Free Lost Christmas by David Logan

was angry with himself. Goose started backing away.
    â€˜Don’t go,’ pleaded Anthony. ‘There’s some kind of pattern: she lost a bangle, you stole the bangle, you lost your dog and here we are. It’s got to mean something, hasn’t it?’
    But Goose wasn’t listening. He was scared. Who was this weirdo? How did he know about the bangle? Goose had to get away from him. As far away as possible. He turned on his heel and started running. Goose ran faster than he had all day. He looked back only once to make sure Anthony wasn’t following. He wasn’t. Goose kept going.

9
WALKING ON EGGSHELLS

    Helen Taylor woke softly as she felt a small body slipping into bed with her. She opened one eye and saw a lump making its way up towards her under the duvet. Then a small, perfectly formed little hand appeared and touched her face. Helen smiled.
    â€˜Hello, baby girl,’ she whispered, and lifted up the duvet to see her daughter’s beautiful, bewitching blue eyes smiling up at her from a face framed by a mass of blonde curls.
    â€˜Hello, Mummy,’ said Milly Taylor. Helen kissed the palm of her six-year-old’s hand and sighed.
    Just then Helen became conscious of the sound of running water. She frowned and glanced over her shoulder,to see an empty space next to her where her husband should have been.
    â€˜What’s your daddy doing up?’ Helen asked Milly. The door to the en suite opened and Henry strode out. He was wearing a shirt and tie. Helen sat up, adjusting the pillow behind her. She realized that Milly wasn’t in the bed with her any more. She hadn’t noticed her leave.
    â€˜What are you doing?’ she asked Henry.
    â€˜That’s an odd question,’ was his reply.
    â€˜Are you going to work?’
    â€˜Yes,’ he said, but didn’t look at her. He sat at the end of the bed with his back to her and pulled on his socks.
    Helen was tall and thin. Bony, most would say. She had hard, angular features that were all perfectly in proportion, but there was nothing feminine about her. Her hands were large, the same size as a man’s but with long, slender fingers. She was a strong, intelligent woman who had been to very good schools and paid attention. Both physically and intellectually she was intimidating and she knew it.
    â€˜Today?’ She knew her tone was verging on combative but she didn’t care. He couldn’t possibly be going to work. Not today of all days.
    â€˜There’s someone I have to see before the holidays.’ Henry still didn’t look at her. He flicked imaginary dots of lint from his socks; anything so as not to look at her. He could feel her glaring at the back of his neck, making hisneck feel hot. He wondered if it was turning red. She said nothing, which was worse, and finally he felt compelled to turn. He looked at her but only from the side. ‘It won’t take long,’ he said calmly. ‘An hour or two at the most.’
    â€˜Don’t worry. Take all the time you need.’ He hated it when she sounded like that. The words were reasonable, but the tone was aggressive. There was a sharpness to them, making it clear how offended she was.
    â€˜Don’t be like that,’ he said. He could feel the ever-present anger creeping into his voice now. He had to leave quickly before he said something he’d regret. ‘I have responsibilities.’ Immediately he wished he hadn’t said that.
    â€˜And what about your responsibility to me?’ Helen let a beat of silence hang for just the right amount of time before adding, ‘To Milly?’
    Pain shot through Henry at the mention of the name. He had hardly slept. He had lain awake most of the night, listening to Helen snore softly. At one point she had cried out in her sleep. Henry had turned to look at her, wondering if he should wake her. He could see she was dreaming and that the dream was upsetting. He had a pretty