The Gang picks up my mood, milling around. Archie bounces about, yapping excitedly until Meg snaps at him and he sheers off. Then as the four play at rough-and-tumble under the table, Scruffy joins them and I snap. “Quiet! All of you!”

The dogs subside and assemble under the desk, panting. Ryan stares at me. “Kirstie?”

I shouldn’t have done that.

They’re only enjoying themselves…

Too much wine...

That’s what I tell myself anyway. “I’ll be back in a while. I’m taking the dogs out.”

He starts to rise from the chair. “I’ll keep you company.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s alright.” He stares after me as I exit the study.

Wrapping a thick scarf around my neck and tugging mittens onto hands, I call the dogs and once more they bounce jubilantly after me as I head outdoors.

I gasp at the frigid wall of air as I open the door. The Gang don’t seem to notice, tumbling out into the snow as I carefully pull the door closed behind me.

The icy air and brilliant sunshine are an instant antidote to my ill mood. Around me lies a vast sparkling snowscape, covering grass and shrub and tree, rolling down the mountain to where even the lake lies as a single glistening sheet.

What do I have to be miserable about?

Really?

I pace up and down in the snow, watching the dogs playing, racing around in silly circles, barking joyously.

What’s wrong with me?

Just nerves?

Self-analysis isn’t easy. Sometimes one must face unpleasant truths.

Is it just nerves?

Just anxiety about the biggest purchase I’m ever likely to make?

Or is it more?

Ryan…

I was single for years. Happily so.

And then Ryan appeared in my life.

I love you.

I want to

he excavates a hole, spraying snow backwards and covering Meg and Archie. They’re so

I catch that mood from

my neck and I jolt

I’m being watched…

Don’t be ridiculous…

Cautiously, I scan around.

is

Is he watching us?

fucking

why Klempner’s

the edges of my

me, is Charlotte’s father. His face impassive, Klempner stands at the back of the terrace, leaning against the wall, cradling a steaming mug

“Oh, sorry. I

smiles pleasantly. “You're not disturbing me.

too. It’s all a bit…” I wave my hands uselessly, not knowing

My what?

I don’t know.

a moment then, “Is something

sorts.” His brows rise, as though waiting for me to keep speaking. For some reason, I want to fill the silence. “There’s a lot

slowly, pursing his

perhaps there’s a reason I’m

he out here by

“Are you alright?”

that when I accepted the invitation to Christmas, I didn't really know what to expect. I thought all that…” He waves back in towards the house… “… stuff just came out of movies. Holly and trees and mulled wine… I never believed it was real.” He sips at his drink. “The whole Christmas family thing… is wonderful and they're making me very welcome, but it's all rather

“To tell the truth, I find it all a

to Charlotte, certainly. I don't think she's had very

his mug.

who I'm talking to. That this solitary, silent man,

he seems civilised

someone

not too

“What happened?” I ask.

stay for Christmas. You have a problem

of course not. It's their home. They can invite whoever they want. But it's not what I meant. I meant, what happened to you? I mean, you’re Lawrence Klempner…” His lips quirk… “… And yet here you are

of

started, so I finish…

with amusement. “What you expected? Yes, in fact

My cheeks burn…

laugh. “James did mention that you're apt to let your mouth run

Oh… Jeez…

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