Page 21 of Now Comes the Dark

“That was last year,” he corrected. “A lot has changed since then.”

“I’ll say it bloody has,” Ashley muttered.

The door to the function room was propped open. It was nearly full when they entered, ten minutes before the meeting was due to start.

“Whoa,” Roman said. “I didn’t expect such a big turn out.”

“Me neither. At least it will make the cops take notice.”

“The press, too.” He pointed out a reporter and two camera operators at the front.

“Good. And I hope this time they report something worthwhile instead of putting out another victim-shaming piece.”

They worked their way through the aisles, looking for two seats together, eventually finding them in the middle of the eighth row.

A handsome dark-haired guy in his early thirties waved at Roman from four rows back. He smiled and returned the wave, uncertain who the man was.

Ashley didn’t miss the gesture. “Who is that? He’s dishy.”

“Not sure yet,” Roman whispered back. “It will come to me.”

Ashley snorted. “Someone who went through the revolving door, I’m sure.”

“You could be right.” By the time Roman took his seat, his memory snapped into focus. “John,” he whispered excitedly. “Or Jack. Something with a J. I met him at The Viaduct last summer. I’ve seen him around a few times since, but we haven’t…you know.”

Ashley rolled his eyes. “You and that place. I wouldn’t set foot in there if you paid me…even now.” He turned his head, seeming to scan to room, but angling for a closer look at the hottie. “Actually, he’s quite nice. I wouldn’t have thought someone as wholesome-looking as him would go to that dump.”

“Looks are deceiving,” Roman said as his memory became more focused. “I thought I’d bagged a big hunky Daddy to…you know.”

“Smash your back doors in. And what? Don’t tell me. He was an even bigger bottom than you are.”

Roman nodded, suppressing a laugh. “Stop staring at him.”

“I bet that was something to behold. Two greedy bottoms arguing over who was gonna get it. What did you do? Just squash your buttholes together for a bit of friction?”

Roman flushed and gently elbowed him. “Shush. This is not the place.”

Ashley scoffed. “Thought so. Aren’t I always right about these things?”

“Don’t be so dismissive. Booty to booty…it’s a thing.”

“For desperate bottoms who make the mistake of hooking up together.”

They each put a fist in their mouths to contain their laughter. It was totally inappropriate, but after all the bad news and anxiety, it was a relief to make fun of something so daft.

Roman composed himself. This was serious business, and they should show respect. The meeting was called to order at exactly six o’clock. He recognised most of the members of the committee at the front of the room. Anjoa, the DJ from The New Inn took a seat on the stage next to Phil. Phil had been the most pro-active of all the bar managers in the village. He’d already held three charity events in memory of the victims. He’d arranged vigils and had set up a neighbourhood watch programme of volunteers to patrol the streets every weekend,looking for people who might be vulnerable from drug or alcohol use and helping them to get home safely. He also provided free personal alarms for anyone who came to the bar and asked for one. Phil had been a major driving force in the community over the dark, winter months…a true local hero.

A handful of others took to the stage. Police officers, Roman assumed, then he caught his breath as someone he did recognise sat down at the side.

“What’s the matter?” Ashley whispered.

“That guy in the blue jacket. I know him.” Benito…the handsome Italian who had wanted to take him out last autumn. He looked good, damned good, in a navy suit and open-necked shirt. The colours complemented his dark, Mediterranean skin tone.

“Is there anyone here you haven’t shagged?” Ashley muttered from the side of his mouth.

“I didn’t know he was a cop.” He struggled to recall what Benito had told him about himself, but Roman would definitely have remembered if he’d said he was a police officer. Like many people he knew, Roman had a distrust of the police. They had done little to support the community, and through most of their investigations, they had displayed a clear policy of victim blaming. Homophobia ran deep through the Blyham Police Force, and Roman doubted they would have much to say this evening that would change his mind.

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