Page 1 of Dead Serious Halloween Special

Ijolt out of sleep at the sound of my alarm, which has all the subtlety of the horn blare of a cruise ship coming into dock.

Reaching out, I desperately jab my finger several times against the lit screen of my phone on my bedside table, but it does nothing, just continues to blast obnoxiously at me. Unable to see anything other than a bright blur, I grab my glasses and wrestle them onto my face. Once I’m finally able to see the cancel button, I hit it with a little more force than needed and then flop onto my back, my heart hammering.

I’ve tried the alarms that ease a person gently out of sleep, but they never seem to work with me. Only a sound reminiscent of a host of stormtroopers making their way through my bedroom stomping along to the sound ofThe Imperial Marchcan wake me up.

Fuck. I hate mornings.

I turn my head towards Danny to once again apologise for the volume level on my alarm—I don’t know why; it’s not like he isn’t used to it at this point—but the other side of the bed is empty. The duvet is tossed back to reveal cold, rumpled sheets.Somewhat confused, I lift my head from the pillow and listen intently.

Nothing.

If Danny is up before me, I can usually hear him in the shower or pottering around in the kitchen, but the flat is silent. There’s not so much as a drip of water or the hiss of the kettle.

I toss back the duvet, climb out of bed, and shiver. Any other day, I’d ignore the alarm for at least another fifteen minutes and burrow down into my warm cocoon, but for some reason I feel uneasy, like something’s wrong.

Curious, and maybe a little unsettled, I grab my favourite fleece blanket from the BJ throne in the corner of the bedroom and pad softly out of the room in search of my husband.

I shiver again in the cold air and remind myself to reset the timer so the heating comes on a little earlier now we’d hit a cold snap. Wrapping my blanket around my body, I head for the living room and pause in the doorway. Danny is stood in front of the window staring out into the pitch black outside. Given that it’s late October, it’s still an hour or so from dawn.

I’m not sure what he’s looking at, but I’m even more concerned about how still he is. Honestly, I’m not even certain he hears me or senses my presence. I cross the room and wrap my arms around him from behind. He doesn’t even startle, just shifts slightly and lets out a slow breath.

“You’re freezing,” I mutter. Pressing against his back, I open the blanket and enfold him in a comforting hug, trying to warm him with my body heat. He’s like a bloody ice cube. “Danny, what’s wrong?”

He sighs again, his body relaxing slightly against me before he turns in my arms and gazes down at me. I can barely see him, his face shadowed and backlit by the pale moonlight.

“Danny?”

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t. My alarm went off and you weren’t in bed. How long have you been up? You’re freezing.”

He shrugs, and his voice comes out as a low, contemplative rumble. “I don’t know. A few hours, I suppose? I couldn’t sleep.”

From experience, I know there’s no point in pushing him to open up before he’s ready.

I rise up onto my toes and press my mouth to his. It’s a soft, chaste kiss, one filled with love and comfort.

He pulls back as the kiss breaks and wraps his arms around me in a tight hug. I can feel the warmth of his breath as he tucks his face into the crook of my neck, breathing me in.

“Come on,” I say, as I rub his back soothingly. “Let’s go into the kitchen. I’ll flick the heating on and make us some tea and toast.”

For a moment he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even move, then he slowly draws back a fraction and nods. One hand still clutching the blanket to me, I slip the other in his and tow him from the room. The kitchen is even colder than the living room, and Danny is standing so close to me I feel him shudder.

“Sit.” I flip on the light and push him onto one of the kitchen chairs, then unwind the blanket from my body and fold him into it like a human burrito. He doesn’t look good. His face is pale and there are dark shadows under his eyes.

“Are you coming down with something?” I automatically raise my hand to his forehead to check for fever, but his skin is cold.

“No.” He manages a small smile and cups my other hand resting on his cheek. “I’m okay, promise. I just didn’t realise how cold it was. I should have put a hoodie on or something and definitely should have checked the heating.” His brows draw down in a frown. “It should’ve come on by now.”

“We forgot to reset the timers when the clocks went back.” I shake my head, turning towards the cupboard where the boiler is.

Quickly and efficiently, I open it up and switch the heating on, adjusting the thermostat. “There, that should warm up quickly enough.”

Filling the kettle, I switch it on and nip back to the bedroom to pull a hoodie on over my PJs. I jam my cold feet into the slippers shaped like ghosts. Our nephew, Nick, had thought they were hilarious and bought them for my birthday a couple of months ago. Before I leave, I also grab a pair of thick socks for Danny.

By the time I get back to the kitchen, Jacob Marley has sauntered in and is trying to clamber onto Danny’s lap. In reality, he’s clutching onto the blanket for dear life with his front claws while his fat, furry body dangles between Danny’s legs, his little back paws scrambling in the air for purchase.

Danny huffs out a quiet, amused laugh and scoops him up, then settles him in his lap and strokes him affectionately. My stomach unclenches a fraction at the sight of his smile as it eases the tension at the corners of his eyes.