Return of the Sun - 15. Chapter 15

They had travelled into Canterbury; it had been Luke's suggestion that they do something cultural. Scott suspected that it was mainly done for his re-education benefit. And as much as he wanted to enjoy himself, he was distracted. He at least had an idea now what Serena had been trying to tell him the day before, but finding sometime to actually talk to her alone was problematic. Especially with Luke dragging them all over the Cathedral precincts and pointing out pieces of history.

It was a simply stunning building, steeped in the history of a nation. The ancient stones almost sang, and there was a feeling of sheer awe looking up at the high vaunted ceiling that made a person feel so small and insignificant beneath it. It had a way of putting things into perspective for Scott. His own problems were petty in the grand scheme of things and he knew it; he was on the right road though, a decent job and the start of some good friendships.

He just didn't know what to do about what he had seen.

They had eventually managed to break up into smaller groups, Dickie adamant that he had enough culture for one day and wanted to find a pub. Typical Dickie, he was never happy unless he had a pint in this hand and a cigarette. Luke had gone with Darren trying to find Thomas the Beckett's tomb, and Serena had dragged Fleur away in an effort to go souvenir shopping. Despite everything the two seemed to be friends, adding to the complicated situation.

"Just you and me then," Dickie stated as the two started off to find a quiet pub, and Scott immediately felt uncomfortable. He didn't want to be alone with Dickie, at least not until he had a chance to find out what was going on from Serena. But he was stuck now and found himself swept along by the charismatic man.

They settled into a pub booth and Dickie affixed those searching eyes on him, "What's wrong?" he asked, taking a long draught from a pint of bitter.

"Nothing," Scott replied barely touching his own, "I just didn't sleep well last night."

Dickie laughed, "Ah, rough night in a car; we've all been there, mate."

Scott nodded looking out of the warped glass window at a troop of tourists being shepherded around by a harried-looking tour guide who didn't look that happy about her job. She kept trying to wave her arms and get everyone to move along, but a group of rebellious vacationers were adamant that they wanted to photograph everything in sight.

Scott sighed tiredly and slouched in the seat enjoying the sunshine; he could close his eyes right there and fall asleep. Even though it was only about midday it had been a long morning, running about all over the place. Luke had set a hectic pace, and it was just good to take a load off and rest.

Dickie watched him a moment. "What were you studying in university?" he inquired jovially.

Scott turned back at the unexpected question; normally people didn't go into his abortive university days, and he shrugged. "A bit of philosophy, English, the usual."

"Ever want to go back?" Dickie pressed, "You know, over here at a real school."

Scott rolled his eyes at the not-so-subtle patriotism; he was used to his friends firmly believing England was the only place on earth worth living. The best way was to ignore it; to call any of them on something they said would only earn him a lengthy lecture about how England was the mother country and how it founded the world, and no little tea party would change that fact.

"I've thought about it," Scott replied taking another drink, "but honestly I don't know if I want to; I didn't get much out of it the first time round."

"It's a matter of finding something you love and doing that," Dickie replied.

"Why theology?" Scott asked, turning the tables. "It's not... well I just can't picture you as a priest." Especially not after that morning.

Dickie scratched his head, those blue eyes boring holes into Scott as if trying to read what he saw in Scott's eyes. His eyes seemed to tighten slightly, but Dickie chose to keep his smile on his face, "I wanted to do something meaningful; I think my mum wanted it more than I did, but I am going back after Fleur has the baby."

"Right," Scott said, "because you're getting something out of it, which is good. I just don't think university is my thing; I want to be out there, doing something with myself."

Dickie nodded around his glass draining his first pint and getting up to order himself another.

* * *

Seven pints later Dickie was drunk, Scott was on his third and feeling a little light-headed. They had covered a wide array of topics from the Peloponnesian Wars through to the stark differences between 'Yanks' and 'Limeys', the latter being a chance for Scott to give as good as he got for a change. He had managed to get a few good shots in, and was feeling rather proud of himself, sitting back, beginning to wonder what had happened to the others.

Dickie leaned forward in his seat, "I wanted to say something to you," he said beckoning Scott in closer to him.

Scott humoured him and leaned in, setting his drink down, "Yeah?"

"The other night in Brighton, that really hurt," Dickie said, having trouble expressing himself. He sat back a bit, a confused look on his face before he leaned in again, "When you said 'I can't give you what you need' that upset me."

Scott blinked, "I don't understand."

"Well, I'm not gay... I tried it once in university but it wasn't for me." Dickie struggled again, "What I mean is, I like you as a friend, you're a great friend and a decent bloke, I just...I'm not gay and I'm sorry about that."

Scott squinted, trying to make sense of what Dickie was saying; did Dickie think he was coming on to him? That hadn't been what he meant, he had said it as a joke, he knew full well Dickie was straight. But Dickie seemed to be having a problem with it, so Scott tried to explain.

Dickie looked at him blankly and shook his head, "It's okay, to like me, it's just I'm not gay; I feel bad about it. You know you make people jealous, right?" He settled back smugly in his seat, obviously happy he knew something Scott didn't, "It's true. You're handsome, you've travelled, it's like you're everything they're not."

Scott nodded his head, his mind dismissing most of what Dickie was babbling about. He was smashed and it was high time they tried to find the rest of them and went back to the camper. As luck would have it, Serena was walking past the pub windows with Fleur and Scott tapped on the glass and beckoned them inside. Serena recognized him, smiled and waved at someone further up the street, pointing into the pub.

A few minutes after Serena joined them, Luke and Darren pushed their way inside.

"We've been looking all over for you two!" Serena accused, her hands on her hips.

"We've been right here," Dickie chuckled as he slid a little in his seat; there was no denying how toasted he was.

Serena rolled her eyes and extended her hand to Scott, "Gimmie the keys," she said exasperatedly, "there's no way I'm letting you drive us back."

Scott stood and fumbled through his pockets, pulling out the keys and giving her his lopsided grin, "Sorry..."

"It's okay," Serena said, "Do you remember where you parked?"

"I'll take you there." Scott offered.

"How about we wait here for you both?" Darren suggested eyeing the bar and licking his lips.

"That's a good idea," Scott agreed a little too readily, finally glad to get Serena alone for the chat he needed to have with her. There were the obligatory nods all round and they left leaving the four to sit around the table. Dickie leaning forward in his seat again, "Hey, guess what..."

* * *

He was glad to be out in the fresh air; the wind was picking up a little and they both walked in silence down towards the car park where they had left the Rover. It had been big enough to ferry all of them so fortunately they had just brought the one vehicle.

He stopped and bought an ice-cream cone from a vendor and they walked, finally breaking the silence that had descended on them, "Something on your mind?" he asked.

She glanced at him, "I..."

Scott decided to take the direct approach, "I was peeing this morning, saw a bit more of nature than I wanted to, as well."

Serena flushed bright red, "You...you saw?"

"I saw," he confirmed as they crossed a cobbled street under a gate that had to date back seven hundred years.

She looked at him, mortified, "Oh."

He nodded, "Yeah, big oh."

They continued on in silence, as she seemed to consider how much she should tell him, her eyes thoughtfully staring at the pavement in front of her feet. And Scott kept quiet himself, thinking back to his own garbled conversation with Dickie.

Dickie had a powerful draw about him; there was no question there. Scott had watched people gravitate towards him. Those powerful eyes held your attention and made you listen to what he had to say. And ordinarily, Scott might have been attracted to him but there was something else about Dickie that just made Scott want to keep him at arm's length.

It wasn't something he could accurately put his finger on, it was this thin vein of arrogance that made Scott cringe. Like the assumption that Scott had feelings for him; that was just plain wrong. Scott liked him, respected him, but loved him? No chance of that, Scott wasn't Fleur; he at least had enough self-confidence to avoid that trap.

"We've been seeing each other for the last week," Serena admitted finally. "I don't know... it wasn't as if we were trying to do anything, we just ended up... it just happened." She looked at him as if she needed him to understand that. Some kind of validation that she wasn't the evil monster she felt like she was. It had to be tearing her up inside.

"It's okay," he said reaching out to squeeze her shoulder, "you don't need to explain it, sometimes these things just happen." He smiled in a way he hoped would reassure her he was being sincere.

"Yeah, well..." Serena said still not sounding convinced.

"So you're getting some, no big deal." He gave her a roguish grin, "Looked like you were having fun." He twisted his face in an imitation of ecstasy, "Ohhhh..." he moaned.

A passing nun flashed him a scandalized look and sped up to get away from the lurid American. Her aged features took on a look of horror as she hiked up her skirts. The two friends giggled.

"Ok, stop that," she said. "You realize this means I get to see you starkers; it's only fair."

"No chance of that," Scott replied as they rounded the last corner and came upon the Rover. "I don't drop my drawers and go at it in the middle of the countryside."

"You don't go at it at all," she stated. "Come on, I mean you haven't even so much as snogged anyone since you got here."

"I'm saving myself," Scott replied climbing into the passenger seat. "You know, Mister Right and all that."

"I think you're just too timid." She adjusted the seat and the mirrors before starting the Rover with a roar, startled by the sound of the engine rumbling like a rhinoceros about to charge. She popped it into gear and they began to drive back to the pub.

"There is this guy at work," Scott said with a grin, "but he's married."

She screwed up her nose, "Ewww, you don't want to do that."

He looked at her in genuine surprise, "You're a fine one to talk, look at you."

She shook her head, "That's different. Dickie's not married."

He shifted in his seat and gave her a serious look, "He's about to have a kid, just be careful okay?"

She nodded as they drew up, the others standing in a quiet group on the side of the street. As they climbed sombrely into the Rover Scott wondered what had happened to the high spirits. He glanced back at them; Luke was staring hard-eyed out of the window, his jaw set in that classic 'I'm pissed' pose he carried so well. Fleur was clinging onto Dickie for dear life, and surprisingly she shot Scott a look before snuggling into the crook of her boyfriend's arm possessively. Darren just looked like someone had died.

"Well, aren't we a cheerful bunch," Serena murmured as she put the Rover back into gear and drove back to the camper. The atmosphere inside the car was so strained that Scott turned on the radio to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled over them. He rested his head against the window and watched the world flow past.

As if by some divine cue, it began to rain.

It was as if life had suddenly become infinitely more complex in the space of a few short hours. They were all wrestling with mature problems on a trip that was supposed to let them feel like kids again. They were supposed to leave all that behind and have fun; instead life had stalked them down like a ravenous lion, pouncing on each of them and killing the last vestige of enjoyment.

Scott wanted to go home.

It turned out when they returned to the Camper that he wasn't the only one. Fleur had unanimously decided that she didn't want to be there anymore. A loud argument with Dickie had resulted in everyone agreeing to head back a day early. And Scott rubbed his forehead resting in the bench seat of the Winnebago watching as everything was packed away again.

Serena had no idea what was going on either, she sat across from him wide-eyed holding onto a cup of tea she had insisted on having. Since it was Serena's Metro she was being forced to leave as well.

"I'm going to find out what's going on," Scott decided, getting to his feet and pulling on his jacket and walking out to where Darren was piling bags into the back of the Rover.

Darren sighed, pushing back his wet hair and looked at Scott. "Hey," he said, his eyes still desperately sad, almost disappointed.

"What's up?" Scott asked, bending to help him lift bags up into the back of the car.

Darren shook his head, "It's not my place mate," he said tiredly. "Just we'll go out for a drink tomorrow okay?" He met Scott's eyes and made it clear he meant it.

Scott frowned, scrubbing the side of his head as he stepped back to let Darren shut the trunk. Dickie and Fleur had come back from wherever it was they had gone to continue their argument, neither acknowledging anyone else as they climbed into the back seat.

Darren cupped Scott's shoulder with his hand, walking over to get into the passenger seat of the Metro. Serena came out of the Camper a few minutes later pulling on her own coat and looking up at the rain-soaked sky. She gave him a light brush on his arm as she went around and got into the driver's side of the car, giving one last glance at the caravan as she did so. So much for the vacation.

Dickie's head turned and his eyes met Scott's a second before he wrapped a hand around Fleur protectively. Scott lifted a hand as the Metro rolled away, letting it fall to his side as the rain started to hammer down.

"We're leaving," Luke ordered, walking around to the driver's side of the Rover, the cold hard look back in his eyes, making it clear that Scott wasn't driving. He pulled open the door forcibly and climbed inside and slammed it shut.

"Great," Scott murmured to himself, "this is going to be fun." He opened the door and got in closing it behind him and buckling his seat belt.

Luke was gripping the steering wheel tightly staring ahead; he finally wrestled with whatever he was wrestling with and reached down to start the Rover. The stuttered choking of the engine caused both of them to look at the dashboard. Of all the moments it would pick.

Luke tried it again. The Rover made a valiant effort to start, spluttering and fading into clicking. He turned the key again, and was rewarded with more clicks. He slammed his hands down on the steering wheel in frustration, "Shit!"