"What in Drinswick," Jay wheezed as he lurched backwards. "It's daylight."
"Almost," said Jo, putting a hand over his eyes from the approaching glare. "Twin full moons."
"Not watching their instrument panel more like," Suzé added, one hand over her eyebrows, the other outstretched at the passing vehicle. "It's not the cat's-eyes countryside."
"At least they've passed," said Jo, rubbing his eyes. "I might be able to see properly in a bit."
"Could have brought your shades," said Jay, "and a parasol to boot. Saying that - they haven't - got very far."
Taking a hand away, Jo turned. Close to the entrance of the last street they had crossed, the vehicle/carriage had come to a halt; rear lights like a pair of nocturnal frog's eyes. Only Jo couldn't remember a frog with ears like doors as two people disembarked from either side. A sight momentarily blocked by the stream of a triple-streamer'd bandana as Jay swept past.
"You're not going to-"
"Won't take long."
"Pause and listen," Suzé flowed in.
Jay stopped and half-turned towards Suzé as Jo cupped an ear. "I don't understand it," one figure was saying, stood under the streetlight and looking at the carriage-front. "The back ones are still on."
"They were all on before," the second person replied, standing almost against the wall of a house. "But the front ones have cut out."
"Cut out?" the first person repeated, then pushed the second person onto the pavement, "I told you not to have them on full beam!"
"But they were fine not a minute ago," said Jo, staring open-mouthed as the first person got a bag, or morning star, out of the vehicle, then land blows upon the curled-up driver.
"Were they now..." Suzé hummed, looking up at the street-glared night sky.
"But you're-" Jay began.
"-Not supposed to do that," Jo finished.
"Like you're not supposed to go over there and start an argument, James," Suzé continued.
"When the twin moons have already been eclipsed. Shall we be going?"
Jo looked back at the second person lying on the floor whilst the first was heading to the opening carriage back. Then joined Jay in following Suzé along the present stretch of road. A pavement complete with a waist-high wall and an upper layer of manicured twinkle-box hedge. Although with the grand, arching trees on either side, the section beyond the next avenue looked more like a tunnel than a road; even with the warm-hued streetlights.
Then again, the tunnel didn't appear to be very long, since things - or rather the road - seemed to get brighter after the Avenue after next. Although he couldn't remember the names of the five avenues between Orion - the one they had come out of joining Ullista Road - and Miss K much further up; save named Plenum Violaceum...
"Hey," a voice broke into his musing, "It's working. It's working!"
"Eh?" said Jay as he joined Jo incoming to a stop and turning to look back down the road.
"Why didn't you try that in the first place, you daisy-head!" the person - no, woman -shouted as she pursued a man around the fully lit vehicle; just missing a passing carriage. "Listen to me next time!"
"He would be wise to," Suzé yawned. "Second chances don't come every day."
"Did you... fix them?" Jo asked.
"Call it Point made," Suzé smiled in the gleam of the overhead streetlight. A light that also revealed the name of the avenue that they were about to cross: Plenum Violaceum of all places.
"Can't you get it to turn round and offer us a lift," said Jay.
Suzé stopped on the other side of Violaceum and looked at Jay. "What do you think I am? A compulsionist?"
"We could have hopped on something. Especially with the Climb."
"It's not like the Field, both Lanes and the Heights," Suzé continued. "Call this a warm-up."
"I should be winding down," said Jay. "Single lamp; a couple of cookies. Soft chair and some light humour. Not marching to a place frequented by thrill-seekers and danger-makers."
"So that's where they're going," said Jo. "Firework Ginger and Umber Chocolate decreasing by two each sunrise."
"You're winding yourself up," said Suzé. "Before we left the office if you want to be specific."
"How many times," Jay sighed. "I'm bringing things to a long-overdue conclusion that doesn't involve either of you."
"You have responsibilities," said Suzé.
"Including replenishing my confectionary," added Jo.
"Can-"
"Wait. Wait!"
Jo and Jay both looked back down the road. The carriage was on the move again, but the man was running after it; arms like signalling windows. "Wait! You can't leave me like this."
"Say you're sorry," the woman's voice snapped from an open window interior.
"I made a mistake. Hey, you're going faster - I can't keep this up much longer-"
"Say it, you, delinquent!"
"Please!"
"They'll have half the street up at this rate," said Jo.
"All the more reason to see if someone, or some four, joins in," said Jay, adjusting one of his scarf tails. "Go on Suzé, say what's got into me."
"Probably would if she was still here," Jo replied, looking at where Suzé had been standing next to the sign on the low wall for Violaceum Avenue; only to see the crested sign looking back.
"Not Drinswick here," Jay repeated. "She dragged us out here for Trumpetina's sake."
"What do you expect when you've been winding up like a clock," said Jo, stopping his glance down the wide and nocturnal quiet of the Avenue to look at Jay.
"I told you both before: I should be winding down."
"It's just me here, no thanks to you."
"Oh, for crying out loud," a voice came from the vicinity of Nimbus, or even Orion Avenue. "Stop the whining!" coupled with not one, but three upper-level windows opening on the habitation beyond the shrub-decored wall Jo and Jay were next to.
Glancing at each other, they crept to the corner of the wall where a lemon-scented tree rose between them and the potential onlookers.