The release of the laughter, prompted and then allowed for a more somber air to pervade the room. They talked long into the night, mostly about old times until Alan fell asleep in his chair. Then, as the dawn broke over Barton and the first shaft of sunlight played on Alan’s smoked glass window pane, Nick quietly got up out of his chair and made his way down to the front door and opened it. The new day flooded in and as the cool air hit his senses he stretched his arms upwards and cast his eyes, over the waterway towards the dark husk, that was the remains of No.1 Shed.
Then suddenly, just as Nick reached down and was going to start the engine, a great cry rent the still air and made him look up. “Kaw,” insisted the single note and then again, “Kaw,” it called. Nick shuddered slightly as he felt the past, encroaching on his present.