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‘ W hat did he say he’d been doing?’ Andrew arrived as Rose was about to phone the Kirkglen doctor, because after twelve hours, Simon was only just waking.

‘It was a bit garbled, something about being in the forest all day, talking to some old person. I wanted to call a doctor but he said no, and when I rang you, you said no. He could have concussion.’

‘You said there wasn’t much damage to the car. So the impact can’t have been great.’

‘Great enough for the airbag to inflate.’

Patrick had come earlier to collect both cars and take them for repairs. ‘Have you had any sleep?’

‘Rob and I did shifts. He had to go to work at eight, but he was here till then. We took it in turns to sit with Simon and sleep.’

Andrew looked at her but said nothing.

‘Rob’s a good friend. He knows about the werewolf thing.’

‘Can you trust him?’

‘Yes, completely.’ Rose remembered the hand in her hair, the taste of his lips. ‘And er,’ she could feel her face heat up again but kept her eyes steady, ‘he knows about Sky as well.’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

Andrew went to examine Simon, and Rose went to shower and change.

When she came out of her room, Andrew was making himself a cup of tea.

‘Have you had breakfast?’ he asked.

‘Shouldn’t I be asking you that, you’ve driven all this way?’

‘I was coming anyway, just left earlier than I’d planned. Come and sit down.’

‘How is he?’

‘As far as concussion is concerned, it’s minimal. He’ll be fine as far as that’s concerned. A bit of a headache, a bit of disorientation. Might make him bad-tempered. Nothing to worry about.’

‘Something’s bothering you though.’

‘Has he ever done drugs to your knowledge?’

‘No. He’s always been a bit of a health freak apart from the odd beer, but I couldn’t smell alcohol last night.’

Andrew swirled the dregs of his tea.

‘There’s something wrong,’ he said. ‘Either he’s taken something, or the changes are happening too fast. You said his mood seemed odd.’

‘Yes, sort of subdued but with things brewing underneath. That’s not Simon. That’s you.’

‘He’s been very emotional. Neither of us are like that.’ She thought about her tears soaking into Rob’s shirt and felt herself blush.

The doorbell rang. Rose frowned, Patrick had said he would phone before bringing either car back.

It was Emmeline.

‘Hello dear,’ she said, stepping over the threshold before Rose could stop her. Hester followed in her wake, raking Rose with her eyes from her head to her bare feet as if she suspected that Rose had been carousing all night and had only just got up.

Emmeline marched into the sitting room. Hester, as usual, stood a little behind. They turned simultaneously when Andrew walked in after them. Emmeline raised her eyebrows and glanced at Rose’s damp hair.

‘We wondered if we could have a word with Mr Henderson,’ she said.

‘We’d like to know how the talk for the Guild is progressing.

It’s next Wednesday,’ she added as an aside to Andrew, ‘in case you didn’t know.

Naturally nothing is presented that hasn’t been passed by me first. Or is he from home?

There’s no car here, but then yours isn’t either dear. ’

She took her coat off and handed it to Andrew, then sat down. ‘We didn’t walk this time, did we Hester, but we really are parched.’

She smiled. Hester, after a second, set down on the very edge of the sofa next to her, hands folded, amber eyes fixed on Rose.

‘I’ll do it,’ said Andrew and left the room, dropping the coat over the back of the armchair as he passed .

‘Simon’s not well,’ said Rose. ‘I’m not sure he’ll be able to. He er..’

‘It’s a little early for him to be unwell, isn’t it?’ said Emmeline.

‘Early?’ Rose looked at her watch then crossed her arms.

Hester stared at her and said nothing, but something which might have been a snigger emanated from her.

‘I thought he might be well for quite, eh …eight days,’ suggested Emmeline.

‘That’s very specific,’ Rose answered, putting her chin up.

‘Och but eh, chronic illnesses are often cyclical , aren’t they?’

‘It’s nothing to do with his illness, he had a bump in the car. He’s got a bit of concussion.’

‘Is that so, dear?’ said Emmeline, rising from the sofa, Hester a second behind. ‘I was a trained nurse, perhaps I could go and see how he is.’

‘This is his doctor,’ argued Rose, as Andrew came back into the room with tea. ‘You’ve assessed him, haven’t you Dr Ford? There’s nothing further to do.’

‘You’re a specialist , though,’ commented Emmeline, as if it was a disease, ‘whereas good sensible nursing…’

‘Come and have a look if you like,’ said Andrew, touching Rose’s back and steering her forward.

In his room, Simon lay in bed. His eyes opened when they traipsed in. He frowned at Emmeline, then scowled at Rose.

Emmeline smirked. ‘Just seeing how you were Dr Henderson. I wouldn’t want to think you couldn’t do the talk on Wednesday.’

‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ Simon muttered. ‘But I’ve got a bit of a headache at the moment.’ He closed his eyes.

‘He’ll be fine,’ said Andrew. ‘He just needs some peace and quiet.’

‘I’m only after your intended script,’ persisted Emmeline. ‘I’d like to see it so I can approve it.’

Simon opened his eyes again, then glanced at Rose. ‘Rose can find it.’ He rolled over.

‘It must be peaceful being so close to the forest,’ said Hester. They all jumped. Rose had forgotten she was there.

‘Come on ladies,’ said Andrew. ‘Your tea’s going cold. Let’s leave Dr Henderson in peace.’

In the kitchen, Rose searched Simon’s laptop for something she could give Emmeline.

Simon normally spoke from the briefest notes. He would have some sort of visual display and pretty much ad lib the rest. But his glance at her had suggested something else.

His file-naming conventions were all over the place; she spent half her life re-organising them and now Rose wasn’t sure what she was looking for.

She could hear Andrew chatting to the others and marvelled that he could do it without losing his temper. Emmeline was rustling and making conciliatory noises, Andrew was demurring. It all sounded so polite.

Finally, Rose found something that looked possible and suppressed a snort of laughter.

Simon must have been anticipating Emmeline’s request. The file was called ‘ To send to the old witch to keep her happy ’.

She opened it and under the heading ‘ Talk for Kirkglen Guild September ’ saw a script unlike anything Simon would ever give.

Rose suspected he’d pretty much cut and pasted chunks of stuff from the internet.

He’d even managed to insert some random wild-life photographs.

She didn’t realise he knew how to do it.

She checked the contents over to make sure there was nothing contentious in it, noting with a slight smirk, a number of references to bats, cows, toads and one reference to a dragon, then pressed print.

‘Here you go,’ she said, with a smile, handing it to Emmeline and holding up her coat. ‘I’m sure you’ll need to be off now, it’ll be quite a read. He’s a really excellent speaker. The talk’ll be much much better than a dry bit of writing.’

Emmeline stood up and took the paper. A slight movement of the head and Hester rose too. ‘Thank you dear,’ she said. ‘I do so hope Mr Henderson is better soon and that he stays that way for at least eight days.’ A smile, a tilt of the head, and Rose had ushered them out of the door.

‘He’s not really going to give that talk is he?’ said Andrew.

‘Not if I can stop him,’ said Rose.