Felice heads off to bed when we get back to the house and Spike goes to curl up on the couch in the tv room. That leaves Tully and I sitting across from each other at the granite-topped island in the kitchen. After what happened, I can't sleep and I'm sure he can't either. I fill the kettle to make a coffee. The morning sun hurts my eyes.

"You knew where I was," he says. "You came looking for me."

"Yes, I saw you. In a dream. Don't you think that's weird?"

"I wish I could remember more." He pushes his hand through his hair and removes the stem of a leaf. He half-laughs and shakes his head, and I can't help noticing the dark circles under his eyes, as he puts the leaf on the countertop and stares at it. "It's hard to believe it wasn't all a dream, but I guess that's the proof we were really up there."

I flush, cringing inwardly at the things I said when I thought I'd lost him, relieved he's no memory of them.

But Tully is so deep in thought he doesn't notice. "The only thing I remember is this incredibly powerful sensation right at the end. Like I had to choose something, but it was super-important to get it right because otherwise everything would be screwed. It sounds crazy, right?"

He exhales and his shoulders slump. "Have you ever had one of those really vivid dreams that you're sure you'll remember, but when you wake up, it's gone completely, and no matter how hard you try, you can't find your way back into the dream?"

I nod, knowing exactly what he means.

"Well, I guess it was like that. I still feel the memory of it there, tugging at the edge of my mind."

"Aonghus was there," I say. "In the tunnel."

"Tunnel?"

"The chamber? Underground?" Surely he must remember that. "In the passage grave?"

"Kit!" Tully's voice is soft. "We couldn't have been in there. It's locked."

But the second entrance. I choke the words back before I say them.

Nobody believes in the second entrance. How could they when no trace of it was left?

I look away, embarrassed.

"I should go," he says when I don't reply.

"Yeah." I want him to stay but I don't know how to tell him that.

"Work," he says. "I need to get cleaned up."

"Does Mac mind you working days?" I ask. "You must be missing rehearsals?"

"What?" Tully stares blankly at the skeletal fragment of leaf on the work surface. "Oh, Mac. No. He doesn't need me. Baz is back."

"Baz is back?" This is a piece of news that Spike somehow missed.

"Yeah, he's broken up with Jenna and moved in with the lads. So they don't need me any more."

"That's a bummer."

"Oh look, it was a dream. It was never going to happen. This is reality." He eyes the stack of videos from More Video For U which he's bringing back to the shop. "I'm lucky to have a job. It helps Mam pay the rent and it puts petrol in the car."

"But surely Black Death are making money?"

"No, they're all broke." Tully lets a small grin break through. "It was a bit of an eye opener."

"Broke? But they've gigs every weekend and 'Plagued by You' is top of the Irish charts."

"You don't need to sell that many records to top the Irish charts. And don't forget there's seven of them, plus manager and all the equipment and the van. When everything is paid for, and what's left over is divided up, it's not that much. Still they're in a great position to break through to the next level. And that's where the money is."

But I'm not that interested in the band's finances.

"I can't believe Baz and Jenna have broken up," I say.

"Why not? Sure their relationship was splitting up the band."

"Mac could have been more understanding," I say. "They really cared about each other."

"If Baz cared that much about Jenna, he would have left the band and never looked back. That's what I'd do."

His vehemence surprises me.

"But Baz cares about Mac too and he's invested in the band."

"Yeah, maybe, sometimes it's hard to make the right decision." Tully stands up. "I'd better go. Thanks for coming to find me."

I see him out and watch as the battered car drives down the avenue into a bright new day.

After he's gone, I sit in the kitchen cradling the cold mug of coffee in my hands and staring out the window at the ancient burial tomb in the distance.

What really happened up there?

Was it real or was it a dream?

If only Tully could remember something to help me.

But he does remember something.

He thinks he had to choose.

I sit up straight and stare at the tumulus in the distance.

Suppose it wasn't a dream. Suppose Aonghus gave Tully the same choice he gave me?

Love or music?

Which would he pick?

The morning is long and I envy Tully a job that takes his mind off things. My thoughts keep circling round in my head, confusing and exhausting, but there's no way I'm going to sleep. How can Tully possibly be alright after that ordeal?

He won't remember any of this. 

Every time I close my eyes, I feel the chill of the tunnel, see the bluish cast on Tully's lips and hear Aonghus' creaking whisper hiss a warning in my ear.

You are the traveller who went down the unknown road, the one who followed the lights that twinkle on the bog, the one who disappeared. If you are lucky, you could be the one who returns, but when you tell of the wonder you've seen in the land beyond the veil, nobody will ever believe you.

Felice eventually comes downstairs at lunchtime. Spike hears her and emerges sleepily from his lair.

"Has Tully gone?" she asks. "Are you two a thing?"

"No." It comes out too strongly and they both pause.

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Spike says. "He's growing on you, I can tell."

"Exactly, and Kit knew where to find him," Felice's eyebrows crease into a frown. "On her own too."

"Yeah, and they were both looking very comfortable when we turned up. Hope we didn't interrupt anything?" Spike's goblin-like face is a picture of mock concern.

"No." I grit my teeth. They can't just pretend everything is back to normal, because it isn't. "You didn't."

"Tully is a bit slow off the mark," Felice murmurs. "Wonder if I should have a word in his ear?"

"What about Mac?" Spike asks. "Has the golden boy fallen off the radar?"

"Mac's only interested in himself," I reply.

"Yeah? But you knew that," Spike says.

"Didn't you?" Felice sounds interested for the first time.

"Oh, fatal error," Spike says then. "You did know that, but you still thought he'd be interested in you."

"The exception that proves the rule?" Felice shakes her head. "You must have known that was never going to happen. Somebody like Mac, all you get is what they want to give. And usually it's more hassle than it's worth."

I watch her wondering how she knows this.

"He's a narcissist, like my dad." She answers the question before I have a chance to ask it. That's the thing about the three of us. We can read each other too well. Even now.

"Dad always wants to look like he's loads of money," Felice says, "but it comes and goes. Sometimes I can ask for anything and get it straight away. Other times, he gives me nothing. It's all about his image, impressing everyone with how great he is, and ultimately suiting himself. Mac is the same."

I nearly laugh because, even though she might word it differently, that is almost exactly my mother's opinion of Axel Carr.

Felice is hard on her dad because she blames him for the divorce, which, admittedly, was his fault. But, the way I see it, nobody's family life is perfect and she can twist Axel around her little finger. 

The house in Rathmines is the latest proof of that.

But I don't have the energy for that argument again.

"Guess what Tully just told me?"

They wait, both of them, in anticipation. Neither of them can read the answer to this one.

"Baz is back."

Author's Note

What do you think? If Tully had to choose between music and love, which would he choose?

(a) He should choose music. It could be his chance to be a rock star.

(b) He should choose love. He's crazy about Kit.

(c) Why can't he have both?

Thanks so much for making it this far. If you're enjoying the story, you might like to read the rest of the series (Link in Bio) 💜