Third Solstice CALIBRE with cover by Harper Page A

as he could in the armchair, held his arms out and grunted in relief as Lee scrambled into place beside him. “That’s better. God, I can’t believe this is happening.”
    “Can you talk to me about ordinary stuff for a bit? I’m trying to work something out, and it’ll be easier if—”
    “If you can hear me droning on in the background?”
    “Something like that, yeah.”
    “Cheeky sod.” Gideon racked his brains. “She’s got a boyfriend, you know. No, not Ma,” he clarified at Lee’s astonished glance. “Sarah Kemp. I bumped into her in the procession with Lorna, and she introduced me to her new bloke. Wilfred, I think he’s called. Seems like a nice enough chap, and he’s got a couple of kids of his own to add to the menagerie. I invited him round to Tamsyn’s party tomorrow. If she has one, poor little bugger.”
    “Oh, she will.” Lee settled his head on Gideon’s shoulder. “And it is tomorrow. Carry on.”
    “Not bored yet? I also ran into Granny Ragwen, or rather I ran after her. I found her in a warehouse, perched on a rafter. No way she could’ve got up there on her own. I’d be worried about her if she hadn’t zoomed over my head on a broomstick five minutes later.”
    “Oh, okay.”
    “You believe me, right?”
    “Course I do. Just a normal night on the beat for Sergeant Frayne. More, please.”
    “I met Darren Prowse. He’s got a legitimate job.”
    “What? Now you are pulling my leg.”
    “Seriously. Wants a reference and everything.”
    “Wow.” Lee took this in quietly, running a hand over Gideon’s chest, tracing a thoughtful pattern. “People move on, don’t they? They become what they should be, just as you said.”
    “Actually, Darren said that too.”
    “They change and they move on, whether we’re ready or not. The thing is, Gid—I’m really not sure it’s your ma’s time to go, and I’m struggling to figure out if I feel that way because it’s true, or because I’m not ready to part with her.”
    Gideon swallowed a hot lump in his throat. “I’m not bloody ready either.”
    “That’s why I hesitated to say it. I didn’t want to make you hope.”
    “Not your responsibility. Let’s have a look at her.”
    They went to take a seat on either side of the bed. Gideon had avoided this place, reserved as it was for mourners and those who watched hopelessly through long nights. If he could have helped the old lady by going out and getting stabbed again, breaking every bone in his body, he’d have gone to do it bravely, but settling here was hard. He suspected a little makeup had crept into Ma Frayne’s life since the pastor had died last year, and he was certain she got her hair done once a month because she’d learned to text him a wobbly selfie of the end result, guiltily thrilled with herself. All that was gone now. The nurses had washed her hair after stitching the cut on her brow, and her face was a grey-white mask. “They did it wrong,” he said hoarsely, dabbing at her fringe. “Her parting. It’s on the wrong side.”
    “Fix it, then.” Lee passed him the comb which the good son Zeke—the dutiful one, who picked up his phone when needed—had remembered to pack and bring in. “You’re her good son too. Don’t be afraid.”
    With infinite caution, Gideon plied the comb through the white hair. The tracks he was making reminded him of ploughed fields in the snow, and being with Lee in a lane on the outskirts of Dark two years ago. Zeke had cast a demon from Lee that day. That had been Zeke’s view of the situation, anyway. Lee had said, not wholly jokingly, that any demon trapped between two big Frayne lads would vacate the premises out of sheer terror. Gideon hadn’t known what to believe. He supposed the point was that the three of them together had made a stand. “Lee. Did you tell me it was tomorrow?”
    “Yes, I did.” Lee glanced at him from the far side of the bed, his expression kind and penetrating. “After half four in the