He closed his eyes and gave up fighting the overwhelming urge to sleep. If he had another nightmare then so be it. Luke took a deep breath and welcomed the images that came to him.

As he drifted off into deeper slumber, Debbie was soon lying next to him in bed. He rubbed his eyes to get a clearer view then he stared at her in awe as she slept soundly. Her soft hair tangled in his fingers and her lily-scented moisturiser delighted his nostrils.

In his dream, the light from the moon outlined the shape of her face. Isobel began to coo in the next room. Slowly he turned and rolled out of bed.

He left the room and entered total darkness. Isobel’s cooing turned into screaming before hitting a piercing shriek. As he entered her room, he saw a beast. The huge shadow with red eyes bore deep into his mind. But it disappeared, gone in a flash. His heart pounded as he gazed at the crib. The crib was empty and hadn’t even been slept in. The bawling continued to sound through his head. ‘Isobel,’ he called.

‘Daddy,’ said Max in a distorted voice. Luke ran and ran, from one room to the next, searching. His heart beat like it was going to explode from his chest.

‘Debbie,’ he called. ‘Max.’

‘Daddy,’ the voice called back as it disappeared. Isobel shrieked louder. He ran faster. How had his house turned into a maze of dark concrete walls that all led to nowhere? Every turn he took led to another walled corridor. He ran until he reached his bedroom.

‘Luke?’ Debbie called. He ran and turned into his bedroom. The beast was upon her, suffocating her with his large body. Isobel was trying to feed from her breast, being crushed between the beast and his darling Debbie. The creature turned to him, fiery eyes glowing in the dark and rancid saliva dripping from its mouth, contaminating every part of Debbie. He watched as the beast enveloped his wife and they both disappeared, taking the suckling Isobel with them.

---

The latch on the back gate clicked back into place. Luke jolted up in bed, covered in sweat, his eyes wide open. His heartbeat was so erratic, he thought he might vomit. He turned on the lamp as he fought to get his breath back. Debbie wasn’t next to him, she never was. He listened in the dark as someone walked across his garden slabs before stopping outside the back door. The handle rattled.

He leaped out of bed and ran to the window. He stared out and saw a dark figure trying to open the door. His heart continued to pound as he ran down the stairs and crept across the kitchen floor, trying to remain out of the intruder’s sight. The figure was now on the other side of the windowpane. Luke wanted to turn on the light but he knew his eyes would be slow to adjust. He had to see who this person was. Maybe it had something to do with Debbie.

He remembered the man sitting on the wall the other day, watching him and Brooke from afar. Had that been a coincidence? Too many odd things were happening now. He slid open the kitchen drawer and snatched a bread knife. He’d never used a weapon before and had no idea what to do if it came to it, but he clenched it in front of his chest.

The intruder gave up on the window and walked back to the kitchen door. Luke watched as the hooded figure stepped back and grabbed the plant pot that sat by the side of the door. As the man leaned back to smash the pot into the window, Luke pressed his face against it and held up the knife. The figure dropped the pot with a loud crash and darted out of the garden before Luke managed to get a proper look at him.

Luke ran into the living room, knocking into the Christmas tree as he swerved towards the window. He watched as the intruder ran off into the darkness. He looked at the illuminated clock on the DVD player; it was just gone three in the morning.

He ran up the stairs into Heidi’s bedroom. She lay there open-mouthed, sleeping soundly. Holding his chest and exhaling, he crept into Max’s room and watched as Max stirred then went back to sleep.

He darted back into his bedroom. A few minutes before the intruder had disturbed him, he’d believed that Debbie was next to him. He’d touched her, smelled her, felt his heart burst with love as he’d stroked her hair. But he’d gone to bed alone and he had woken up alone, as he had done for years now. The dream had felt so real. He felt his eyes begin to tear up. He rolled over onto Debbie’s side of the bed and hugged her pillow. ‘I miss you, Debbie,’ he whispered as he let his tears fall, slamming his fist into the pillow.

‘Daddy?’ Max walked into Luke’s bedroom with one eye open, clutching a small blanket.

‘Hello, little man. What are you doing up?’ Luke wiped his tears away and forced a smile.

‘I heard a funny noise. Were you running around the house?’

‘Yes. It was nothing. I just had a bad dream.’ Luke knew he had to call the police about the attempted break-in. ‘Do you want to get into my bed for a bit?’ He lifted his son’s tired body onto the bed and placed him gently under the covers. He leaned across him and turned off the lamp before kissing him on the head.

‘Love you, Daddy,’ Max whispered. ‘Where’s Mummy’s picture?’

Luke pulled open his bedside drawer and placed the photo back on the table. ‘I just moved it when I was cleaning,’ he said as he stared at Debbie’s photo.

He’d tried so hard to find her, back then. All the searching and all the following of her friends and colleagues had yielded him with zero information. It had however yielded him with many a hangover. As the seasons had passed following her disappearance, the reward posters he’d left on all the local lampposts had become weathered, eventually falling off and flying away in the wind, along with her memory. Life went on. The news channels and papers stopped reporting about her and the children eventually found a new normality.

The world was moving on, but how could he ever do the same?

‘Do you think Mummy’s ever coming home?’

A tear fell down Luke’s face. ‘Of course she is.’

‘I’m going to dream of Mummy. I like dreams of Mummy,’ his son said as he snuggled into the quilt and closed his eyes.

Luke slid out of Debbie’s side of the bed and crept downstairs. As he passed the lounge, he noticed that several Christmas baubles and a Christmas snowflake chain that the children had made out of coloured paper lay on the floor. He bent down, picked them up and hung them back on the tree. He went into the kitchen. The DI’s card was on the side, exactly where he’d left it. He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and called the number.