The Lover's Children novel Chapter 9

KLEMPNER

A Christmas tree takes up an entire corner of the lounge, the star at the top brushing the ceiling. It’s highly decorated, but not with anything purchased from a store. Mitch and Jenny both go for the Homemade Christmas look. Paper birds folded origami-style dangle from many of the branches. Mitch’s hand shows in a bewildering array of painted and glinting pine cones, acorns, clove-studded oranges and apples. The effect is striking, especially teamed up with the matching tree in the dining room and the monster that rears up in the hall. She and Jenny sit at the table, making yet more of their ornaments.

Why?

Why do people do this stuff?

I’m fooling myself. Mitch loves Christmas. I know that from long ago…

Maybe I should take her to Finland again?

Perhaps next year, when Vicky’s older…

Haswell folds up his newspaper, tosses it to one side with a snort, then sits, scowling, hands folded, thumbs orbiting each other. “Here we are, Christmas just around the corner and there’s nothing but bad news being reported. You'd think they could come up with one feel-good story.”

“Mind if I take a look?”

“Help yourself.”

I unfold the paper, scan the headlines. He has a point.

Terrorist attack in Mumbai…

Traffic pile-up in winter weather. Police blame speeding drivers…

Slasher killer takes third City prostitute…

Do you suffer from the winter blues?

Haswell looks over his spectacles at me. “See what I mean?”

“Mmmm… yes.”

James strides in; clean shirt, suit pressed, shoes polished.” Ready?”

Haswell checks his watch. Sighs. “I suppose. Wish I could duck out of that lunch meeting.”

From somewhere in the house, a baby starts bawling. Then a second wail rises.

Oh God...

Michael’s mongrel, Scruffy sits up from his basket by the hearth…

Looks like a badly-stitched doormat…

… aims its snout at the ceiling and joins the howl.

Lying over my feet, Bear shifts...

“Not you...” I growl…

... then subsides with a rumble, ears flattening.

How do people stand this?

… This… this… domesticity?

“Think I'll go for a walk.”

“Perfect timing.” Michael stands in the doorway. “Larry, if you’re at a loose end, can you spare me a couple of hours? I could use an extra pair of hands.”

“What with?”

“Got a tree to cut.”

“Another one?”

He follows my swivelling head to the tree in the corner and grins. “Yeah, but not for us. This one’s for Ryan and Kirstie. I promised I’d provide the tree for their dining room. Want to help?”

“Why not?”