex slave?"

"Slaves don't get paid. I could use a driver-come-guide-come-bodyguard. Let's face it, the last agency guy didn't work out."

"Serious?"

"Serious. But I don't want to offend your masculinity or sense of self-reliance."

"Hey, no offence taken. What's the pay like?"

"Lousy, but you get to sleep with the client."

"Is she good in bed?"

"The best."

"Deal."

Alice was happy, Will was happy. She had one more person to make happy, and she could stop making people happy, except Will who she hoped she could make happy some more.

"Drive, biatch."

"Yes, Mam!"

Will arrived at the hotel and acknowledged the doorman. He pulled up outside the main entrance. He was now an official driver and lover of a guest, who was checking out, so he'd bloody well park where he liked. He got out and walked past the exasperated man.

"Good afternoon!"

"Sir." _Grrrrrr._

Will followed Alice to her room, and contemplated how his life had changed since he was there last. Alice even allowed him to help her pack. He wanted to call for help with the bags, but Alice spoiled his fun. She had a trolley, of course. Waving goodbye to the doorman, and leaving him with a cloud of smoke, Will eased the car into the heavy traffic. He was in no rush to get to Gidwell, and would enjoy Alice's anecdotes about some famous people. She knew he wouldn't repeat them, and if he did she knew he knew she'd cut his balls off, and probably sack him. By the time they arrived at the familiar lay-by on the edge of the moor, they were already planning a family - of rabbits.

"Tools?" Will wanted to take his shovel; it wasn't dark, but there was no knowing what exotic and bloodthirsty creature might be lurking in those woods.

"Nah, we'll be fine."

Alice seemed to be better informed than he, and Will was getting quite curious about the trip. She led him as promised, to the well. Will was half-expecting to find a swarm of coppers and TV crews, but it was quiet - very quiet. Alice strode purposefully to the mound of soggy earth where the well had been. Will held back, waiting to see what happened. He was confident vampires and ghosts only came out at night - but that was on TV and this wasn't, unless Alice had hidden the cameras and crew very well.

"Come on." Alice beckoned.

Will obeyed his new employer, mindful of the probationary period.

"Trust me, Will?"

"Errr, of course." He had his fingers crossed.

Alice took her precious amulet from her cape, pricked her finger on a sharp edge, and threw the bloody object on top of the mound. Will was speechless, and more than a little peeved.

"After what I went through, you're chucking it back?"

"Wait."

Will waited, but wasn't happy about it.

"See."

"What?"

"Look."

Will looked, and saw nothing. _A depression where the well was – big deal._ Then it occurred to him, it had been a mound two minutes ago.

"It's sinking."

"OK, done." Alice picked up her amulet, wiped the mud off, and walked away. "Come on."

"Err, that's a neat way to level ground, but what exactly is the point?"

Alice was standing ten feet away, looking all around.

"Listen."

Will listened. There was a faint rustling from the autumn leaves, but little else.

"Leaves rustling."

"Yeah... and?"

"Look."

Will looked at the leaves by his feet. They were pretty colours, but he'd seen similar ones before.

" Not down there, look." Alice pointed.

Will followed the point, and fell to his arse. _Shit._ "Ghost!"

Alice waited for the figure to approach.

"Hey, Alice, what's up?"

"Hey, Marvin. Feeling better?"

"Yeah, err, why did you call me here?"

"To tell you, you don't need to worry."

"Umm, OK."

"See your doctor, he'll explain."

"Sure, will do. I feel kinda weird, Alice."

"You'll be just fine, trust me." Alice reached out and held his hand. "Trust me, it's all fine. Come on slave, we have one more stop. Fancy a drink, Marvin?"

"Sure, err, I'm not sure where I am, or how I got here."

"We'll get you home, won't we, Will?"

"Errrr, will we?" Will was still sat on the ground, banging his head on a tree trunk. Clearly his life was being controlled by some higher being, so he saw little point arguing about it. He got up, brushed his butt, and followed Alice. Marvin followed Will, wondering why only his head hurt, when he'd suffered from bowel cancer for months.

"Pub." Alice enjoyed her newly official status as boss.

"Any particular pub?"

"Rabbits."

"Spike's pub?"

"Yep."

"You gotta be kidding ..."

"Drive, biatch."

Will drove, desperately hoping the pub would be closed or burned down. Alice wanted to enjoy the drive across the little heath in peace, and her passengers sensed it. She only spoke to give Will directions, and to call him a dork when he still took the wrong turn.

Will pulled into the track, disappointed to see the pub still standing. Wayne's van was parked exactly where it was yesterday, and he guessed Dick Bent would still be sat in the same seat, probably cradling the same brandy glass. Will was getting good at guessing. He held the door open for Alice, waved Marvin through, and popped his head round to see who was looking at him. Spike's head was behind the shelf, so he didn't spot Will. Wayne had his head in a box of pork scratchings, and Dicky was sat at the end of the bar sipping brandy. Will sheepishly waved at Dicky, who seemed surprisingly pleased to see Alice's pervy uncle. Will supposed either he was more drunk, or had sobered up and forgotten all about him.

Alice invited Marvin to sit, and approached the bar.

"Hey, Spike."

The waist turned and a softly-burred voice boomed down.

"Oh, hello Alice, how are you? Won't be a tick. Just doing a stock-take."

Wayne popped up out of the box, holding a lemon. "Hello again."

"Hi Wayne." Alice turned to Dicky, "Hello."

"Hi, nice to see you."

Spike's head loomed, "I can finish that later, looks the same as last month. Can't see the point myself, but you know how accountants are." His eyes flicked in the direction of Dicky.

"Oh, he's an accountant?"

"Part-time, well, retired really, but he didn't want to spend all his time breeding rabbits, you know how it is - got to have a hobby."

"So," Alice thought carefully, "accountancy is his hobby?"

"That's it. I mean, he's got all the qualifications and what-have-you, so it's all above-board."

"Sure." Alice smiled, and turned to see Will and Marvin sharing a gormless expression.

"Beer?"

"Uh-huh."

"Three pints of..... Badger?"

"Coming right up. No cocktails today? I was reading up on them last night, you wouldn't believe some of the names! Made me blush, and little Wayne fell off his stool. Could have been nasty."

"Maybe later."

"Power drill, wasn't it?"

"Screwdriver."

"Oh that's right, always get those mixed up. Take a seat, Wayne will bring your beers over. Gives him something to do, you know, not much demand for three-foot plumbers really, especially since he nearly drowned in a septic tank. Nasty business that, and the insurance premiums now... whoa, sky-high."

"Sure." Alice joined her drivers, past and present.

"Alice, any chance you can tell me what the hell is going on? Just curious, like."

"Simple. I figured out what the amulet does and how to use it. Marvin was going to die... it's OK Marvin, I know about your plan... and he thought he could save himself by sacrificing you. He got it wrong - he was supposed to sacrifice himself. You need ten drops of blood - anybody's I guess - not ten pints. Good job I came along when I did."

Marvin assumed he was dead, but thought he might as well make friends here, in what he assumed was some sort of waiting-room for the after-life.

"I see. I guess I have to thank you, Alice."

"How do you know all this, and did you know all this before you killed Marvin?"

Alice looked at Will. "I'm not sure... and no, of course not." She winked.

Wayne arrived with a tray of beers, and Marvin helped him lift it onto the table. "Somebody die?"

"Him."

"Me."

"Hello mate, Wayne's the name, plumbing's my game. Take a card, you never know when you might need me."

"Great catchphrase, Wayne."

"Cheers, Alice."

Marvin thought a plumber might indeed be useful in the afterlife, so eagerly pocketed a card.

"So, Will, what do you do." Marvin saw no need to make friends with Will, but would be polite in case he was friends with Wayne.

"He's a writer."

Will had thought he was Alice's driver, but if she wanted him to write too he would need to re-negotiate the contract.

"Errrr... well, Alice can tell you all about me, evidently."

"Will wrote a book, and if it wasn't for that book, none of us would be here now. Especially you, Marvin."

Wayne overheard, and told Spike, who told Dick. Soon, there were six people around the table, and Will had to take centre stage. Alice went to the bar and made herself a screwdriver. Marvin was thanking Will for saving his life, Dick was asking him to write a book with rabbits in it, Spike wanted a book about his American-friendly pub, and Wayne wanted to see more dwarfs in popular fiction. Alice did a tour of the bar, allowing Will to relieve her of some more fame. She wondered at the museum-like exhibits, and decided there really ought to be a film about an English country pub. Soon she was back with Will, and she held his arm as he recounted the story of his hugely unsuccessful novel.

"So, my darling Will, what's your next book about?"

"Yes, tell us."

"Errr, well I don't have any ideas, just yet. Feel free to throw some at me."

"Rabbits!"

"Pubs for Americans!"

"Plumbing dwarfs!"

"Well, Will, will it be about any of those?"

Will looked at Alice, and knew what she was thinking. Witch.

"Maybe I can incorporate all of those ideas."

"Good one, yeah, love it, got wide market appeal."

"Thanks, Spike."

"You must have some ideas yourself, hun?"

"Well, I'd quite like to write about a little girl who dreams of being a famous actress, and ends up being a Goddess."

"Oooo, not sure there's a market for that, sounds a bit silly. Goddess? Takes a long time to become a Goddess I reckon, don't you, Wayne?"

"Long time, longer than a book."

"Rabbits. Short life cycle, lots of sex."

"What you gonna call it, Will?" Marvin had so far, to Will's relief, remained quiet about the subject.

Will really didn't fancy writing another book. It meant two weeks of work, thinking up new jokes, and no bugger would want to read it anyway. He really couldn't see the point. Plus, he knew damn well someone would steal his best ideas and write something for one of the big publishers, who would spend millions promoting it. Worse, there'd be a film - and he wouldn't get any credit, let alone any dosh, or to meet the actors.

"Come on Will, humour us." Alice wanted a lot more than humouring.

"I dunno," he looked at Dick, who was pleading with him, "how about _White Rabbits_?"

"Brilliant, the title alone will sell it!" Dick was salivating.

"Sounds a little too much like the song." Wayne's knowledge impressed Will.

"How about _Odd Bunnies_." Alice winked.

"Awful, slagging off rabbits, never work." Dicky was foaming at the mouth.

"Tell you what, I'll sleep on it, let you know soon."

His audience were moderately satisfied with that, and allowed him free passage from the pub. Alice passed Marvin a couple of fifty-pound notes and told him to call a cab to her hotel, where she'd reserved a room for him.

Outside, Alice walked arm-in-arm with Will, looking at his face.

Will was unnerved. "What?"

"So are you going to write a book?"

"You think I should?"

"Yeah."

"It'll be shit, like before. Face it, I'm a loser."

"You're not a loser, think what you have done these last few days."

"I am a loser, and I don't mind. Losers get to live quiet lives. There's no hassle from twats wanting to beat you down if you're down already."

"Will! I am sooo gonna kick your ass if you don't brighten up."

"Sorry. Weird day, what with all the sex and resurrections."

"Now... _The Odd Bunnies_."

Will smiled. " _White Rabbits_."

"Neither of us is a rabbit."

"Err, well by definition... bunnies?"

"Yeah, but bunnies just sound cute, like a pet name for lovers."

"Are we lovers?"

"Absolutely."

"I mean, lovers, not... sexers."

"Well, I'm in love with you."

Will stopped and kissed her, then stared into her eyes. Neither saw the shooting stars flying over their heads, or the rabbits watching from yonder field. Will knew what Alice wanted to hear, even if she already knew the answer.

"Odd Bunnies it is!"

Alice punched him. "Bastard!"

"What, I thought that's what you wanted to hear."

Alice was in a huff.

"Oh, and I'm in love with you."

Alice punched him for making her wait so long, then stuck her tongue out.

"You better make me sound good in this book."

"I'm a writer, not a bloody magician."*

Alice kicked his shin, and put naughty thoughts in his mind - all the way home. Will started work on his book the next day. It flopped.

The end.*

#  Backward

Overheard conversation between Alison Crass and her driver Will, after Will's book mysteriously appeared in her email inbox.

_Alison: Will, come into my office._

_Will: Shit._

_Alison: What the hell is this?_

_Will: Shit._

_Alison: Who is Alice Cross based on?_

_Will: Nobody, she's a fictional character._

_Alison: She's the same height as me, same age, has the same hair, same eyes, same profession_ _._

_Will: Coincidence. And I changed a few things._

_Alison: Have you got an infatuation with me?_

_Will: Course not._

_Alison: Then why describe her as Goddess. And why are we having sex in the book?!_

_Will: So nobody would mistake her for you._

_Will lost his job with Miss Crass, and is currently looking for work driving young, blonde actresses._

_He regrets he is unable to provide references due to an administrative error._

#  _Forward_

_Will's sequel to The Odd Bunnies –_ _Odd Bunnies: The Revenge_ _\- will be out soon, when he can be bothered writing it._

#

# _Thanks_

Thanks to Charles Darley and Steve Polkinghorne for their help with the research and editing. Thanks to Douglas Adams (whom I have never met) for inspiring me to write at a time when my Grammar School was doing its best to put me off writing by force-feeding students a load of pretentious twaddle. Thanks to my Muse, who shall remain nameless and has in fact done nothing except exist and respond to my pesky letters with signed photos. Thanks to the internet for opening up a world of possibilities, and to Nook Press for making the publication process far easier than it used to be.

Thanks most of all to the readers who purchase this book and in doing so make the writing process worthwhile. This author is never going to get rich, or even moderately well-off, on the proceeds, but does appreciate the audience.

If you would like me to thank you personally, send money.

#

#

# Facebook

Sam Cullan's Facebook page is:

www.facebook.com/samcullan

Feel free to add Sam as a friend. You can send messages, food, job offers, money etc.

# The End

This is the end.

