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

“Yes.”

“Why?”

startled eyes down at my barrel-bodied little girl, then

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

*****

the dogs collapse

down, all four legs in the air; doing his best ‘Dead Bluebottle’ impression. Archie nudges up beside him trying,

neutral. “Is that a natural

he’s chilled out.” Mac’s tail twitches and his lips pull

he stay in that

someone offers him food or another…” I mouth the word silently…

his voice is slow. “Is everything alright, Kirstie? You were outside a long time talking with…” He jerks his head towards Klempner, returned to his seat at the back

fine. We were

of a stepladder, places a

looks up from

was sure we’d picked

The dogs would enjoy another walk.” As I utter the W-Word, Mac revolves through

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

“Mind if I

you’d like to. You can

scarf around my neck, Archie starts yapping

the fire. “No, I think

to the door, blocking my way to the hall. “Let me past, you silly

*****

that branch there?” I point up at a bough, glossy green with leaves, cheerful and Christmassy with

branch and passing it back down. I lay it on the stack in my basket, then aim

yap, Archie announces, Squirrel!

safety of 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 into the distance as they high

eyes the performance. “Is

branch there would be a good one.

out with the secateurs,

“Something wrong?”

his eyes are scanning the area

is it?” His expression is savage,

Baxter…

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

words, from behind me, there's a Crack!

their load of snow. Reaching

that here?” I

tilts his chin up, eyes intent. “That bastard's still on the loose,” he mutters. Then, gun levelled, he stalks to within a few feet of the bush. “Out! Right now. Hands

another shiver of the

It’s too low…

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