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?”

Yet you seem prepared to trust me with… personal stuff… And to think

“Yes.”

“Why?”

grin as she pushes her stick at him again. “Because they do.” He casts startled eyes down at my barrel-bodied little girl, then around at the other dogs, cavorting in

that you're worth getting to know. And considering what Haswell is trying hard to

*****

apparently exhausted, the dogs collapse in a heap and peace

legs in the air; doing his best ‘Dead Bluebottle’

the pair, expression neutral. “Is that

out.” Mac’s tail twitches

he stay in

or another…”

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

We were just

Michael, on top of a stepladder, places a final branch

looks up from her paper-folding.

I was sure we’d picked

I do so. “I’ll go get some more. The dogs would enjoy another walk.” As I utter the W-Word, Mac revolves through

Kirstie. I’ve still

if I join

sure. If you’d like to. You

scarf around my neck, Archie starts yapping and

fire. “No, I think I’ll

tornado barges past me to the door, blocking my way

*****

branch there?” I point up at a bough, glossy green

and passing it back down. I lay it on the

scratch, getting under my feet and making a nuisance of themselves. Until, with a sharp yap, Archie

next tree

“Is it always

That branch there would be a good one. It’s covered with

stretches out with the secateurs,

“Something wrong?”

but his eyes are scanning the

is it?” His expression is savage, and something bites in

Baxter…

into a pocket. “Get back.” Reaching out, he grabs me by the

his words, from behind me, there's a Crack! Then a muffled rustling

spot. Leaves quiver, shedding their load of snow. Reaching into his jacket, he takes out

brought that

tilts his chin up, eyes intent. “That bastard's still on the loose,” he mutters. Then, gun levelled, he stalks to within a

is another shiver

It’s too low…

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