Chapter 7: Last Christmas

Cerys wedged open the library door with her body and waited.

She could hear their conversation clearly, every player on the stage: the entitled dickhead, the disabled hacker, the passionate artist, and the bemused ex-con. It was quite the tableau, but Cerys had never been a fan of the theatre. She was a ‘Netflix and chill’ kinda girl—though lately ‘chilling’ actually meant curling up on the sofa with Catriona and watching hours of Planet Earth.

Then, suddenly, everything changed. She felt the shift in the atmosphere, as she saw the silhouette of the man raise a rectangular object into the air. He was brandishing it wildly, his fingers and thumb nowhere near the front face, not thinking through his threat. She had mere seconds to act before he realised his mistake.

With three balletic leaps, Cerys crossed the distance between them, and then pounced like a panther on the prick. She seized his wrist with her left hand as she bodychecked him, bringing her right arm round to lodge her fist against his neck.

‘Police! Don’t move!’

He struggled briefly, but Cerys applied pressure to his neck and he stopped with a pathetic little sob. Cerys glanced down at Corelia’s backlit face, her expression one of shock and anger and pity. Teen relationships were fucked up. Cerys should know.

‘Corelia, I need you to take the detonator,’ Cerys said, firmly.

She would’ve preferred to use Jason, but then they would lose the light. She was sure the anti-terrorism squad would be ecstatic when she described how she’d used a teen in a wheelchair to secure the detonation device. She would be suspended right after she received her commendation.

Corelia propelled herself forward and reached up for the detonator.

‘Easy now,’ Cerys said.

‘He won’t let go,’ Corelia said. ‘Come the fuck on, Simon.’

Cerys felt him tense and heard the fierce whisper: ‘Fuck you.’

‘NCA! Police! Stop!’

Simon let go of the detonator.

It fell through Corelia’s fingers and landed on the paving stones, breaking apart into a hundred bits of plastic and battery and wires.

Someone collided with Cerys, knocking her off her feet and crushing her into the ground. She heard Corelia yelp as someone grabbed her—and Cerys tried to wrestle her saviour away, to make sure the others were safe.

‘Stay down,’ Owain said.

Cerys elbowed him in the stomach and shoved him off. The sculpture was in darkness except for the glowing liquid within the ring, the main sources of light lost in the commotion and shining outwards towards the empty streets. Where were the kids? Where was the backup? Where was the suspect?

The library lit up all at once, the inside lights shining out over them, as the blue icicles returned to life. Then, the street exploded in light behind them, every shop and streetlight suddenly shining brightly—and revealing the scene.

Simon stood alone beneath the sculpture, now staring up at the library. Corelia’s chair had been pushed backwards, with Heddwen and Jason crouched down behind it, with a woman shielding them—her bright red hair recognisable to Cerys anywhere.

Catriona and Cerys looked at each other and, as one, moved across the small area to reach Simon. Cerys held his arms as Catriona parted his coat.

‘Nothing,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘Are there explosives?’ Cerys asked him, resisting the urge to shake the idiot.

‘N-no, Miss.’

‘You’re lucky we’re not the armed response guys,’ Catriona told him seriously.

‘You want to read him?’ Cerys said, realising Catriona was on duty. She’d forgotten her friend had volunteered to cover the late shift tonight.

‘This boy is coming with me,’ Owain said, coming up to them. ‘This is National Crime Agency jurisdiction.’

He looked exactly the same, with his new military-style buzz cut, tailored suits, and complete lack of morals. Cerys resisted the urge to walk away. Catriona smiled at him as if she was about to break his nose.

‘How about I arrest him, as per protocol, and then you can fight it out with the custody sergeant back at the station?’

‘Cat—’

‘Fuck off, Owain,’ Cerys said, turning her back on him and helping escort Simon towards the road, where a squad car was pulling up, lights flashing.

‘Do you have room for a couple more?’

Amy walked out of the library building, behind two teen boys who looked torn between anger and shame. They both glared daggers at Simon.

‘Let me introduce Alex Matthews and Kieran Davies, co-conspirators with Simon, but very keen to put right his mistake.’

Amy spoke directly to Cerys and Catriona, ignoring Owain entirely and pointedly not looking at where Jason was standing with Heddwen and Corelia. Trying to be professional instead of a worried girlfriend. Cerys had seen that look before, an achingly familiar embrace of the eyes that filled her with a bittersweet tenderness.

Catriona hailed their colleagues in the squad car, and Cerys stood with her, in this little bubble where her ex-boyfriend didn’t really exist and her friend-maybe-something-else was the entirety of her focus. Where Christmas meant family, and family she chose, and it meant moving on from men who sought to define her, limit her.

Arresting teen hackers with Catriona was the perfect Christmas Eve.