Sarah woke early, it was usual. She guessed it was something in her DNA. Her grandfather also used to be up and about at the 'crack of sparrow fart' as he put it. She'd slept heavily, thankfully, and the recollection of Duncan's unblinking blue eyes as he - or what she'd thought was he - sat at the dining table, had shifted into the realms of unreality. A shiver passed through her while she lay in her bed, watching the dawn light spread through the blue cotton curtains across her window.

Glancing at the alarm clock on the walnut bedside table to her left, the hands continued to faintly glow florescently, showing twenty minutes to six am. She stretched her body. From the tips of her fingers, brushing the butterfly wallpaper behind the bed, to the ends of her toes, poking out under the light summer blanket and rubbing against the brass bedstead.

It had been her parents double bed and used to be in the now abandoned front bedroom. She'd bought herself a new mattress and other home improvements with the money from her grandfather's will. She'd helped him to transfer the bed from that bedroom after what happened in there with the guys and the ouijia board. He'd stripped the room bare after that and forbidden any of them to go back in. She just wished she'd had the foresight to keep a camera handy back then.

Inhaling deeply to clear her memories, she scrambled out of the bed and went to use the bathroom.

The door of the bedroom to the left of hers was closed. Duncan wouldn't be getting up until the last possible minute. He had no set hour to begin his work and she envied his freedom immensely. Both she and Luke would have to be present and ready for their jobs in the centre of Norwich by nine o'clock this Saturday morning.

Sarah sorted herself out and brushed her hair before setting it in the ponytail again as she looked in the little, round mirror. Out of habit she pushed it so that it faced the ceiling, she couldn't remember exactly why it was so important to do so. It was something her grandfather had taught her to do. Leaving the room, she pulled the door shut behind her and went to make some coffee, still dressed in her pink, cotton pj's.

The mirror squeaked slightly on its rusted hinges as it swung softly back down again. The reflection of the back of the door wobbled, darkening for a moment and then was still and clear once more.

Sarah slipped into her long, green rubber boots and collected her steaming mug of coffee. The back door was still open, but Luke was nowhere to be seen. The red blanket was left sprawled across the patio, dragged across the makeshift ashtray, leaving streaks of grey cigarette ash over its dark material. He must have made it up to the bedroom after all.

Beautiful rose coloured patterns crossed the sky, mixing with the fluffy lines of high altitude clouds. The birds were in full swing, calling to each other in chirps and whistles ranging from sharp to deep. A pair of feral cats screeched at each other in some far off corner in the woods.

Stepping carefully through the calf-high grasses, Sarah made her way down to the stables of the second field. The cotton of her pj's saved her legs from rubbing under the movement of her loose-topped Wellingtons. She wouldn't dare come through the overgrowth without them, grass adders and vipers were abundant on the neglected land, spiders too. The grazing had been left to waste since the sheep had gone.

Luke came over now and then, or his father David, to give her a hand with cutting it back and making a few repairs on the fencing. David Tyler had generously bought the small amount of livestock she'd been left with, when her grandfather died five years ago. Adding the collection of Suffolk sheep and Rhodes Island chickens to his own, substantial farm.

She picked her way between two clumps of gooseberry bushes which had somehow seeded themselves in the middle of the old tractor trail, being careful not to snag her thin clothing. She didn't have much money to spare on things like that. The bills kept her bank account light.

Reaching the stable block, she took a big swig of her coffee and looked out over the last two fields, trying to catch a glimpse of the stream which ran along the bottom of her land. Now and again, if she was lucky, she would spot a deer or fox, going about their own wild business in and out of the treeline.

This was the closest she got to contentment. Breathing in the morning and reliving the times she'd spent here with Clara and her grandfather. Skipping along with her hand in his, picking up wildflowers and watching him take care of the animals. Her heart was full of the ghosts of love, a warm yet acute patch in her chest.

The birds stopped singing. A slight breeze of chilly air sprang up from around the side of the wooden stables. A scuffing noise came from inside. Maybe rats, she thought. She went closer to take a peak over the top of the rotting half-door, holding tightly to her mug.

Slivers of daylight stabbed through the dark interior of the small stable. Permeating the chips in the woodwork. The damp, grassy odour assaulted her senses. Sarah's energy drained away, leaving her tired, lethargic and weak. She sensed a heaviness brooding from around the structure, edging its way towards her, creeping nearer. A shadow shot out from under the old hay on the floor as she watched, zipping from right to left, too fast for her to focus. She held onto the top of the door with her free hand, where was that damn camera when she needed it? Would she ever get evidence of what her father had really seen? She was still convinced that the weird and unusual events he'd sworn had happened to him were the cause of his loss of control. When she had that proof she'd be able to take it and show it to him, force him to see the reality, make him come back to her. She wasn't afraid of his outbursts, never had been, but she'd be damned if she ever left him to rot away in that hospital forever.

Sarah stepped back slightly to gain a full perspective of the interior and froze in fear.

Someone was standing behind her.

She swallowed hard and listened closely. Feeling the pressure of the presence becoming stronger and encroaching on her personal space, sending goosebumps up her arms.

A twig snapping broke the spell. The pressure disappeared and Sarah jerked round with a start to find Luke ambling towards her, his hand grasping his own large mug of something.

The big man spoke in a reassuring tone. "Whoops! Steady on there Nelly. It's just me. Something going on here I should know about?"

Sarah let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding and relaxed her vice-like grip on her coffee mug.

"No, no. Never really got there. Do you have the camera with you by any chance?"

Luke glanced around himself comically, he was just wearing an old white t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, tucked into his black socks with his trainers from work.
"Does it look like it?"

Sarah grinned, easing off her anxiety and running her eyes over his full torso, amply displayed by his tight top. Her gaze moved down his body to rest on the long black socks with his light blue cotton pj legs wrapped inside.

"Umm. Very attractive Luke."

Strolling over, he put his arm around her shoulder and she was sure he was taking the chance to reciprocate the attention by gazing at her form. She wondered if he liked what he saw, she'd always been self conscious of her weight at college, but as the years went by she was now at peace with herself. It came as no surprise that she found pleasure in his gaze. Although he gave nothing away about his observations and joked instead.
"Nice wellies."

Sarah shook her head like a dog to clear her mind, her ponytail whipping Luke's neck. She had to get a grip, her cheeks were beginning to heat up under his scrutiny.

"That tickles." He rubbed at the spot. "Did Duncan try anything on with you last night, by the way?"

He tried to sound unconcerned but his tone failed him miserably. Sarah knew him too well. He understood the attraction she had for Duncan, she was sure of it, and like an older brother, Luke tried his best to keep her on the straight and narrow. Duncan's reputation did nothing to make his friend less wary for her. It was kind of nice to be looked after that way though. She began walking back to the house, leading him through the pathway they had trampled on the way down.

"No he didn't, he was the perfect gentleman."

"That'll make a change."

"I did, however, have a bit of a strange experience with him in a way."

Sarah went on to explain the events at the dining room table. By the time she finished they had arrived back in the garden. She picked up the blanket and shook off the ash.

"Wow!" Luke sat down in his chair from the night before and stared intently at the dining room window. "That's pretty cool stuff. Let me guess - you didn't have the camera ready then either right?"

Sarah shook her head and finished her coffee, throwing the last part out across the gravel patch.

"Ah, what a bummer, Loops."

He was looking at her expression, she wondered if he could tell just how tired and down she felt.

"Never mind. Think about tonight, ey?We can stay out till the morning. No work. Just you, me, and dirty Duncan, dancing till the cows come home. Come over here."

Sarah shuffled to him in her wellies, scuffing them across the patio. She climbed up onto the chair, straddling Luke's legs and they hugged for a brief moment.

It felt comfortable. But then not so comfortable. She understood the point when they were no longer innocent to each others bodies and she quickly got up and broke them apart. This was a perfect friendship and far too good to ruin that way.

"Better start getting ready." Sarah went inside and prepared for work.

She left Luke outside, drinking his warm milk and glancing around the farmland. She'd have to talk to him about renting some of the grazing out. She needed someone to help with all this or she could see herself putting it on the market. She'd probably move to Norwich and then she'd get to see him even less. She still needed time so that she could get things right.

Duncan eventually appeared in the kitchen, just as Sarah and Luke were putting on their shoes to leave. Sarah looked up from her laces and regarded his scruffy hair, standing up on one side of his head, and his half closed eyes still fighting the power of sleep. She giggled a welcome to him.
"Morning, lazy bones."

Duncan slid his bare feet across the kitchen tiles, as if he didn't trust his safety by lifting them properly. He didn't smile in return.
"Hmm... Morning, weirdo."

Luke jumped up and grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter.

"Right then. I'll be off now. See you later Duncs. Try and have some kind of dinner ready this time, ey? I don't want to go boozing on an empty stomach like last Saturday."

Duncan stood with his naked back to Luke, making himself a strong coffee, he raised a hand and flipped Luke the bird.

Ignoring him, Luke finished his goodbyes. "And you, my lady, I will see you at lunch break. "

"McDonald's today right?"

"Yep." Luke bent down to pinch Sarah's cheek. "Toodle - oo everybody." Then he headed out the door.

Sarah stood up to go as well. She watched Duncan scuffle around the kitchen with his back still to her. He had a very sexy back. The form of his muscles were understated but strong, she knew the wiry strength he possessed without feeling the need to pump up at the gym everyday. On the back of his left thigh there was a tattoo of a black cat - Japanese style. It was small and tasteful. She recalled the day when Clara had got the same tattoo done on her shoulder. She'd said it was real love. Clara and Duncan. An added bonus to being close to him was that it gave her the chance to keep contact with Clara, they had both loved her so much.

Duncan turned round and sat himself up on the counter, as if he'd felt her eyes upon him. He stirred his cup of thick coffee, seemingly contemplating what to say.

Sarah spoke first, not wanting to give the wrong impression. His naked torso brought back the memory of how his body had moved under her touch.

"I think it's best if we don't mention it to Luke just yet."

"Why not? It's been years, Sarah. He can't get mad about something that happened so long ago."

"I don't see why he needs to know at all? Water under the bridge and all that?"

"I have to tell him. He's my best mate. I know the way he feels about you and I don't think it's fair for him not to know the whole story. Could you live with it if he found out from someone else?"

Sarah jingled her keys in her trouser pocket, nervous to finish this awkward conversation. They hardly ever brought it up, but the events of last night had made her realise how much she cared for him.

"I know. But it's not what we did. It's where we did it that's the problem."

Duncan slipped from the counter and came to Sarah, holding her elbow softly.

"Yeah. Hardly romantic I suppose. Guess he shouldn't be too jealous of a quick fuck in the back of an old Renault."

Sarah smiled, looking down at Duncan's bare feet, he had extremely long toes. She tried to latch on to his reasoning, attempting to make herself feel better.

"I suppose it was just our way of dealing with the grief that day."

Duncan held her at arms length and brought her eyes up to his.

"Yes. That's it. After being surrounded by all that death and sorrow, it's natural for people to want to create new life."

Sarah grinned. "Not the way we did it."

Smiling back Duncan moved further away. "There you go, see? It's something we can laugh about now. Bet Luke will see it the same, eventually."

"Eventually, but please, not just yet, Duncan?"

If she had any chance of moving her relationship with Luke onto the next level, then she needed more time to pave the way for the coming shock to the big man, who she adored. Having sex with Duncan on the drive home from Clara's funeral was not the proudest moment of her life.

"Make sure you lock up well before you leave, Duncs."

"Okay, see you at my place."

Once Sarah had gone, Duncan finished up in the kitchen and went up to the bathroom to shave.

He pulled open the door and walked over to the mirror on the windowsill over the sink. As he splashed warm water on his face and reached down to his washbag which he kept there, a flicker of light reflected across the mirror. It caught his eye and brought him to stare harder into the mirror.

The air around him cooled and stilled. Unnatural. While he fixed his gaze on his reflection in the mirror, the whole thing began to turn downwards. Slowly moving until it stopped to reflect the image of the dragon tattoo on his arm. There was a perfume in the room - something flowery. He watched spellbound in the mirror, the dark blue ink of the dragon was starting to move.