Never Forever

By Teresa van der Kraan

As it becomes more apparent that Conner represents only the tip of the iceberg, Dana comes under increasing pressue to solve the mysetery of Conner's past. Drawing upon the assistance from her partner, Tobias, Conner's psychiatrist, Dr Coemen, and her motley collection of neighbours and friends, Dana realises that she may be the key to preventing a murderous spree of supernatural origins.
Combining elements of drama, crime and the supernatural, Never Forever is the first novel in the 'Dana Smiths' trilogy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teresa van der Kraan
• Release date: May 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9780463623336

Teresa van der Kraan

Teresa van der Kraan was born in Australia to European parents, and has been interested in writing fiction since a very young age. She has been involved since age 14 in local writing initiatives and centres in her home town of Armidale, NSW. As of 2014, Teresa undertook university study at the University of New England (UNE), graduating in 2018 with a Bachelors Degree majoring in International History. She completed her Honours degree in 2019, on the subject of veterans in Weimar Germany, and as of 2020 has begun writing her PhD thesis on German and Austrian fascism. In her free time, Teresa is a horror movie addict, and loves to spend time with friends and her cats.

Book preview

Chapter Eight: The Dinner of the Damned

Chapter Nine: Conner's Confessions

Chapter Ten: Nicole's Turn

Chapter Eleven: Sophie's Nightmare

Chapter Twelve: The Midnight Meeting

Chapter Thirteen: Accused

Chapter Fourteen: Cars & Suspicions

Chapter Fifteen: The Other Opinions

Chapter Sixteen: Hopeless Expectations

Chapter Seventeen: A Day in the Life of Sathe Tyler

Chapter Eighteen: Horror Hospital

Chapter Nineteen: Nathalie's Victims

Chapter Twenty: The Tyler Stoop

Chapter Twenty-One: Dana's Dream

Chapter Twenty-Two: Breakfast & the Beast

Chapter Twenty-Three: Jerry's Secret Shame

Chapter Twenty-Four: Blue's Café

Chapter Twenty-Five: Life Support

Chapter Twenty-Six: Mistrust Distrust

Chapter Twenty-Seven: A Plate Full of Revenge

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Black-Eyed

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Surreptitious

Chapter Thirty: Sathe's Debate

Chapter Thirty-One: A Torrid Affair

Chapter Thirty-Two: Dinner with Mort

Chapter Thirty-Three: Broken Heart

Chapter Thirty-Four: Feigned for Friends

Chapter Thirty-Five: Investigation

Chapter Thirty-Six: The Lost Story

Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Change of Direction

Chapter Thirty-Eight: A Delayed Gift

Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Faded Picture

Chapter Forty: Grave

Chapter Forty-One: Repercussions

Chapter Forty-Two: Undertaking

Chapter Forty-Three: Dr Coemen's Concerns

Chapter Forty-Four: Shades of Grey

Chapter Forty-Five: Pointless Preparations

Chapter Forty-Six: Wealth, Love & Lust

Chapter Forty-Seven: Nathalie vs Owens

Chapter Forty-Eight: Homicidal Tendencies

Chapter Forty-Nine: Visiting Dana

Chapter Fifty: Fatality

Chapter Fifty-One: Finally Friends

Chapter Fifty-Two: Search Party

Chapter Fifty-Three: Family Values

Chapter Fifty-Four: Thoughts of Another

Chapter Fifty-Five: Killing Time

Chapter Fifty-Six: Congregation

Chapter Fifty-Seven: Truth

Chapter Fifty-Eight: Retreat & Rescue

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Close to Crazy

Chapter Sixty: Dawn

Other Titles by Teresa van der Kraan

Prologue

Seeds of Love & Hate

Conner Ellis was sitting upright in bed, his head throbbing, his mind reeling. Yet again he had revisited the memory that would torment him forever.

The late afternoon sunlight felt pleasantly warm against Conner’s face as he strode down the sidewalk towards his home, his hands in the pockets of his school blazer, a gentle breeze teasing his hair and playing across his face. Conner’s best friend, Scott Preston, walked beside him, blasé, gazing at the suburban surroundings. For several minutes the two teenage boys had been walking westward together, on their way from the bus stop.

Hey, you sure your mum doesn’t mind me dropping ‘round, man? Scott asked.

Uh, no, Conner replied with a dry laugh, I told her you might be coming. She’s real pleased. She’s always telling me to make some friends. Grinning, he put on a disapproving high-pitched voice: "'You know it really wouldn’t hurt you to start socializing outside of school time'." He pursed his lips and adopted a very stern manner, wagging his finger in mid-air.

Scott laughed. So… he said presently, feigning a nonchalant tone, me and Barbara saw you at the movies last night with some chick. We waved and stuff, but I guess you didn’t see us. He looked again at his friend, smiling slyly. So who’s the chick, Conner? Anyone I should know?

Oh, said Conner, reluctant to confide in Scott. …Well… d’you remember that lady from the video store I said I had a crush on?

That one with the ponytail? Scott asked eagerly.

Er– yeah, mumbled Conner. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. Last week we kinda started talking and she agreed to go out with me.

Way to go, man! Scott said excitedly, giving Conner a sporting jab in the shoulder. I mean, she must be like thirty or something. Way mature.

She’s twenty-five, said Conner with slight irritation, rubbing his aching shoulder.

Yeah? said Scott, impressed. So, you think it’s gonna work out?

I hope so, Conner said simply. I mean… I think I really like her.

Uh-huh, said Scott, distracted, so… he lowered his voice, grinning widely, you gotten with her yet, Con?

I’ve only been out with her once! Conner said in dismay, affronted yet hardly surprised by the predictable direction of Scott’s interrogation.

Scott shrugged. Yeah, but these older women, they know their stuff, you know. She’ll probably expect it soon, man.

Do you really think so? asked Conner, getting worried.

…I dunno, replied Scott. But don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be fine– I mean, you’ve done it before, right?

Conner awkwardly massaged his shoulder with one hand, a flush creeping up his neck. Uh… yeah, I mean, well, sure… At least as far as anyone knows… he added sheepishly.

Oh no, don’t tell me! Scott exclaimed, as they reached the end of the block and turned the corner onto Birch Street.

Conner, Scott went on with sudden seriousness, quickening his pace to match Conner’s abrupt bout of speed walking, we are about to graduate next month. You cannot go to uni as a virgin.

I dunno if I’m even going to uni, Conner muttered, his usually pale face now a distinct shade of pink.

That’s irrelevant, man, and you know it, Scott replied. He paused for a moment, before finally taking mercy on his friend’s embarrassment.

Hey, I’m sorry, man. Scott clapped Conner on the shoulder. I didn’t mean anything by it. I mean, it’s all good. So… what’s your mum like?

Uh– I think you might’ve met her before, Conner replied, unable to disguise his relief. She always comes to all the parent teacher meetings and stuff.

Dude, I try to avoid those as much as I can, and so do my folks. I don’t think they really give a stuff.

Well, I’ll warn you now, said Conner seriously, his walking returning to a more comfortable pace, my mum’s a little weird.

Scott smirked, That explains you then.

Ha, ha, Conner said sarcastically. He scoffed, and then said in as indifferent a tone as he could manage: Mum reckons she’s psychic.

No kidding? snorted Scott, his eyebrows rising in amused surprise.

Yeah, sighed Conner. "She thinks she can contact dead people and stuff. Ooooo, scary."

Scott grinned, Sounds like my type of mum!

Dusk was beginning to settle as the two boys crossed the street and continued down the opposite sidewalk, passing one neatly-kept home after another.

So, how come your dad’s never around, huh? Scott asked conversationally. Did psychic mummy scare him away?

Conner snorted, What dad? All I know is he was called Tim Rorri Shoreman and he died in a plane crash just after I was born. Mum doesn’t like talking about it much. She gets all upset every time I ask. Hasn’t even tried to contact his ghost or anything. He allowed himself a smile. I guess she thinks he’s best left in peace. Mum likes to pretend I was an immaculate conception.

Scott laughed.

Hey Mum! Conner then called out, raising his arm and waving at a figure standing by the edge of the road.

The Ellis house was among the most spotless in the entire neighbourhood, with a manicured lawn and, along the side of the house, a flowerbed so neatly kept it looked as though it could belong to a doll house.

There you are! Conner’s mother exclaimed, as the two boys approached. About time, Conner! It’s getting dark and I was beginning to get worried.

Scott, seeming to find this highly amusing, began to snigger, clamping a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. Conner elbowed him in the ribs to silence him.

A plump woman of thirty-eight, Conner’s mother wore a lime-green dress beneath a stained kitchen apron, upon the front of which she now wiped her fingers, before shaking Scott’s hand with a firm grip.

Ah. You must be Scott, she said briskly. Yes, Conner’s told me all about you. High school quarterback and everything.

Good to meet you, Ms Ellis, said Scott, still repressing laughter.

No, you must call me Doris, Conner’s mother insisted. I’m not having any of that ‘Ms Ellis’ business. She beamed, Anyway it’s just wonderful that Conner is finally having a friend over for dinner.

Rounding on her son, she added somewhat sternly: But you should’ve gotten here sooner, dear– you’ve just missed Dennis. He brought us some lovely orchids.

Who’s Dennis? wondered Scott. But Doris was already speaking again.

I was always trying to encourage Conner to make some friends, you know. He’s just a bit shy is all.

Scott could not help chuckling. Fortunately, Doris seemed not to notice.

Now, won’t you boys come inside? she said jovially, beckoning them to follow her as she began to walk toward the house. I’ve baked Anzac biscuits. Oh, and Scott– I’ll give you a palm reading if you like.

Conner and Scott followed, Scott still chuckling gleefully.

So, when’s she gonna get out your baby photos? he asked the wincing Conner in an undertone.

Oh, Scott, would you like to see some of Conner’s old photographs? Doris called behind her, seeming to have read Scott’s mind. I’ve taken some wonderful shots.

Yes please, Doris! said Scott, delighting in Conner’s embarrassment.

Mu-um, whined Conner.

What is it, dear? Doris asked pleasantly, turning to face him.

Uh– you forgot to check the mail, Conner said hastily, shooting a glance towards the mailbox.

Oh! So I did! cried Doris, sounding positively shocked with herself for having neglected such a thing. Descending the steps of the white front porch, Doris hurried towards the curb, muttering something about expecting an important letter from the bank.

Now, time to dispose of those photo albums… Conner whispered to Scott.

Oh, no you don’t! Scott called, giving chase as Conner ran for the house. At least not until I’ve seen them!

Conner and Scott tussled with one another on the porch, laughing; both of them fighting, with Conner’s dignity at stake, to be the first inside the house. Knocking Scott’s hand aside, Conner caught the doorknob, and, just when he thought he would emerge the victor, something happened that destroyed not only his game with Scott, but his entire life, as he had always known it.

The air was filled with an awful shrieking, overpowered only by the sounds of screeching tires. Conner and Scott both whipped around, uncomprehending, unable to react to what they beheld.

As though in slow-motion, Conner could do nothing but watch as a white Cadillac, grinding against the curb, collided head-on with his mother, who had just retrieved three letters from the mailbox.

Tires squealed; there was a tremendous crack as the mailbox splintered beneath the car’s bumper; Conner could hear his own voice screaming; he glimpsed a splattering of blood across the bonnet of the Cadillac as it went spinning out of control across the road, before lurching to a halt in front of the house opposite.

Becoming fully aware of his own voice, Conner heard himself crying, Mum! Mum!

Somehow, he managed to throw himself forward, vaulting over the porch railing, Scott at his heels. Knowing only that he had to save his mother, Conner tore across the lawn and threw himself down beside her, breathing hard, panicking.

Hey… dude, Scott’s stunned voice sounded horribly distant, as though he were speaking from the opposing end of a football field. Is she… is she… uh…

Oh... God, gasped Conner, gently easing his hands underneath Doris’ neck to support her head. He had never seen so much blood in his life: it was covering his clothes, it was hot against the palms of his trembling hands, it was even on his face, although he could not remember how it had gotten there.

Oh, God, Conner choked again, blinking rapidly as tears spilt from his eyes. I- I can’t tell where all this blood is coming from! Oh my God… what do I do? What do I do?!

Open-mouthed and unable to reply, Scott merely turned his numbed attention towards the car that had hit Conner’s mother, in time to see the driver’s door swing open and a man climb unsteadily out onto the road, looking pale and stunned. Approaching at a jog, he placed a hand over his mouth, as though he were in danger of being ill.

Oh shit, he whispered, his eyes bulging as he looked downward. Is she– God– I mean, did I—

But Scott interrupted him: What the hell is wrong with you, dude?! he yelled furiously, rounding on the man.

I– I stammered the man. He seemed to be at a loss for words, so he simply exclaimed, "Oh shit!" again, mopping beads of perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand, stress etched into every line of his face.

Is that all you’ve got to say?! cried Scott, his voice rising hysterically. Look! Look at her!

I– I’ve got to do something, Conner panicked, barely listening to the arguing of the other two. Mum! Oh thank God, she’s still breathing!

Attempting in vain to lift her head, Doris spoke in a feeble whisper: C-Conner?

Don’t say anything– just– just lie still, Conner replied hurriedly; he tore off his blazer, and laid it on top of his mother’s trembling body.

C-Conner… Doris repeated, her voice weak but urgent, her bloodstained hands seeking those of her son. D-don’t worry, Conner, Doris whispered, finding Conner’s right hand and gripping it in both of hers. I’ll never leave you. I– I’ll n-never really b-be gone…

W-uh… we’ve got to call an ambulance, said Conner, in a voice so distant it sounded as though somebody else were speaking through his mouth. He looked up at Scott, his eyes glistening with tears. You g-got credit, man?

Oh– yeah, sure, replied Scott, nodding as he reached into the pocket of his own blazer for his mobile phone.

…Hey, wait a second, said the man slowly, frowning.

SHE DOESN’T HAVE A SECOND!! Conner screamed, suddenly hysterical. He knew that something was terribly wrong… the ambulance would fix things, though. It had to.

Scott began to dial with trembling fingers, shaking and sweating.

The man, in desperation to escape, turned on his heel and began to run back towards his car, but Conner —suddenly feeling his blood run cold with rage— leapt to his feet, and tore across the road in pursuit. Lunging forward, he seized the man by the collar of his jacket and slammed him down hard against the blood-splattered bonnet of the Cadillac, determined to make the cowardly bastard pay for what he had done.

Please… please, whimpered the man, who did not appear to be especially strong, and would not stand a chance should his dispute with Conner and Scott come to blows.

You can’t just leave! Conner yelled. Look! You might’ve killed her! Look!

Get off me! snarled the man. He struggled, but Conner, amazed at his own strength, held him against the car. Police sirens were growing louder now.

I was drinking, the man panicked, fear sparking in his sharp eyes. The cops are going to fry me!

In disgust, Conner released him.

Don’t let him go, Conner! yelled Scott, jogging over to them, his fists clenched and raised. Before the staggering man had time to react, Scott punched him squarely in the nose; blood gushed down his face, and he collapsed onto the ground with a strangled cry, shaking, both hands covering his nose. Scott recoiled, massaging his knuckle, teeth bared in triumphant fury. That all you got?! he yelled in an almost hysterical tone, brandishing his fists like a boxer.

Suddenly, Conner noticed the man’s free hand reaching into the pocket of his jacket; a moment later, he had a pistol aimed at Scott’s head.

Eyes widening in alarm, Scott dropped his fists. It’s cool, man, he said nervously, backing away, I don’t want any more trouble.

I didn’t mean to hit that woman, the man panted, climbing shakily to his feet, one hand still gripping his bleeding nose, the other tight around the gun.

You’re going to pay for it though, said Scott in a low voice, looking at the man with unrepressed loathing. The cops’ll get you any second.

His cold face expressionless, the man glanced at Conner, then at the wheezing Doris, and finally at Scott. Yeah…. well, he whispered as he cocked the gun, not if I can help it.

Then, in a moment of sickening horror that would torment Conner to the end of his days, the man’s eyes narrowed and he pressed the trigger, the gun recoiling in his hand as it fired a bullet that missed Scott’s right ear by a centimetre. Scott swore loudly.

Damn it, the man said furiously, turning the gun over in his hands; examining it as though checking for defects.

Conner was terrified, his head reeling, his breath coming in short, rugged gasps. He knew that he had to do something, but his brain seemed to have ceased working.

Look, just calm down, OK? Scott said to the man, reaching very slowly and deliberately forward. Put the gun down. Let’s just talk about this.

The man’s only response was to fling out his arm and fire his gun into Scott’s left thigh. With a howl of anguish, Scott collapsed onto the ground, clutching at his leg as a deep red flower of blood blossomed through the fabric of his jeans.

Scott! Conner yelped in horror. No!

Hmm, said the man lightly, considering the gun in his hand, unperturbed by Scott’s screams of agony. Hurry up and die, I don’t have all day— he embedded his third bullet into Scott’s left shoulder with a deafening bang. Yep, that ought to do it, he said briskly, turning his blood-splattered face toward Conner, and giving a wide grin, whilst Scott’s body jerked in a series of violent spasms at his feet.

Conner’s heart was racing in his throat. What could he do? Was he going to die as well? He backed away from the killer who, with his maniacal grin still in place, approached, gun raised.

A-are you g-going t-to k-kill m-me? Conner whimpered, as blood thundered in his ears and his head swam.

Hmm… the killer said thoughtfully, scratching his chin with the barrel of the pistol, as he feigned deliberation. ….Good question. He paused, sadistically savouring the moment.

The sounds of police sirens were growing unnervingly close. The killer had to make a quick decision. He looked for a moment at the terrified Conner, with eyes that were shining and eager.

P-please d-don’t k-kill me, Conner sobbed.

Aww… poor little boy, the killer panted in a cruel tone of mock pity. But I must admit, I kinda like you, kid. I’ve only got one shot left, so I’ll spare you, since you asked so nice.

Conner would never forget the killer’s face or his cold eyes. They would haunt his dreams forever, and he would never again rest easily, especially when he remembered what that evil man had done next.

The killer smiled at Conner. Then, without warning, he pointed his gun at the injured Doris and, hesitating barely an instant, fired his final shot directly into her heart.

Chapter One

Cause & Effect

Three Years Later

Hey Dana, you’d better get your coat. I have a suspicion it’s going to be a chilly night tonight, Tobias Stanton called over his shoulder.

Twenty minutes of delay, and he was still leaning against the wall beside the door of apartment 13, with nothing to occupy his attention save the handsome face of his reflection in the mirror suspended beside the hat rack, and an expensive bottle of wine that Dana —his girlfriend of more than two years— had purchased especially for the occasion, and which, with every passing minute, Tobias felt more tempted to open.

Again, Tobias called to Dana: C’mon Dana! I’m not getting any younger!

OK! I’m coming! Dana’s voice replied from somewhere within the apartment, sounding flustered.

Tobias paced back and forth, checking his reflection in the mirror each time he passed it. Giving in to vanity, he ran his hand through his short pitch-black hair, ruffling, and then straightening it again, to see which way it looked best.

Do you think I should wear a sweater underneath? Dana called out.

I don’t know!

Exasperated, Tobias turned from the mirror and buttoned his long black coat up to the chin. But whatever you decide, get a move on– for once in my life I don’t want to be late.

OK, just a minute, Dana replied. I can’t find my hairbrush!

Tobias stooped and picked up the bottle of wine, which had been standing in the corner for safekeeping, and tucked it comfortably into the crook of his arm.

Seriously Dana, you don’t wanna know how close I am to drinking this wine! he threatened. Before Dana could respond, a series of light, rapid knocks sounded upon the front door, distracting Tobias.

Upon opening the door and peering out onto the threshold, Tobias was displeased to discover that the visitor was their neighbour, who lived in the apartment directly opposite.

Oh. Hey Morty, said Tobias unenthusiastically, unable to disguise the fact that he was less than fond of him.

Oh Toby, honey, have I caught you at a bad time? Not stepping out are you? asked Mortimer, taking in Tobias’ rugged-up appearance.

Actually we were, Tobias replied shortly, not wanting to start a conversation.

Oh, such a pity…

Very thin and very fair, Mortimer Harrison was somewhere in his forties, but with the aid of whatever expensive anti-wrinkle creams he used, he appeared rather younger; his facial features were delicate and feminine, thick wavy, platinum-blonde hair cascading halfway down his back.

He owned a restaurant named Scarlet Flair, which Tobias and Dana had never visited (and which Tobias, respectfully, never intended to visit). Perhaps it was Mortimer’s fondness for playing loud music in the early hours of the morning, accompanied by his habit of calling everyone ‘honey’ that was the cause of Tobias’ indifference. Or perhaps it was the fact that Mort was always sporting a different outfit, managing every day —at least in Tobias’ opinion— to attain greater levels of atrocity.

On this particular occasion, Mort had chosen to wear a flowing pale yellow shirt and white cashmere pants, the bottoms of which brushed against the floor, partially disguising the delicate, burgundy sandals upon his feet.

So, what can I do ya for, Morty? Tobias asked, deciding that the best way to get rid of him would be simply to humour him.

Here, my dear, said Mort, I’ve made a thoughtful gesture. He nodded downward at a large pot that he was gripping in both hands; he shoved it into Tobias’ chest, beaming.

I appreciate the thought, said Tobias, awkwardly accepting it, but Dana and I really have enough pots…"

"Oh, come now, it’s a stir-fry," Mort replied, laughing.

Er… yes… so it is, muttered Tobias, lifting the lid of the pot slightly and peeping inside. "But what have we done to deserve this?"

Missing Tobias’ sarcasm, Mort replied pleasantly: "Oh surely I don’t need a reason. I am merely reaching out in the hopes that, in time, we may become better acquainted."

Hmm…

Oh, hello Mort. At long last, Dana appeared beside Tobias in the doorway, wearing a handsome long brown coat: an investment that Tobias had lovingly taken to celebrate her twenty-eighth birthday last August.

For as long as Tobias had known Dana Smiths, she had always worn her long hair tied at the back in a ponytail, and tonight was no exception. Despite being blonde, Dana’s hair was many shades darker than Mort’s platinum comparison, and was scraggily in appearance, despite her efforts to tame it.

"Well, well. If it isn’t the girl next door," said Mort happily, beaming.

You look beautiful, Tobias said sincerely.

Oh honey, you’re going to make me blush, Mort said, modestly rolling his eyes.

Ha, ha, said Tobias sarcastically. Well. I’ll just go and put this stir-fry in the kitchen, he added, excusing himself.

Hurry along! It only keeps for three days! Mort called behind him.

This was very thoughtful of you, Dana said kindly. You really shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.

Consider it an invitation, Mort replied smoothly, stroking his chin, because I’m hoping you’ll come to my next little party. Surely you’re in need of a little fun, darling, he added, his hazel eyes glinting.

Maybe I will come, said Dana.

Tobias returned presently from the kitchen, empty-handed.

As I was just explaining to the girl next door, Mort went on brightly, you really should consider attending my next little shin-dig.

Thanks, but no thanks, said Tobias. I have this bad habit where I’m usually asleep at three in the morning. Call me crazy.

Tobias recalled another of his reasons for disliking Mort, as the latter extracted a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from his pant pocket, and lit up.

To each their own, I suppose, he resolved with a sigh, exhaling smoke all over Dana and Tobias. But neighbours should never be strangers. Now, have a lovely time, you two; don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. He smirked, Ciao for now. And with that, he turned, crossed the corridor and slipped inside the door of his apartment.

That guy creeps me out, Tobias muttered as he shut the door behind Dana and locked it with a key from his pocket. "It’s no wonder we got this place so cheap, it was because of the freaky neighbours. I mean between Mort and Poison, that goth in number 12, they should be paying us to live here!"

Dana tried not to laugh as they made their way down the corridor, arm in arm.

There’s nothing wrong with Gwen in apartment 11, she said fairly.

"Nothing we know about," Tobias corrected.

Abruptly, a voice sounded from their right, startling Dana: Do mine ears detect the sound of gossip… about me?

Dana turned, smiling, and faced Gwen Palmer, an olive-skinned, dark-haired young woman, who was stepping out of her apartment, wearing jeans and a brown leather coat. Gwen, who worked as a manicurist, had become fast friends with Dana, in spite of the fact that Dana had never had a proper manicure in her life.

Got to gossip ‘bout someone, Tobias said crisply.

Well, if you want to hear something super juicy, said Gwen, falling casually into step beside Dana, my buddy in number 15, Martin, has been acting pretty neighbourly with Mort, if you know what I mean. Probably getting ready to pop the question soon, she added wryly.

"Gee, I really wanted to know that, Tobias sarcastically mumbled, as Dana chuckled: It’s really none of our business."

Gwen grinned. "Yes, but that’s the whole point of gossip, Dana. To stick one’s nose into other people’s business, whether they like it or not."

They reached the end of the hall and, walking single-file, took the stairs down to the ground floor.

So are you two off for a romantic dinner or what? asked Gwen as they exited the building together.

Actually, I’m going to meet Tobias’ mother, replied Dana, feeling a stab of nervousness. They came to a halt beside the apartment building’s elongated mailbox.

Oh… said Gwen, giving a comic grimace. You’ll have to tell me all about it later on. Anyway I’d better get off, I’m meeting some buddies down at The Club. See you Dana, Toby.

Good-bye Gwen, said Dana warmly.

Yeah, see ya, said Tobias.

As soon as Gwen was out of earshot, Dana sighed: You were right, Tobias, it’s quite cold tonight. Too cold for March.

Yeah… agreed Tobias, according to my predictions, winter this year is going to be …cold.

Extra cold. Dana allowed herself a smile, before voicing the thought that had been nagging at the back of her mind for days. …To be honest, she began.

Uh-oh.

No seriously, Dana pushed on, hoping to get her worries relieved, I’m a little bit nervous about meeting your mother, Tobias.

Tobias laughed. Is that all? You’ve watched too many soapies, Dana, Mum’ll love you.

I hope so, muttered Dana, doubtfully.

Still laughing, Tobias put his arm around her, shaking her playfully. And if she doesn’t like you, he went on, don’t lose sleep over it. There’s tons of people on my Mum’s bad list.

Dana felt worse.

Tobias’ car, an old white Cadillac, was parked along the curb. Quite a sorry sight, the car was dented in many places and the hood was constantly springing open; a problem that Tobias had rectified with an old, appropriately positioned gym sock, tying the bonnet in place.

How’s my girl? Tobias asked. Dana was about to reply that she was fine, if a little anxious, when she realized that he was talking to the car. They both slipped inside; Tobias fondly patted the cracked dashboard, muttering: Yep, Annie’s the only girl for me.

Dana rolled her eyes.

Tobias put the keys in the ignition and the car made a sound like a wounded animal, but refused to start.

Great, sighed Dana, lifting both hands in a gesture of hopelessness, now it looks like we won’t be going at all.

Oh no, don’t worry, Tobias replied airily. Annie’s always a little stubborn when it’s cold. He turned the key in the ignition again and the car backfired with the sound of a gunshot.

There. We’re in business, Tobias said happily. Dana coughed and fanned black smoke away from her face.

Tobias, you and I have really got to get a new car, she said loudly over the sound of Annie’s labouring engine.

Just crack open a window, Tobias said unconcernedly, as they began to drive. We’ll just take a shortcut past the cemetery to make up some time.

I’m not looking forward to breaking down in front of the cemetery, muttered Dana, unhappily.

Aww c’mon Dana. You’re not scared of zombies, are you? chuckled Tobias. Trust me, they’ll be no scarier than my mum if we turn up late!

Dana smiled appreciatively, even though she feared that Tobias was not greatly exaggerating. She had never met Sophie Stanton, but had heard stories that evoked the image of a very strict, no-nonsense sort of woman.

Of course my little brother and sister will be there as well, Tobias went on conversationally.

You haven’t told me a lot about your siblings, Dana replied, feeling her nerves mount anew. What are they like?

That’s a tough question, Tobias said thoughtfully. I don’t live with them, so I guess they’re still in my good books.

Dana didn’t reply. She gazed out of the window at the dark homes and buildings flashing past.

After a few moments of silence, Dana asked: What are their names? I want your mother to think I’m well informed, you see.

Tobias chuckled, Yes, very wise. Their names are Sathe and Nicole. It’s been a couple of months since I saw them, but last time I checked, Nicole was seven and Sathe was your typical teenager. He’s gonna be seventeen next week.

Dana nodded, repeating the names quietly to herself as she tried to memorize them. Sathe… she said slowly, that’s an unusual name.

Yeah, agreed Tobias. "But in the end it’s not too bad. I remember I was twelve when he was born, and at the time, Mum was actually thinking of calling him Romeo, if you can believe that. She loves Shakespeare. But luckily I convinced her to make that his second name instead. But don’t you dare tell Sathe I told you that. It’s his darkest secret."

No, I won’t tell him, Dana said with a laugh. She paused for a moment before she posed another question. So are they actually your brother and sister or… her voice trailed away.

Yes and no, Tobias replied. "They’re my half brother and sister actually. We’ve got different fathers. Sathe and Nicole’s father, Jerry, lives someplace across the city; manages a box factory. I never liked him to be honest. I was actually pleased when Mum divorced him. And, as you know, my father died when I was seven."

Tobias, I’m very sorry, said Dana sympathetically.

Don’t be, said Tobias, who, in his two odd years of living with Dana, had never once wanted to discuss his dead father. It happened, and I had to accept that. Sometimes bad things just happen and no one can change them.

Dana knew that the subject was touchy, and thought that it would be better not to pursue it, at least for the time being. Tobias would open up to her in his own time.

After a few minutes of driving in silence, Dana and Tobias arrived at the Royal Blue restaurant, and Tobias stationed the car in a quiet section of the parking lot.

As they got out and made their way towards the double doors of the Royal Blue, Tobias finally broke the silence: Anyway, now that Mum’s divorced, the kids live with her. They’ve got a real nice house up on South Hill. Mum’ll probably invite us ‘round sometime, he explained.

Oh… OK, said Dana, feeling slightly intimidated at the prospect of further interaction with Tobias’ family.

The Royal Blue restaurant turned out to be very chic. The front doors were made of rose-tinted glass, embellished with golden handles. There was even a red carpet extending outside.

This is going to send us into bankruptcy, Dana, Tobias muttered as he held the door open for her.

No sooner had Dana and Tobias entered the restaurant, than a flustered waitress hurried towards them. She was black and slender, wearing a formal navy-blue uniform, upon the breast of which the name ‘Elle’ was embroidered with golden thread.

Do you have a reservation? she asked right off.

Dana swept the room with her eyes, discovering it completely full except for one table in the far corner.

Yes, Tobias replied, taken aback by the waitress’ abruptness. Yeah. We’ve got a reservation under ‘Stanton’. Sorry we’re late.

It’s a good thing you got here when you did, Elle replied, sounding relieved. I was just about to give your table away.

Wonder what’s keeping Mum, Tobias muttered to Dana as they followed Elle across the crowded room to the small table in the corner, which was situated beside a plastic potted plant.

Here we go, Elle said when they reached the table. Would you also like to see our wine list?

Dana gasped suddenly. "Wine! We forgot the wine, Tobias!"

Tobias shrugged. Oh well. I wasn’t going to drink any anyway. I have to drive, remember.

I thought you brought it! Dana said, exasperated.

Tobias frowned, trying to remember. Oh, I know where it is, he then said ruefully. I left it in the kitchen with Morty’s stir-fry.

Oh no, sighed Dana. So much for her perfect first impression.

I don’t see why it’s such a big deal, said Tobias, "this is a licensed restaurant anyway. But, if you really want, I will go back and get it."

Oh would you? gushed Dana, graciously. It was a very expensive bottle, it’d be such a pity to let it go to waste.

Tobias sighed, OK then. I’ll be back in ten. Don’t leave the table or we’ll be getting KFC for dinner instead.

He turned to go, but Dana grabbed his arm. What do I do when your mother gets here? she asked worriedly. Maybe you should stay and I should go instead?

Well OK, if you want to drive Annie…

Dana frowned. Then she promptly released his wrist, in declaration that she would rather meet Tobias’ family alone than risk driving the old Cadillac.

Tobias smiled, OK then. I’ll be right back.

When Tobias returned to Springview Apartments, he was greeted by the usual surge of music pumping out of the flat across the corridor.

Approaching the entrance of his own apartment, Tobias was intercepted by a young woman whom he knew by sight alone; slipping out of the door of number 12. As always, Poison was dressed completely in black, dreadlocks falling to her waist, her many facial piercings glinting in the dim overhead light. She briefly met Tobias’ gaze with dark, surly eyes, surrounded by heavy black eyeliner, as she stalked past.

Shaking his head, Tobias took the key from his pocket and unlocked the front door of apartment 13. Once inside, he swung the door shut behind him and hurried into the kitchen. Sure enough, the bottle of wine was standing on the counter next to the pot of stir-fry that Mort had given them. Tobias picked up the bottle.

As he was leaving the kitchen, he was startled by the sound of a loud knock on the front door. Tobias’ initial thought was that Mort must have somehow seen him arrive and was trying to invite him to one of his parties. But, when Tobias grudgingly opened the door, he found himself face to face with a complete stranger.

The unexpected guest was a portly man in his sixties, wearing a long trench coat over a tweed waistcoat and matching pants. This peculiar man politely removed his woollen hat when he saw Tobias, revealing a completely bald head.

If you’re looking for Mort, Tobias said dully, follow the music. He pointed to the door of apartment 14.

Uh… no, said the stranger, sparing a distracted glance in the aforesaid direction. He seemed unsure of how he should proceed.

No, uh– actually, I am looking for a young woman by the name of Dana Smiths, the portly man said presently. Would you by any chance happen to know her?

Yeah… I know her, Tobias replied, frowning suspiciously, which is more than I can say about you. Can I take a message?

I’m sorry, I’ve been terribly rude, the bald man said. My name is Doctor Hugo Coemen. I am a psychiatrist at the Nis City Psychiatric—

I wasn’t aware that Dana was seeing a shrink, frowned Tobias.

No, no, I am not working with Miss Smiths, replied Dr Hugo Coemen hastily. This is really a rather awkward place to be having this conversation, I’m afraid, but—

Hang on, said Tobias, I’m a little sketchy about all this. Do you and Dana know each other or not?

No, no, said Dr Coemen, shaking his large bald head, Miss Smiths and I have never met. However, I am here on an urgent matter of the utmost importance—

Tobias interrupted him again: Well, my name’s Tobias Stanton, I’m her boyfriend. He and Dr Coemen hastily shook hands.

Listen, Doc, Tobias said, stepping out into the corridor and shutting the apartment door behind him, I’m kind of in a hurry right now. If you want to talk to Dana you can come back tomorrow or something.

I’ll give you my card, Dr Coemen said in a rush, digging into the inside pocket of his trench coat. He produced a card, and handed it to Tobias. Tobias pocketed it.

Thanks Doc. Tobias turned to leave, eager to end his conversation with this stranger.

Listen, said Dr Coemen, grabbing Tobias’ arm and looking seriously into his face. Please tell Miss Smiths that I came by because one of my patients has escaped from the Institution.

Really? asked Tobias, finally giving Dr Coemen his full attention. A nutter on the loose, eh?

Yes, I’m afraid so, Coemen replied heavily. It was due to lax security on our part. Anyway, Mr Stanton, this patient has an unhealthy obsession with Dana, and I am almost certain that he will come looking for her. In fact, I believe that the thought of Dana motivated him to escape in the first place.

Look, Doc, said Tobias, maybe you’ve got the wrong Dana. Because we don’t know any mental patients…

It comes as an enormous relief that he has not made himself known as of yet, said Dr Coemen with a sigh. I desperately hope that he will not find you. If he does, however, please contact me on the number on that card. If it is at all possible, I would like for Miss Smiths to give me a call as soon as she’s free. You see, this is a dangerous patient who has murdered in the past, and until he has been returned to the Institution, I would like to advise Miss Smiths on the most appropriate course of action when he decides to make himself known.

"You mean if," corrected Tobias.

Dr Coemen replied, I hope so. He put his hands in the pockets of his trench coat and looked down at the floor over his large waistline.

So… said Tobias, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, does this psycho have a name, Doc?

Dr Coemen looked up at him. Yes. I’m sure your girlfriend will be familiar with the name Conner. Conner Ellis.

Chapter Two

Tobias’ Family

Tobias was so preoccupied with the conversation he had had with Dr Hugo Coemen, that he took a wrong turn on the way back to the restaurant, and as a consequence arrived later than he had intended.

If Dana really had been involved with some sort of mental patient, then she certainly would have told him, wouldn’t she? It should not be the sort of thing two people keep from one another, Tobias thought angrily. The more he turned it over in his mind, the more peculiar it seemed.

But when he finally arrived at the Royal Blue and parked Annie, Tobias forced himself to forget all about that Coemen fellow, resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have an enjoyable evening with his family and Dana.

Tobias lifted the bottle of wine from the passenger seat. By the time he entered the restaurant, it was to discover three familiar people standing nearby, looking around the room for their table.

Guess being late runs in the family! Tobias said jovially, walking over to them. The three of them turned at the sound of his voice.

There you are! Tobias’ mother said loudly. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten!

Great to see you too, Mum, Tobias said with a smile. That’s Dana over there— he pointed, let’s go sit down before she gets lonely.

I missed you, Toby! little Nicole cried out, throwing her arms around her big brother’s waist.

I missed you too, Nic, said Tobias, ruffling his sister’s bushy hair as he half dragged her over to the table.

Catching sight of them as they approached, Dana got to her feet, accidentally slopping her glass of water down the front of her dress as she did so.

So you’re Dana, are you? Tobias’ mother said stiffly, looking Dana over with a critical air, as though assessing her. My name is Sophie Stanton. I am Tobias’ mother.

I’m very pleased to meet you, said Dana politely. She offered her hand to Sophie; Sophie reluctantly shook it, letting go very quickly.

Sorry, it’s just water, Dana apologised, looking alarmed.

Sophie Stanton was a strict-looking woman of about fifty; whose long grey hair was tied in a tight bun on the back of her head, her face painted with liberal amounts of lipstick and heavy blue eyeliner.

Are you going to marry Toby? Nicole abruptly asked Dana.

Dana smiled, Er…

Of course she isn’t, Nicole, snapped Sophie. Don’t be rude, please.

Yes Mum, said Nicole, dejected.

Unlike her mother, Nicole was anything but tidy in appearance. Even though it was obvious that Sophie had made an attempt to dress her for the occasion, Nicole’s white dress was already spotted with many a stain, while her waist-length brown hair was wild and scruffy.

Where’s Sathe? Sophie wondered brusquely, glancing behind her. She spotted her youngest son loitering nearby, apparently examining one of the plastic potted plants in the corner. Come here please, Sophie ordered in a commanding voice like a drill sergeant. Sathe slouched over.

"Don’t get too excited," Tobias said to him.

Hey Toby, said Sathe, unenthusiastically.

A sullen sixteen-year-old boy, Sathe had scruffy chestnut-brown hair, hunched shoulders and severe acne all over his face. Sophie had forgone trying to wrangle him into formalwear, for Sathe was dressed in an old, olive-green sloppy-joe and baggy, faded cargo pants. He did not look up from the floor.

It was Tobias who broke the silence: Well, are we just going to stand here? That food’s not going to eat itself, you know.

Nicole shrieked with laughter.

No sooner had the five of them taken their places around the table, than Nicole eagerly announced: I wanna get a chocolate milkshake!

This isn’t the sort of restaurant that serves milkshakes, Sophie replied, her red lips tightening.

Aww, whined Nicole, but I want one!

Sophie ignored her, and turned instead to Tobias. So, what have you been doing with yourself lately? she asked. Still working at that travel agency, are you?

’Fraid so, Tobias replied over the rim of his water glass, knowing that he was about to receive a reprimand.

Oh, Tobias, Sophie said with predictable disapproval, when are you going to listen to me and take that modelling job that was offered you? I hate to see your good looks going to waste.

Sathe snorted.

Tobias groaned, Please, Mum, not this again.

Sophie pursed her lips at him, but did not pursue the subject any further. After another awkward pause, she turned her attention to Dana instead.

What do you do? Sophie asked curtly.

Uh…well, right now I’m working as a waitress at a nice café called The White and the Black, Dana replied, feeling uncomfortably self-conscious.

Oh, said Sophie in response.

Tobias twiddled his thumbs absent-mindedly on the tabletop. Sophie looked over her shoulder to see if a waiter was coming. Sathe cleared his throat. Dana took a sip of water.

Only Nicole seemed oblivious to the uncomfortable atmosphere.

I had the best day at school today, she enthusiastically began. We got to do finger painting. It was heaps fun! The teacher said we had to paint our families, so I drew all of you. Susan said mine was the best painting in the whole class! I can’t wait to show you it, Toby.

"Show it to you," corrected Sophie.

I hope you captured my likeness, Nic, Tobias said to his sister.

I sure did! said Nicole happily.

What about you, Sathe? said Tobias. Did you do finger painting today as well?

Yeah right, grunted Sathe.

Sathe’s been busy with schoolwork, Sophie informed Tobias and Dana. But he’s happier than last year because, now that he’s a senior, he no longer has to take the subjects that he doesn’t want to take.

Oh, well, that’s good. Which subjects did you choose? Dana inquired, trying to be friendly.

Whatever, shrugged Sathe, not looking at her.

Not a moment too soon, the waitress, Elle, approached their table, carrying five sets of menus. Would you like me to open that bottle of wine? she asked, setting a menu down in front of each guest.

Yes. Please. Tobias handed her the bottle. Better be pretty good wine, he added in an undertone to Dana.

None for me thanks, Sophie said dismissively. I hate red wine.

Dana looked crestfallen; she miserably watched Elle stride away with the bottle of wine in hand—the wine that Dana had dedicated a good forty-five minutes of her afternoon to selecting.

Sathe disappeared behind his menu.

Picking up his own, Tobias muttered: Well, let’s see what we’ve got to work with here… He scanned the prices, Ouch. I think I’ll have to stick to table water.

Nonsense, said Sophie, thumbing to the vegetarian selection at the back, this is better value than most restaurants, I’ll have you know.

Tobias coughed deliberately. Dana stayed silent, but she privately agreed, the menu was expensive.

I want to have all desserts! said Nicole.

I don’t think so, replied her mother.

As the evening wore on, the conversation was dominated almost entirely by Nicole, who took advantage of everybody else’s silence to bore them all with jokes and endless details about her favourite television programs. Finally, when Nicole appeared to be growing drowsy, Sophie stood up and announced that it was time to leave.

I need to go to the bathroom, Mummy, said Nicole, rubbing her brown eyes with a bawled fist.

Alright, Sophie replied, I’ll take you. She held out her hand and took Nicole’s. Tobias and Dana watched them walk away, disappearing through the door of the women’s bathroom.

As soon as Sophie and Nicole were out of sight, Sathe made a hasty grab for Tobias’ half-empty glass of wine and drained it in one go.

Hey, what do you think you’re doing? asked Tobias, frowning at his younger brother.

’Bout three minutes ‘til she gets back, Sathe replied quickly, snatching up the bottle and slopping more wine into the glass. I wanna get hammered.

Ignoring Sathe, Dana heaved a heavy sigh and slumped forward onto the table with her head in her hands. She hated me, she sighed.

Tobias waved his hand casually in mid-air. Nah, he said casually. Mum’s like that with practically everybody, Dana. I wouldn’t worry ‘bout it.

She doesn’t think I’m good enough for you, Dana sulked, as Sathe finished his second glass of wine. He reached for the bottle again, but Tobias beat him to it.

Alcohol can lead to an early death, you know, he said seriously. I’d be awfully irresponsible if I let you drink yourself to death in three minutes.

Gimme a break, grumbled Sathe, slumping back in his chair and folding his arms across his stomach.

Tobias stood up. I’m just going to the little boys’ room, OK? he quietly said to Dana. "And I’m taking the wine with me," he added to Sathe, who scowled in response.

Dana did not want to be left alone with Sathe, but she let Tobias go nevertheless. She looked across the table at Sathe, who was picking at the acne on his chin, whilst staring up at the ceiling.

When Tobias entered the men’s bathroom, only one cubicle was engaged.

A moment later, the lock clicked open and a voice sounded from within. So, you’re Tobias, are you?

Tobias felt his pulse quicken. The cubical door swung open, revealing the speaker, who was leaning against the doorframe as though he needed it for support. A young man of around twenty-one, he had short, orange-brown hair that was prematurely flecked with grey, especially in the fringe. He looked as if he may recently have been sick, as his skin was pale and pasty, his grey eyes surrounded by deep shadows, as though he had not slept for days.

The young man looked at Tobias for what seemed a very long time before he spoke again. Fancy meeting you here.

Yeah, fancy that, Tobias muttered unhappily, as he was reminded again of the conversation he had had with Dr Hugo Coemen.

I know your name. It’s Tobias, said the young man, pointing at him with almost childlike excitement.

I guess you’ve got me there, mumbled Tobias. He paused for a moment and then tried his luck: So, I guess life in the nut-house didn’t agree with you, eh Conner?

Chapter Three

Patient’s History

Conner looked up sharply. How do you know my name? he spluttered, taken aback.

Tobias smirked, Let’s just say somebody tipped me off.

"Hugo," Conner hissed underneath his breath, looking angry.

What do you want with Dana? Tobias asked coldly.

Dana dear loves me, Conner replied.

In that case she must have her priorities all wrong, said Tobias, eyeing Conner with dislike, because, last time I checked, I’m the one she’s living with.

Conner scowled.

So… Tobias went on, idly toying with the wine bottle in his hands, I hear you killed some people. Did they refuse to go out with you or something?

NO! Conner yelled. He took a deep breath, then continued in a more controlled voice: I never killed anyone, Tobias. That was what the real killer wanted people to think. The funny thing was that it worked. But Dennis will tell you I’m right.

Who’s Dennis? wondered Tobias, uneasily.

Instead of enlightening him, Conner broke into a hearty chuckle, as though Tobias had just told a hilarious joke. Wiping a tear of mirth from his eye, he then asked: Why are you here, Tobias?

Well, why do you think? replied Tobias, becoming annoyed.

Conner started laughing once more, dropping his gaze. When he looked up again his face was set and completely serious. You know what I meant, he said darkly.

Uh… sorry, but I actually don’t, said Tobias, leaning against the sink, feeling ever more confused and uncomfortable.

I am honoured, said Conner, honoured, to be in the presence of the luckiest man in the universe. He sank into a low bow, twirling his hands elegantly.

Hey buddy, if I’m the luckiest guy in the universe it’s a pretty messed up world, Tobias pointed out.

Conner looked up in mid bow. He straightened up, his eyes not leaving Tobias’, his hand still gripping the doorframe of the cubicle. You don’t even realise how lucky you are, do you? he whispered.

Er… Tobias said awkwardly.

DO YOU?!! Conner bellowed suddenly, making Tobias start. Laughing, Conner pointed at him. Ha, ha, I scared you!

If you do anything to Dana, Tobias said, I will call the police.

"Oooo, scary, the younger man gleefully taunted. But try as you might, Tobias, you can’t stand in the way of true love. Besides, I’d never want to hurt either of you. You’re nice. He gave a sigh. I miss my mum. But she tells me we’ll be together again soon enough."

Well that’s… that’s just great…

Tobias began backing towards the doorway; Conner was clearly every bit as insane as Dr Coemen had let on. If you don’t mind, Connie, Tobias said coolly, I’ve got a date with reality.

Conner was watching him intensely, as though trying to prevent him from leaving merely by staring at him.

Do you stare at every guy who comes in here? asked Tobias heatedly.

Only the ones who are living with my girlfriend, replied Conner. Do you know what Tobias? I think you do know. Do you know that I know what you know? I know you know… Conner continued babbling as Tobias’ free hand found a grip on the door handle.

I know that you work as a travel agent, Conner said quietly, abruptly.

Tobias, who had been on the verge of exiting the room, froze.

I thought that might get your attention onto me, smiled Conner.

I guess you’ve done your homework.

Yeah, Conner replied with a wide smile, I’m a good student. Suddenly, he began to dance, moving his hips and clicking his fingers as though he were at a party.

I love this song, said Conner, even though there was no music to be heard.

I really think it would be best, Tobias began testily, if you went back to your shrink.

Conner did not seem to realise that Tobias had even spoken. Fortunately, a distraction soon arrived in the form of Sathe, who pushed open the door and slouched inside, his shoulders slumped, hands in the pockets of his sloppy-joe.

C’mon Toby, Sathe said when he spotted Tobias. Mum’s not leaving ‘til you say good-bye. Tobias remained silent for a moment, whilst Sathe, noticing Conner, began to frown. Who’s your friend? he whispered to Tobias, sounding almost as though he were trying not to laugh at Conner’s dancing.

Trust me, you don’t wanna know, Tobias whispered back.

Then, as suddenly as he had begun, Conner stopped mid-jig, sightly winded, smiling widely.

Well, he said, clapping his hands briskly together. That was fun. But I guess you have to go now… Pity. Remember to tell Dana dear I love her.

Huh? Sathe looked across at Tobias for an explanation.

Don’t worry, he’s nuts, Tobias said in an undertone.

I heard that, said Conner in a dignified voice, and yes, I do enjoy nuts, especially pistachios, but I’m not crazy, if that’s what you mean. I’m perfectly sane in the membrane. Sane in the membrane! And you can pass that message along to Hugo. It was nice to meet you, Sathe, he added.

Hey– how does he know— Sathe began, but Tobias chivvied him hastily out of the doorway.

Bye, bye, Conner called behind them, enjoy the rest of your life, Tobias.

As soon as he and Tobias were outside the bathroom, Sathe asked: "Who was that guy?"

I dunno, just your random psycho, Tobias replied distractedly, eager to put as much distance between himself and Conner Ellis as possible. Tobias silently fought with himself on the way back to the table. He could not decide whether to tell Dana about his meeting with Conner. He wanted to know from where Dana knew him, but on the other hand he did not want to upset her unless it was absolutely necessary. But an uncomfortable inkling told him that he was going to see more of Conner in the days to follow. If Dana was in any danger at all, then she had a right to know about it.

You took your time, Sophie remarked, as soon as Tobias and Sathe reached the table, Tobias hardly listening.

Are you ready to go? Dana asked Tobias pleasantly, standing from the table with her coat draped over one arm.

Uhh… murmured Tobias, staring off into space, as he entertained a parade of doomsday visions of Conner in his mind’s eye, each of them more troubling than the last.

Noticing his worried expression, Dana asked in an undertone: Tobias, are you OK?

What? said Tobias blankly, snapping out of thought.

I asked if you were OK, Dana said, looking concerned.

Oh, yeah, fine, said Tobias distractedly. Dana looked at him doubtfully.

This has been quite an enjoyable evening, Sophie was saying as she helped Nicole into her coat. We really must get together again sometime soon. However, next time we will have you over for dinner at our house instead. Sophie turned to Dana. "It was… nice to meet you," she said stiffly.

It was a pleasure to meet you too, Sophie, Dana replied, smiling as politely as she could. Sophie returned her smile, although her green eyes remained cold.

I like you! Nicole said, slapping Dana lightly against the arm. I hope you and Toby get married!

Dana smiled graciously. At least she had somebody on her side.

The five of them then made towards the register, where Elle, the waitress, accepted their payment, not bothering to disguise her discontentment when Sophie neglected to spare so much as a cent in the way of a tip. Finally, when they were standing upon the red carpet outside the Royal Blue, Sophie turned directly to Tobias, acting as though Dana were invisible.

It was lovely to see you, Tobias, Sophie said, giving her son an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

You too, Mum, he replied with a weak smile.

I can’t wait ‘til you come over to our place! said Nicole brightly, as she swung from Sophie’s arm.

See ya, said Sathe, with a half-hearted wave.

We’ll keep in touch, Sophie added to Tobias, before turning to leave, with not so much as a nod to Dana.

Tobias and Dana watched in silence as Sophie, Sathe and Nicole set off across the darkened parking lot in the direction of Sophie’s blue BMW, which was parked close by.

Dana heaved a deep sigh. I wonder what I did wrong, she said unhappily, taking Tobias’ arm.

You were wonderful, Tobias replied, forcing Conner from his mind. He kissed Dana on the side of the head and said: I don’t care what Mum thinks anyway. I don’t hold her opinion in very high regard. Do you know she wanted me to be a model?

Dana grinned. Yes, I think I did hear her mention something…

Kind of goes to show how much faith she has in my intellectual abilities, Tobias went on bitterly. I can never tell if she’s proud of me or not.

She’d be silly if she wasn’t. Dana gave Tobias’ hand an affectionate squeeze.

Hmm, smiled Tobias. Now I remember why I like you. They kissed as they crossed the parking lot, their footsteps loud on the pavement.

"Somehow I don’t think Sathe really wanted to