60
Kieran Borsden
Susanne hated it when Aled smoked cigars, even if it was just the one every now and then. “Bin,” she said, “but keep one.” Robert did as he was told, handing the final cigar to his mother after he had disposed of the rest. Susanne tore it apart, sprinkling the tobacco inside the box, explaining to Robert that this was for bait – smoking was a disgusting, very bad habit that bad things loved to do. She handed the repellents to Robert so he could add them as well. The box done, mother and son recited a short prayer of protection and closed the lid. “You take that upstairs and tuck it away somewhere safe,” Susanne prompted, “tell no one where it is and it’ll stay safe forever.” Robert promised he would do as his mother had said and they returned to the upper floor and the bedrooms for some much needed rest. On the landing, outside his room, Susanne kissed Robert’s head softly before ushering him into bed. “Tomorrow is Christmas’ eve,” she whispered, “try and get a good sleep, babes.” She waved as she moved away, slowly closing the door - sighed and made her way back to a snoring Aled. Stealthily sliding between the bed