The Aonghus I dreamed of in the past was a benevolent figure, a misunderstood misfit, who helped young lovers. The Aonghus who haunts the present is disillusioned and embittered, ancient and powerful, dangerous.

In my nightmares I'm trapped in the passage grave, crawling through an endless tunnel, with no way out. I wake up disoriented, my heart pounding in my chest.

Outside my window, the sun is high in the sky. It's late, nearly lunch time.

I make my way downstairs to get a glass of water. Voices are coming from the kitchen.

Could that be my mother?

Laughing?

Cautiously, I edge the door open.

"There she is." My mother's voice is warm, almost youthful.

I peep into the kitchen.

The sun streams through the window, bathing him in a golden light.

Oh my god.

I gasp and leap backwards.

Tully is in the kitchen.

Talking to my mother.

And I'm in my nightdress and haven't even brushed my hair.

I fly back upstairs and dress quickly, trying to catch my breath.

Tully is supposed to be working today.

Even if he wasn't, what is he doing here?

By the time I make my way back down to the kitchen, I'm more curious than anything else. Our last conversation was only yesterday morning, but it seems like another era. Aonghus might be haunting my dreams, but in my waking moments the events at the passage grave seem too surreal to be possible.

 Felice's explanation that it was all some kind of weird dream brought on by the full moon, and the otherworldly atmosphere of the site, is the only one that makes any sense.

A pot of tea is in the middle of the kitchen table. Tully is eating one of my mother's stale scones.

"This is delicious, Mrs Lawless," he says and my mother beams.

She likes him. My mother likes Tully.

The revelation shocks me to the core.

Mum doesn't like anyone.

Not even me.

"Well," she says to me. "Don't just stand there. Aren't you going to come in?"

In a daze, I sit down at the table and start picking at a blister in the chequered oilcloth.

My mother pushes the plate of scones towards me.

Mutely, I shake my head.

A flicker of disappointment crosses her face and I catch Tully's eye. His nod is almost imperceptible. Rolling my eyes, I decide to play along and reach for a scone, which I slather with butter and raspberry jam. When I bite into it, it's not as dry as I expected. "These are good, Mum."

She smiles with gratification.

"If it's alright with you, Mrs Lawless, I was hoping to drive Kit down to Galway today," Tully is saying. Could this morning get more surreal? "Some friends of ours are performing there tonight. Of course, I'll bring Kit straight back here afterwards, but it might be quite late."

"Galway?" My mother's voice is a little faint. To her, Galway is a a stop-off point on a holiday in the west of Ireland. We've had lunch there once or twice en route to Connemara, but the possibility of driving there and back in one day is something she would never contemplate.

"Gosh, I'm sure it will be very late by the time you get back from there. Kit, get your father and we'll ask him what he thinks!"

In a daze, I rise from the table.

There's no way Tully has actually talked my mother into this, has he?

How can he have done that? Nobody talks my mother into anything.

Ever.

But one thing I do know, gobsmacked and all though I am, asking Dad is a formality.

"Dad!" I find him in his study, reading the paper. "Mum wants you for a minute. A friend is taking me to Galway for the day and Mum wants to make sure it's ok with you."

"You want to go, do you?" Dad folds up his paper.

"Yes."

"Well, I don't see why not if Mum agrees!" When he ruffles my head as though I was still ten, I manage not to grimace.

"So this is your friend?" He turns to me with a twinkle in his eye when we enter the kitchen.

"Hello, sir! Pleased to meet you." Tully stands up immediately to shake hands. "I'm Tully Cabe, a new arrival in Drimshanra."

It seems weird now to think of Tully as the new guy. I've become used to him being around.

"Well, I'm glad to see you've settled in and made some friends." Dad puts an emphasis on the word friends that makes me cringe, but he's smiling as he says it.

"They want to go down to Galway to see a show," my mother says. "But they're going to be back very late."

"A show?" Dad raises an eyebrow.

"Some friends of ours are performing," Tully explains again.

"Well, I suppose we can leave the key out? What do you think, dear?" He looks at my mother for guidance. "Or I could wait up?"

"That won't be necessary, Dad," I say quickly. "Why don't you just leave the key out and I'll be really quiet so as not to wake you?"

My parents exchange glances. Their unspoken conversation seems to last forever, but, in the end, Dad nods at Tully. "Very well, young man, we're trusting you to bring our daughter home safely. Don't let us down."

"No sir, I won't. Thank you very much."

"Kit, I suppose you'd better go and get ready," my mother says. "Tully, have another scone!"

I walk upstairs shaking my head. What kind of spell has Tully cast over my parents. There is absolutely no way they would ever have agreed to let me go with Felice or Spike. 

I shove some clothes and make-up in a bag, no point pushing my luck and getting too dressed up now. Instead, I sweep my hair into a pony tail and put on a jacket my mother bought me that I'd never normally wear.

When I go back downstairs, Tully is in animated conversation with my mother. I watch them for a moment, Tully in his boring t-shirt and boring jeans, nodding enthusiastically as my mother explains how difficult it's been to keep her roses properly watered with the heat we've had this summer.

Felice and Spike would have rolled their eyes and gotten out of there ages ago, but Tully has taken the time to be polite, listen to her and win her confidence. She thinks he's a nice boy and that's why she's letting him take me to Galway.

She's right too. He is a nice boy. That's what put me off him at first, but it doesn't any more. A warm glow of anticipation spreads over me as I realise it will just be Tully and I in the car.

"Your parents seem nice," he says, when they finally stop giving advice and warnings and let us get out the door.

"You made a good impression on them."

"Do you think so?" His face lights up.

As we leave Drimshanra behind, a weight lifts off my shoulders. Tully is happy too, delighted he's managed to switch shifts and get the day off to go to the gig.

"I'd have hated to miss it," he says. "You know Mac put me on the guest list?"

It's the least he could do, in my view, but Tully genuinely appreciates the gesture. He doesn't seem at all bitter about being cast aside now Baz is back.

It's like he knows what I'm thinking.

"Kit, I was never part of the band. I was privileged to get the chance to practise with them. It's the luckiest thing that ever happened to me, apart from..." He goes quiet and a deep flush spreads up from his neck. He bites his lip. "Apart from meeting you guys, I mean."

I try to hide my disappointment with a smile. I'd hoped he was going to say something else. A silence builds between us as we drive across the country, side by side but not touching. 

Neither of us know what to say, so we don't say anything. It's one of those moments where if you say the wrong thing, you'll break the moment and neither of us want to break the moment.

A song comes on the radio.

The Crying Game.

I know all about that, but right now, all that matters is I'm in a car with Tully.

This moment is ours.

The sun is shining. Galway and the West beckon, promising new horizons, new beginnings or, at the very least, an interlude, an escape from the everyday reality.

A wave of exhilaration sweeps through me and Tully laughs as I turn up the music and wind down the window.

The grim despair of Drimshanra is behind us, along with Aonghus' shadowy, purple presence.

Author's Note

The KIT & TULLY Series is now available on most online retailers. If you like reading on your phone, I might have some Apple Books and Google Play Books Codes to give away... Check the link in my bio for the latest offers 💜