Page 76 of Dream a Little Dream

“I’m going to get another drink,” Kenny said, pulling his arm free from her clutches, but with enough finality that Heather looked at him, smile faltering. He then pointed at the glasses in the group he was in a circle with. “Can I get anyone anything?”And that would help appease her fear. Who bought a round of drinks for the colleagues of a date he wasn’t interested in?

He did.

There were murmurs of gratitude, and a multitude of drinks fired at him. He’d remember them as he made his escape to the bar, holding up his hand to the server. When he came over, Kenny reeled off the drinks order but added one more, “And a neat whisky.”

Thankfully, the whisky came first, and he knocked it back in one fell swoop before the drinks all gathered on the bar and he paid.

“Thought you could use some help,” Heather said as she sidled up next to him.

“Thanks. I can’t remember who ordered what.”

Heather smiled. Really smiled. Bright and eager and really quite stunning.

God, he wished he’d met her first. Wished he’d conjured up feelings for her before someone else drowned them out.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she gathered up three pint glasses.

“Yeah.” Kenny shook his head, counteracting the lie. “I’m just tired. Sorry. I know I’m not all here.”

“Is it about the boy at your university?”

Kenny inhaled. “Yeah. It’s shocked us all. Tighter restrictions on campus. Puts a strain on teaching at the moment. What first year wants to come to class anymore?”

“I can imagine.” She rested her head on his shoulder in what he assumed was her way of comforting him when she had her hands full. “Thank you for coming, though. They’ve all been asking about you. Think they thought I was making you up.”

Kenny breathed out a laugh. “You have a good bunch of colleagues.”

“I do, don’t I?” She glanced back to the bunch chatting in a circle ranging from those just out of their PGCE to veteran teachers like Janice. “Do I get to meet your lot next?”

“Stuffy academics? Not sure you’ll want to.”

“You’renot stuffy.” She leaned in, her wine breath trickling into his ear. “You’re a sexy academic.” She then winked and scurried off over to her team.

Kenny watched her sashay her hips, her floaty skirt swishing as she handed out the pints and the conversation went back to whatever it was teachers talked about. The state of the SATS, the dwindling budgets, the lack of teaching assistants and the cost of SEND provision. Kenny rejoined her, once again on her arm, and once again desperate to make himself want this.Enjoythis.

After a couple more drinks, where the party looked in no way ready to finish, he leaned down to Heather’s ear. “Would you hate me if I left?”

Heather peered up at him, slightly tipsy, wide green eyes filled with disappointment. “We could both go?”

Kenny shook his head. “You’re having fun and I’m barely keeping my eyes open. Stay.” He gave her a soft peck on the cheek. “I’ll call you.”

After saying his farewells and ‘nice-to-meet-yous’, he meandered away from the party, not before hearing the low rumbles of Heather’s colleagues talking about him with all theirooosandahhs. He opened the pub door to leave, then shot a look over his shoulder in time to witness her glowing cheeks and bashful smile. Despite his lack of conversation and premature departure, it hadn’t dampened her and her colleagues’ view of him. But then, he’d heard enough about her ex-husband to know it took little to hold the trophy of her affections.

He hated himself a little more on stepping out into the cool October night. He should be honest with her. Tell her he wasn’t ready. That any other time and place, she’d have been perfect.He would do that. He would. But not via text. He wasn’t that much of an arsehole.

The air was damp, a fine mist hanging in the air as he walked, steps leading him instinctively toward the woodland bordering the town. It was his usual route to walk home, and he wouldn’t allow the past to stop him from taking it. The noise of the roads, the bars, the shops, faded into the background as he entered the pathway leading into Ryston woods beside the river, the canopy overhead blocking out the last remnants of light. Wet leaves squelched beneath his dress shoes, and the scent of decaying wood filled his lungs. It was eerie, a stillness making every snap of a twig echo in the silence.

As he wandered deeper, his thoughts clouded, internally retracing the steps of Rahul Mishra. Had he taken this route? Had he known where he was going? What had his motivation been for being here? Had he been called here?Luredhere? Or had he just wanted some semblance of peace amidst the chaos of his new life and stumbled upon his brutal end? He’d never know the true answers to those questions. But he could paint a picture in his head using the knowledge he’d gained from the information collected along with his expertise in behavioural science. What he deduced was a grim picture of a young man just wanting, so desperately, to try something new. And through that, he felt an instant connection to him.

Kenny had been a young man like Rahul before. Confused and unsure about himself. He’d taken a path just like the one Rahul had. Albeit metaphorically. When he’d been in his late teens, he’d felt different and wanted to know if it was more than curiosity. He, too, had dived in to find out. It had taken a few more years to really understand himself after that. It had taken Jack for him to realise he didn’t need to choose a side. That it was the person drawing him in, not the sex. And it was Jack who’d helped him realise he could be whole again, despite himalways feeling as if one half of himself had died when Jessica had.

He wanted to feel like that again.

Wanted. Needed.Whole.

The woodland grew darker, more oppressive, and the ground was slick with fallen leaves and mud, moisture clinging to his skin and making his hair frizz. The trees loomed tall and silent, their bark glistening with the remnants of an earlier rain. This could be such a tranquil place. A beautiful spot.

Then he stopped, holding in the trail of condensation he’d release into the darkness at what he saw in front of him. The makeshift memorial of wilted flowers scattered around the area where Rahul had been recovered was now drenched by the October rain, and the memory of the crime scene tugged at him. But it wasn’t that causing him to hold his breath. It wasn’t something. It was someone.

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