The following morning Kieran woke to the driest mouth and sorest head he'd had in months.

It was Saturday, and outside, the weather was being fickle. Yesterday's wind and rain had gone, leaving a virtually cloudless sky. The sun cut through the morning, banishing shadows to some other dark place.

Kieran stood in the kitchen, sipping a strong cup of coffee and staring out at the garden. He could only vaguely remember the slightly surreal night he'd had with Ashley the night before, and he was more than a little confused about her manner. She had been so forward, and because Kieran had never met her before, he was unsure whether she was like that all the time, or whether it was the drink, or even whether it was just an over-compensation for the tragedy of the situation. Either way, he felt wrong-footed.

His thoughts were disturbed by the sound of Gandalf pushing open the cat flap with his head. The cat seemed to be checking the mood of the place before committing himself to entering. He saw Kieran and made the decision to come in. Kieran had pre-empted his arrival and had already filled the cat bowl with food.

Kieran rubbed his temples; he was waiting for the paracetamol to take effect; though with a hangover like this he wondered if the two pills he had taken would be enough.

The letterbox in the front door rattled, and Kieran heard a few envelopes flap to the carpet. Carrying his coffee with him he went to collect them. A bank statement, an AOL CD and an electoral register form. He opened the letters on the way back to the kitchen and dropped them on the table next to the newspaper. Gandalf had finished eating and was staring blankly at him.

He began to think about the day. Saturday morning was a bad time to go to Sainsburys. It was always so busy, and overrun with screaming mischievous kids, but it was the only time he was able to go, as he never got back in time to go shopping in the evenings. So, despite the fact that his head was booming with the pain of last night's alcohol, he knew he had to just do it. He finished his coffee and put the mug down on the table next to the letters.

That was when he noticed the bank statement he had just opened. Something was wrong with it.

In amongst the cashpoint withdrawals of twenty pounds here, and thirty pounds there, and the council tax direct debit and the phone bill, was a payment of fifty pounds made by cheque. It was a payment he didn't recognise, and Kieran struggled to think of whom he might have written it out to.

The cheque number was 10149.

After mulling it over for a few seconds - during which time he considered that someone might have torn out a cheque from the book while he wasn't looking - he picked up the telephone and dialed the number for his bank. A recorded message told him that his branch was closed, and that he needed to call back during business hours, which meant he would have to wait until Monday.

He replaced the receiver and went to get his workbag from the living room. From it, he took out his chequebook and flipped through the stubs to cheque 10149.

The stub was blank. Kieran was taken aback. He always filled in the stubs. At least he thought he did.

Looking at the bank statement, Kieran saw that the cheque was paid in a week ago, though the cheque would obviously have been written sometime before. The two stubs on either side of the blank stub were a week apart, and that was three weeks ago. Try as he might, he couldn't remember what he'd written the cheque out for.

The solution to that particular puzzle would just have to wait until Monday.

 

~

 

As the morning gave way to afternoon, the clear skies gave way to dark ominous clouds, and a hard driving rain fell out of the sky. Kieran sat with Gandalf on the living room couch eating carrot cake and drinking tea, enjoying the cosiness of being shut in with his cat for the rest of the afternoon while the rain hammered down outside.

There was showjumping on the television, but Kieran wasn't watching it. He was thinking about Spireclaw. Whenever he brought the word to the front of his mind, dusted it down and re-examined it, he felt as though it was pushing at the edge of his senses, elusively trying to get away. The dictionary had declared the word as unknowable, which meant it was little more than a jumble of letters. And what were letters without meaning? In fact, when he thought about it, the only reason he had devoted this much grey matter to it was because he'd seen the word written twice, in two far removed locations in space and time.

The telephone rang. It startled both Kieran and Gandalf. The cat was clearly put out by such a rude interruption and he leapt off the sofa. Kieran got up and went into the kitchen to answer the shrill ring.

'Hello?'

'Kieran hi, it's Ashley.'

'Oh hi. How are you feeling?' Out of the back window Kieran could see a torrent of water toppling from the gutter that ran along the back of the house and splashing into the drain on the patio. The wind had knocked over some empty plant pots. It was a thoroughly miserable day outside.

'Please, don't ask. I feel like someone's driven a truck over my skull.'

'Oh, nice.'

‘This weather doesn’t help my state of mind either.’

‘I know what you mean.’

There was a slightly awkward pause, then Ashley said, 'I've just got into work, though I'd much rather be in bed sleeping off this hangover.'

'I can imagine.'

'But, well I brought that tape in with me to give to one of the guys here to fix and, well, it's not broken.'

'Not broken? What do you...?'

'Look. Honestly Kieran. We're you playing a joke on me or something?'

'A joke? Of course not. What do you mean it's not broken? You saw it last night. The tape had snapped at the leader.'

'Well,' Ashley said. 'That's what I thought I saw. In all honesty I was so bloody drunk, I wouldn't have been surprised if… if your cat had struck up a conversation with me.'

'I promise you Ashley. I'm not the sort of guy who plays practical jokes. Especially under the circumstances.'

He waited for her to acknowledge his honesty, but she remained silent.

'So you listened to the tape?' he added.

'Yes, I did. It's a bit weird though. I can't imagine why it's so important to you. Did you make the recording?'

'No.' Kieran said. He was wondering how he was going to explain that he'd actually stolen it from his office. Well, borrowed rather. But would she even care?

'Is it something to do with that newspaper?' she said.

Kieran wasn't sure how to answer. 'I don't know. Well, theoretically, yes.'

'Theoretically?'

Kieran thought maybe he shouldn't tell her any more than he already had. He realised that this was where he decided if he wanted it to be his own thing or not. His instinct was telling him to keep it to himself. But hadn't he already involved her by asking for her help with the tape? But then, hadn't that been just to say something to change the subject when he thought he'd offended her the night before. And was it even something that merited the time and attention he was giving it?

'Ashley, look. Could you make a copy of the tape?'

'Sure.'

'And are you free tomorrow night?'

'Tomorrow night?'

'We could get a meal somewhere.'

There was a brief pause on the line.

'I've got some things I need to sort out.'

'Monday then.'

'I'm working Monday night. But I can do Tuesday,' she said.

Kieran noticed Gandalf sitting near his empty bowl staring accusingly up at him, 'Tuesday it is then. I'll tell you about the tape and the newspaper over dinner.'