"Raindance" (Reprise)

The rain had returned: heavier this week, falling in steady, slanted sheets that blurred the outlines of the towers and turned the pavements into dark mirrors. The sky over Woodberry Down was a deep, uniform grey, making the afternoon feel like early evening. The reservoir churned under the wind, small waves breaking against the concrete edges.

Harry stood under the scant shelter of a tree, camera strap twisted around his hand, hair plastered to his forehead. He’d been there long enough for the cold to settle into his shoulders. He kept watching the path, the rain, the water; trying to appear cool by ignoring the direction from which Dave and Tems would come.

They arrived together, walking in step but not speaking. Dave’s hood was actually up this time, rain dripping from its edge. Tems’ coat was zipped to the chin, her scarf damp, her hair pulled back tight.

Harry straightened his posture but gave no other sign he had seen them.

“You said it was urgent,” Dave said.

Harry nodded. “It is.”

Tems stepped closer, rain dripping from her sleeves. “Then talk.”

A gust of wind pushed the rain sideways, rattling the branches above them. Harry wiped water from his face, blinking against the cold.

“I went back through the footage,” he said.

Dave jutted out his jaw. “Which footage?”

Harry hesitated. “All of it.”

Tems watched him carefully. “And?”

Harry looked out at the reservoir, the surface broken by the rain in small, rhythmic pulses. “It’s not random.”

Dave scoffed. “We know that.”

“No,” Harry said quietly. “You really don’t.”

Tems stepped closer. “Then show us.”

Harry reached into his coat and pulled out a tiny memory chip. He held it between thumb and forefinger, as if it might burn him.

“This was in my storage,” he said. “I didn’t know it was there.”

Dave’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.”

Harry shook his head. “I wish I was.”

He unbent a paperclip and inserted its point into the side of his phone, making a little tray pop open. He clipped the chip in place and pushed the tray shut. His phone chirruped as it recognised the new drive. Stooping forward to shelter the screen, he swiped and poked his way through the menus.

Tems clocked Dave fidgeting in a way no one else would have noticed.

Harry fumbled entering a code he barely remembered. A video opened and began to play automatically. He tilted the screen so they could all see:

Rain. Night. The reservoir path. A woman walking at a familiar pace, holding a familiar posture and making a familiar half-turn at the end.

Not Raye. Not quite.

Tems inhaled quietly while Dave withheld his reaction.

Harry kept his voice low. “This wasn’t part of the project. Not the part I knew.”

Dave edged closer. “Then whose part was it?”

While Harry considered his answer, the video clip came to an abrupt end.

“This is the same pattern.” said Tems

Harry nodded. “Yes.”

Dave looked at him. “And you didn’t tell us.”

Harry’s voice cracked slightly. “I didn’t know what it meant.”

Tems shook her head. “You knew enough.”

The rain intensified suddenly, bouncing off the path, the railing, their coats. Harry stepped back against the tree, but Dave stayed where he was, letting the water hit him.

“You said you were following the other one,” Dave said. “You didn’t say you filmed her.”

Harry swallowed. “I didn’t film this.”

Tems tilted her head. “But you filmed her.”

“Yes.”

“And someone used your footage.”

Harry nodded once. “Yes.”

Dave advanced to within arm’s reach, rain dripping from his hood. “Why?”

Harry looked away. “Because I made her easy to copy.”

Tems exhaled slowly, her breath visible in the cold air. “And now it’s happening again.”

Harry couldn’t deny it.

Dave wiped rain from his face with the back of his hand. “So what’s next?”

Harry hesitated. “It’s not about next.”

Tems frowned. “Then what?”

Harry looked at the reservoir, at the rain hitting the water’s surface in tight, overlapping circles. “It’s about repetition.”

Dave’s jaw started to ache. “Fuck sake. Spit it out.”

Harry met his eyes. “It’s a loop.”

Tems gripped her scarf and pulled it tighter, as if the cold had suddenly deepened. “A loop of what?”

Harry’s voice was barely audible. “Behaviour. Movement. Identity.”

Dave shook his head. “No.”

Harry chose not to argue. The rain eased again, turning into a fine mist that clung to their clothes. The reservoir shimmered under the grey sky, the towers reflected in long, abstracted lines.

Tems attempted to zip her coat higher. “We’re meeting Taylor tomorrow.”

Harry nodded. “I know.”

Dave looked at him sharply. “How?”

Before Harry could answer, Tems completed her sentence. “And you’re coming.”

Harry hesitated. “If I come, I’m part of it again.”

Dave’s voice was remarkably steady. “You already are.”

Harry looked at the water one last time, then at them. “Alright.”

He slipped the phone back into his coat and walked away, the rain closing around him like a theatre curtain.

Dave and Tems stayed where they were, watching him disappear into the grey afternoon, their thoughts rendered equally grey.