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.

to be bound to

blur as he excavates a hole, spraying snow backwards and covering Meg and

I catch that mood from

back of my neck and I jolt to a

I’m being watched…

Don’t be ridiculous…

Cautiously, I scan around.

said Baxter is still

Is he watching us?

the freakingly fucking obvious

Klempner’s

shifts on the edges of my vision and I

silently watching me, is Charlotte’s father. His face impassive, Klempner stands at the back of the terrace, leaning

idiot. “Oh, sorry.

“You're not disturbing me. I just wanted

all a bit…” I wave my hands uselessly, not knowing how to express

My what?

I don’t know.

me for a moment then, “Is

a bit… out of sorts.” His brows rise, as though waiting for me to keep

slowly, pursing his lips. “So there

there’s a reason I’m

out here by

“Are you alright?”

up, his smile turning brighter. “No, I'm good. It's just 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

“To tell the truth,

important,” I say. “It's important to Charlotte, certainly. I don't think she's

his

who I'm talking to. That this solitary, silent man, is Lawrence Klempner: murderer, terrorist,

he seems civilised

someone to

who’s not too

“What happened?” I ask.

“James invited me to stay for

I meant. I meant, what happened to you? I mean, you’re Lawrence Klempner…” His lips quirk… “… And yet here you are helping

the gross ill-manners of my question

I finish…

tinged with amusement. “What you expected? Yes, in fact I do only have the

My cheeks burn…

huffs a laugh. “James did mention that you're

Oh… Jeez…

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