Sarah convinced Luke to go back to work for the afternoon. She knew he'd taken a chance on calling in sick that morning, and guessed that he'd be able to make up the lost time if he came up with a suitable excuse. He'd taken her back to the farm and kissed her goodbye in a reluctant way.

It took her a while to shake free from the image of mysterious blood in the morgue. It kept creeping back in her mind when she least expected it.

The weather that afternoon grew cooler than the past few days so she took a mug of tea out into the garden. The house held too many memories for her to deal with. She sat on the edge of one of the sun loungers, the one Luke had slept on.

Staring at the collection of cigarette butts in the flowerpot, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Yes, there was definitely heat between her and Luke, and it had been everything she'd hoped, and yet, Duncan still weighed heavy on her mind.

He'd given her a way out. She could imagine the way her life would change if she took him up on his offer. No more worrying about the farm and its finances. No more sad, lonely nights full of nightmares. Just the bright lights of the city and a fulfilling business to keep her occupied. She also got the message that he'd been offering her more than a roommate too. But that would have to take a longer route into existence. Especially after Luke anyway. Was she being fair to Luke to be even considering this?

Sighing and leaning back fully into the seat, Sarah watched the fluffy clouds racing across the sky. The strong winds above the flat fenlands nearby sped them along in competition with the sunshine. Similar to watching one of those computer platform games like the guys played together, she could imagine the birds jumping from one cloud to another, accompanied by bouncy, electronic tunes. Why couldn't her life be that simple? How would she get herself out of this mess?

After a long period of self contemplation, the distant, low chime of the village church bell signalled the time as four o'clock. She roused herself quickly and went into the house. She'd better smarten herself up a bit before she went to see Duncan. Wierd. That was the first time she'd ever consciously noticed that it was only when she expected to see Duncan that she worried about her presentation. She couldn't remember feeling the need to do that when she expected to meet Luke. Does that mean anything? If so, is it a particularly good or bad thing? Oh, who's to know!
Giving up her train of thought, Sarah got ready quickly and bundled herself into her car.

The engine did not want to get going. She prayed that she wouldn't flood it as she manhandled the choke stick. There was a trick to this. Whenever the old banger decided to be awkward, a method and rhythm needed to be adhered to. Turn the key, rev the accelerator, pull and push the choke three times.
No? Okay, again.
No? Damn it, again.
No? Oh you bitch! Come on, again.
Yes, finally.

Revving her way up the driveway, Sarah sprayed the gravel in a wide area. When she reached the main road, she took a deep breath and calmed herself down. She soon settled into the mantra of the wheels rolling over the road, her radio on, her mind turning. Jon Bon Jovi singing out 'Destination Anywhere' to keep her company.

She managed to beat the rush hour traffic and pulled the car up pretty close to Duncan's flat. As she got out of the vehicle, a gust of wind swirled around her, whipping her hair around her face. Spitting while she freed the strands of hair from her mouth, she had the feeling that she was being watched.

She glanced up quickly at the windows of the row of Edwardian houses. Their window eyes of glass, dark and shiny in the late afternoon light, followed her down the street. She took her time to study Duncan's top floor window. Maybe he'd been watching and waiting for her to arrive? She didn't think so. All the same she studied the living room window carefully as she approached.

She reached the garden gate and looked down to lift up the catch. Just within that brief second of transition between window and latch, she saw someone move. Not Duncan. She was sure of that. It looked like a child, no, not looked, felt. Yes, it felt like a child.

Sarah shivered and stood with her hand resting on the latch. She forced herself to look up into the window again. No one was there.

She buzzed the intercom and Duncan rewarded her with one of his usual humorous greetings.
"I'm sorry, but I never ordered a prostitute today. Thanks all the same."

"Open the door, you wanker." Sarah giggled. "One of these days you'll say that to the wrong person."

The door clicked open and Sarah came in. Once up the stairs and outside his apartment door, she paused to check her intentions once more, as clear as she could get them. Let's just see where this is going.

Duncan opened the door, grinning from ear to ear. It didn't take her long to work out what he was so happy with himself about. Duncan had on a knee-length cooking apron, with a picture of two rats having sex on it. The caption in red ink read 'ratadooie'. He wore the apron. But nothing else.

Sarah gave a nervous laugh, her eyes automatically drawn to the slightly raised area of cotton just below the rats.
Oh my God. Is this what he is expecting? Did I completely misunderstand him yesterday? Surely he doesn't mean to move so fast?

She realised that Duncan hadn't said a word. He appeared to be standing in a state of shock, hanging onto the door for dear life. She thought it was about time somebody dealt with the awkwardness and so she tried to sound as light and comical as she could.
"Well good afternoon, vicar, I see that the tent is ready for the tea party."

For a millisecond, he seemed unsure, not certain of how to reply. Then he gave her a winning smile and bowed deeply to her.
"Why, please do come in, Mistress Laker. I'll have the maid prepare the pot. Meanwhile, could I be allowed to partake in a bit of a crumpet?"

Laughing more with relief than hilarity, Sarah squeezed by him and walked over to the kitchen. She got behind the counter, feeling more comfortable with the table between them. Duncan made sure he turned quickly from the door, she got a glimpse of butt cheek before he faced her again.

What the hell is going on? If it's his intention to seduce me, then why is he acting so nervous all of a sudden?

To gloss over what was happening, Sarah concentrated on the collection of dishes on the counter top. Various sizes and designs of bowls wrapped in cling film, with platters of humidity collected on the inside of each. She inspected them closer and squealed with delight at the contents.
"Oh wow! Are these from your Aunt?"

Duncan was closer now, but he still seemed indecisive.

"Oh, is it that the prawn dish she made at Christmas? Yum-o."

She didn't dare raise her eyes from the bowls. What is he doing? What is he thinking? He just stood there, a few steps across the counter from her. All but naked. What could she say?

Duncan pulled out a stool and sat down. He placed his head in his hands and covered his face. Sarah didn't know which way to go. Did she make another joke, hoping he'd only been pulling her leg? Or should she go over to him, comfort him, maybe allowing it to progress to something more? She bit her bottom lip. The steady tick-tock of the wall clock kept time with the battle in her mind.

Duncan let out a low moan. He raised his fists and began to smack himself on the skull. Sarah wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh at him or help him. But then he started to really hit himself. The intensity of his fists banging harder with more violence. She had to stop him.

Dashing round the counter, Sarah cried out to him.
"No. Duncs! Stop it, stop it now. " She grabbed his fists and forced them down to the counter. Duncan began to sob.
"Oh for goodness sake." She squatted down beside him, resting her head upon his. "What on earth's going on?"

It took him a while to get himself together. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him cry. Maybe after too much booze, a couple of years ago on Clara's birthday? She absentmindedly stroked her hand along his warm and strong shoulders.

"Has something happened?" She secretly hoped this as a reason for his behaviour, and immediately felt terrible for it.

Duncan snivelled and wiped the back of his hand across his nose. He blinked as he glanced up at her, his grey, blue eyes full of tears.
"No. Nothing's happened."

His words didn't ring true. She'd known him long enough to tell when he was holding something back.
"Come on, Duncs, you can tell me."

Duncan finally got a grip of whatever it was and sat his body up ridged on the stool. His voice returned to the casual ease she knew so well.

"Sorry about that, Loops old girl. Just one of those bloody awful shitty moments got the better of me."

Dubiously, Sarah asked; "Are you sure?" She pointed at his apron. "What's all this about then?"

Duncan pushed himself off the stool and stood proudly in front of her.

"Why, what's up, Loopy? You never heard of 'The Naked Chef' before? If it's good enough for Jamie Oliver, it's good enough for you. Now give me a right big hug before I go and put some clothes on. "

She began to feel relaxed for the first time since he'd opened the door. She supposed this boiled down to another of his ridiculous pranks. No doubt they'd be laughing about it again and again. But as he held her tightly, she sensed that she didn't understand the whole story. He still didn't seem quite right.

He let her go and squeezed her arms.
"Now then, Loop-o, I'm going to go and get some strides on, then we can dig in to all this lovely nosh."

He edged his way backwards to the door. A cheeky grin on his face.
"No peeking mind."

Sarah laughed at his retreat. While he got dressed she broke open the clingfilm wrapping and searched out the chopsticks in the drawer.

Duncan returned dressed in grey jogging bottoms and a Blink 182 t-shirt, with the picture of a slutty nurse snapping on a rubber glove. He smiled apologetically at her and waved at his shirt.
"Better?"

Sarah grinned, glad to see him back to his old self.
"Yes, I suppose it'll have to do."

They shared their meal at the kitchen counter, one sat on either side. Their simple small talk flowing easily along with a bottle of sparkling water. Eventually, when they'd finished, Sarah told him about Elizabeth.

He listened with interest, his eyes never leaving hers. When she came to the part about the blood, he reached over and took her hand.
"It could have been an illusion, Sarah."

Sarah pulled a face.
"And just how many illusions and creations of our imaginations have we had to put up with over the past two weeks? Come on, I think we're getting well past the realm of mind over matter here now. Unless you're saying you're just as crazy as I am."

Duncan shook his head and led Sarah to sit down on the sofa together.

"Nah, nobody's as crazy as you are, Loops. Now, I don't want to hear you say no so you're staying here the night okay?"

"In Luke's bed right?" Sarah's question crept free from her mouth before she realised.

Duncan avoided her gaze and turned on the tv.
"Of course. Where else?"