Meg drops her stick, curls back her lips to display teeth, bristling and growling.

Klempner frowns…

“Shhh… It’s alright.” I scratch her ears, calm her down. “As I said, she's a shelter dog,” I explain. “A rescue. And they know, more than almost anyone else, that there are monsters in the world...”

His eyes dart between me and Meg…

Dare I say it?

“… And some of those monsters walk around looking just like real people.”

I stoop, pick up Meg’s stick and throw it overarm as far as I can. She races after it, scattering snow behind her, the rest of the dogs in her wake.

Klempner relaxes, drooping his eyelids, head shaking so slightly.

Apology?

“Self-knowledge can be unsettling, can it not?” he comments. But his voice is mild. “So… given that you claim to have the answer to the perfect relationship, returning to the start of our conversation, why are you out here? Agonising over the right thing to do with your Ryan?”

I don’t have an answer. I settle for prevarication. “Why are you out here?”

“If you insist, I’m trying to decide how to go forward with Mitch.”

That was settled…

… Wasn’t it?

“You don't know? I thought you and she were…”

“No, I don’t know. You’re right. Mitch was a hooker. But what I wanted from her was never for sale. Not until the day Jenny was in danger. Then she offered herself to me.”

“And...?”

“And... I didn't accept. I didn't want her on that basis.”

Enthralled by the revelations coming from this dangerous, fascinating man, “What did you want?”

“I wanted her to want me. That's all I ever wanted.”

Meg returns, carrying her stick, to drop it at Klempner’s feet. He ignores her and she yaps, lashing her tail.

“So, what’s your problem now?” I ask. “The pair of you looked pretty chummy to me when we were inside.”

He grimaces. “I… never expected to get this far. I’m not sure what comes next.” He grins, quite disarmingly, then, “Why are you talking to me like this, Kirstie?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

as though we know each other. Yet you seem prepared to trust me with…

“Yes.”

“Why?”

him again. “Because they do.” He casts startled eyes down at my barrel-bodied little girl, then around at the other dogs, cavorting in the snow. “Anyway, I could ask you the same question. Why are

you're worth getting to know. And considering what Haswell is trying hard to put your way, James isn’t the only one

*****

dogs collapse in

the air; doing his best ‘Dead Bluebottle’ impression. Archie nudges up beside him trying, unsuccessfully, to ease him to

pair, expression neutral. “Is that a natural

Mac’s tail twitches and his

he stay in

or another…” I mouth the

on the cheek. Subdued, he returns the kiss, but his voice is slow. “Is everything alright, Kirstie? You were outside a long

We

of a stepladder, places a final branch of holly on

looks up from her paper-folding.

out. I was sure we’d

get some more. The dogs would enjoy another walk.” As I utter the W-Word, Mac revolves through one-eighty into an upright position and is back on his

“Thanks, Kirstie. I’ve still not defrosted after

stirs. “Mind if

sure. If you’d like to. You

wind the scarf around my neck, Archie starts yapping and Scruffy,

fire. “No, I think I’ll stay

past me to the door, blocking my

*****

a bough,

branch and passing it back down. I lay it on the stack in my

themselves. Until, with a sharp yap, Archie announces, Squirrel! And the troop of five bolt off, howling and yelping to the

thirty feet or so, the squirrel chitters down, spitting insults, then leaps to the next tree and away. The dogs give chase, their howls fading

eyes the performance. “Is it

yes… That branch there would be

out with the secateurs,

“Something wrong?”

reply, but his eyes are

expression is savage, and something

Baxter…

shoves the secateurs into a pocket. “Get back.” Reaching out, he grabs me by the wrist and tugs, pulling me backwards, placing himself between me

there's a Crack!

in the spot. Leaves quiver, shedding their

brought that here?”

the loose,” he mutters. Then, gun levelled, he

is another shiver

It’s too low…

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