Hindi right next to the phone, obviously caught mid-sentence. Then the voice said in English,

“Hullo?”

“Um, Mr. Singh?”

“Yes?”

“Hi, it’s Ryan,” he said in a rush. “Is Ash there, please?”

“Ah!” Mr Singh exclaimed. “Hello, Ryan. What happened, hm? You boys have a tiff?”

“Um...what do you mean?”

Mr. Singh’s deep voice chuckled in his ear. “Ash stormed in earlier, slamming around, now he’s

sulking in his room!”

“Oh. Um, no. I mean, it wasn’t with me,” Ryan said, heart hammering. “Can I speak to him,

please?”

“Hold on, hold on,” Mr. Singh said, his accent making the words sound clipped. The music and

kitchen noises grew quieter. Ryan assumed Mr. Singh was walking around with a cordless phone.

“Ash!” Mr. Singh barked, then spoke a quick stream of Hindi. Ryan heard Ash’s voice answer in

Hindi, sounding somewhat sulky. Mr. Singh laughed, then Ash’s voice was on the phone.

“What?”

“Ash, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said shortly.

He was definitely in a mood, Ryan thought. “Er, that’s good. Um...can you tell me what happened

with Fizz?”

Ash paused before saying, “Nothing.”

“Come on, mate,” Ryan urged him. “What happened?”

“Why?” Ash snapped. “What’s he said?”

“He hasn’t said anything.” Ryan tried to keep calm. “He’s asking for you, and he doesn’t seem

right. Was he acting strangely when you were with him?”

Silence.

“Ash?”

“Yeah.” A quiet admission. “Yeah, he was a bit.”

“But you don’t know why?”

“No, I don’t know what happened,” Ash said. “One minute he was fine, and the next....” He trailed

off.

Ryan breathed in and said, “Apparently he’s taken pills.”

“What?” Ash sounded genuinely surprised. “What do you mean, pills?”

“His own medication, apparently,” Ryan said. “But he’s acting so...weird.”

“Like what?”

“Um....like, all huggy. Like he’s drunk, or something, you know?”

Silence. Ryan could hear Ash’s breathing on the line.

“Was he like that with you?” Ryan asked.

Ash sighed. “Yeah, he was. I don’t know what happened, honest. He was all over me, then suddenly

he freaked out, and told me to get lost. So I left.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“I’m not lying!”

“Okay, okay,” Ryan placated. It wasn’t like Ash to snap at him. He felt sure Ash was telling the

truth, but he had to ask. Ginger was only going to interrogate Ash more. “Look, we’re all worried

about him,” Ryan said. “Would you come back here? He’s been asking for you.” And Ginger wants to

wring your neck.

“Really? But Fizz told me to leave him alone.”

“He’s asking for you now,” Ryan said. “He’s...I don’t know, Ash. I think we’ll have to take him to

hospital or something.”

“Shit,” Ash said. “Okay, I’ll come straight over. But don’t wait for me if you have to go, all right? I

can follow you.”

“Okay, thank–” Ash had already hung up. Ryan put his phone back in his pocket and breathed in. He

gripped onto the bannister, then paused. Giving into temptation, mostly for reassurance, he brushed

his fingers on Ginger’s jacket. Please, he thought to himself. Please be all right, Fizz. He took another

deep breath, then slowly ascended the stairs.

Rachel appeared in the stairwell when he was halfway up the stairs. “Ryan!” She looked at him

incredulously. “The bar’s getting busy, and I’m supposed to finish in an hour.”

“Okay, I’ll send Sammy down.”

“Oh, great.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “Like that’ll help.”

“I’ll tell him to pull his weight,” Ryan said.

Rachel disappeared again, the irritation radiating off her. Sorry, Rach, he thought. Ryan trudged up

the stairs, trying to think what else he could do. Why did everything always happen at once? He hadn’t

even had a chance to say sorry to Ginger for annoying him earlier. Ryan shook his head, remembering

all too clearly the way Ginger had shrugged his hand off. Never should have done it, he thought. Never

should have touched him.

Ryan walked in a daze, step after step after step. When he reached the already open staff door, he

heard voices. He looked up as he put his foot on the bottom step, pausing. Sammy and Matt were at

the top of the stairs, on the landing. They stood at the entrance to the pigeon loft. Ryan wondered what

was happening now. He walked up the stairs, and it was only when he reached the top he heard

Ginger’s voice, and a thump come from inside the pigeon loft.

“What’s happened?” he asked.

Sammy pulled a face as if to say, isn’t it obvious?

Matt said, “Ginger tried to get Fizz downstairs. Wanted to take him to casualty.”

“Right,” Ryan said, glancing into the pigeon loft as he heard another crash, followed by shouts. “So,

what happened?”

Sammy smirked. “The brat wriggled away from him, and ran back in there.” He indicated to the

pigeon loft with a jerk of his head.

Ryan didn’t like the sound of that. He didn’t like the thought of going back in the pigeon loft either,

but he wasn’t about to leave Ginger on his own.

First things first, though. “Sammy,” he said. “Can you please cover the bar? Rachel is getting

swamped, and she’s off in an hour.”

Sammy didn’t look pleased. “And what happens in an hour? I’m not working on my own, Ryan.”

“When you get down there, call Pete and ask him to come back before seven. Explain it’s urgent.

He’s probably at Tony’s, so he won’t be far away.”

“All right, fine,” Sammy muttered.

“And Matt.” Ryan addressed the bigger man. “Are you prepped for the evening run? Solstice is on

tonight, so it’s bound to get busy later.”

“Yeah,” Matt answered guiltily. “I’ll go get ready.” He moved off, with Sammy close behind him.

A loud crash from the pigeon loft demanded Ryan’s attention.

Ginger. Fizz. Right.

He stepped inside, rounding the open doorway to Fizz’s room. Ginger stood in the centre, holding

his hands out like he was trying to instil calm. Ryan could see random objects lying on the floor; a

torn pillow, feathers, the old stereo, now smashed and broken. Fizz was on the far side of the room,

almost against the wall. He brandished a small lamp like a weapon, its broken wire trailing on the

floorboards. He looked like a cornered animal, ready to fight.

Ryan’s heart pounded. He was scared, but he had to help. Ginger was usually so good at calming

people down, an expert at diffusing drunken pub brawls before they happened. Maybe because Fizz

was his cousin he wasn’t thinking clearly. Backing him into a corner obviously wasn’t helping

matters.

Ryan stepped into the room. “Hey,” he said softly. Ginger looked round at him, obvious relief in his

eyes. Ryan knew he’d do anything for that look. “It’s okay,” he said, fingers gently brushing Ginger’s

arm. “I think you’re scaring him. Step back a minute.”

Ginger looked upset at that suggestion. “But he needs a doctor.”

“I know,” Ryan said. “But let’s stay calm, yeah?” He pressed Ginger’s arm, just a gentle push.

Ginger thankfully took the hint, and stepped back. The skin on Ryan’s fingers burned from the contact,

but he had to ignore it. He turned his attention to Fizz. Instead of approaching him, Ryan went to

Fizz’s bed. He sat down on one side, leaving plenty of room. “Fizz?” he said, patting the mattress.

“Come sit with me.”

Ryan wasn’t sure it would work, but Fizz immediately fixed his eyes on Ryan. He dropped the lamp

and it clattered onto the floor, its bulb smashing on impact. Fizz didn’t appear to notice as he hurried

to the bed. He dropped onto it, settling beside Ryan, and wrapped his arms around him. Ryan tried to

stay sitting up, even as Fizz attempted to pull him down. Ryan bit his lip.