“She shouldn’t feel like she’s in danger in her own front garden,” whispered Alice’s mother in a hushed berating way. The tone of her voice made Alice curl up with guilt inside, though she knew that she wasn’t the cause of her mother’s ire.

“There’s not much we can do about it, Kate,” replied Alice’s father wearily. The sound of a spoon tinkling against the edges of a cup seem to peal through the quiet like cathedral bells. Alice remained silent and still, hidden around the corner. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but now seemed inexplicably caught. Lured by the promise of freshly baked cookies, she had padded softly downstairs and headed towards the kitchen only to find her parents in heated debate. Unwilling to interrupt, she had stayed outside the room, quietly listening for an opportunity to enter without drawing undue attention to herself. Now though, the argument seemed to have fallen quickly away into silence and she feared that she would be in hot water if her parents heard her softly retreating footsteps.

“What about the police?” asked her mother, softly but plaintively.

“And what would I say to them? That I don’t like the neighbour’s dog being in his own garden? They’re more likely to charge me for wasting police time,” was her father’s dismissive reply.

There lay the crux of the argument, Alice knew. Even at ten years old, she could sense that there was something not quite right about the dog next door. It wasn’t just the fact that it barked at people that walked by that set her on edge. It was the aggressive manner in which it stalked the perimeter of the fence, low and sinister like some fabled jungle beast preparing to strike, that concerned her most. She had taken to crossing the road to walk down the road past the house next door, wary of the low throaty snarl the creature warned each passer-by with.

It had taken Alice by surprise when her mother had also begun the same ritual. She had assumed that she would be chided gently, that her parents would have questioned her folly, but no such repercussions had occurred. It had watered the seed of doubt in her mind until it had blossomed into a monstrous entanglement of worries and anxieties.

Unable to hold back any longer, Alice decided that she would risk discovery by entering the kitchen. Her parents looked up, but nothing was said about their prior conversation. Her mother gave her a strained smile, clearly seeking to appear jovial.

“Finally smelled them, I see,” she stated. She held a washcloth in her hands and was distractedly wiping down surfaces that had already been made spotless. Alice recognised the behaviour as something she regularly did when upset or annoyed by something. The atmosphere in the room was tense and cloyingly heavy.

In an effort to alleviate some of the unease, she went over and wrapped her arms around her mother’s middle, hugging her softly. “They smell good,” she affirmed, relieved to feel some of the tightness in her mother relax somewhat.

Her mother’s free hand rose to cradle the back of her hand lovingly, but no other words were said. Alice worried that perhaps her parents were more concerned than they were letting on, perhaps even to each other. A glance in her father’s direction revealed him to be staring blankly at the newspaper on the table in front of him. Alice normally delighted in watching how his eyes danced back and forth whilst reading the paper, but their stillness seemed a poor omen this evening.

“Did something happen?” Alice asked, hoping that her question wasn’t too direct.

“No, Pumpkin,” her father replied quickly, as though startled to life like a doll whose string had been pulled. “Just us silly old folk worrying about silly old things.” He flashed her a tired and unconvincing smile.

Alice turned her attention to her mother, looking up with eyes that were wide with worry. Her mother’s hand slipped from behind her head to cup her cheek. She also gave Alice a weary smile, but Alice revelled in the warmth in her eyes. “We were just talking about that nuisance dog next door. Don’t you worry your heart,” her mother comforted. “I’ll tell you what. Since you’re down here, why don’t you help me with a couple of things? That’ll help ease both our hearts.”

Alice was in two minds about her mother’s proposal, but the need to please sang more strongly than her dislike of chores and after a moment’s consideration, she grinned widely.

Her mother’s smile lost a little of its tired sadness. Like the rising sun on a misty morning, it grew in warmth to dispel cold, lingering uncertainties. “You’re a good girl, Alice,” she said, causing Alice to beam proudly.

Alice hadn’t been wrong about chores and there were many to be completed. It baffled Alice how there seemed to be so many small jobs that needed to be completed when, to her, the house already seemed spotless. She wafted the feather duster around in the top corners of the bathroom, displacing yet another spiderweb. She wasn’t yet tall enough to complete the task unaided, so her father had helpfully sellotaped the handle of the feather duster to a broom handle that had been unscrewed from the broom itself. It felt like she was spearing the webs as a knight might thrust at the heart of a fierce dragon.

She wandered to her bedroom, pretending as though she were stalking her prey, both hands clutching at her weapon tightly. With glee, she spotted her next opponent. An errant web that had been strung from the centre light shade to the ceiling beside it.

“Take that!” she said, harpooning the web. The room seemed to spin a little as the duster connected with the light and sent it wheeling in circles. Erratic light and shadows danced on the walls around her as she shrunk on herself, warily eyeing the door in case her overenthusiastic attack had been noticed. No scolding words materialised and so she grinned before running excitedly down the stairs to share news of her various victories.

When Alice reached the kitchen, she found that her father had left to watch TV elsewhere in the house. It loudly blared from the other room with lines and canned laughter. Her mother was tying up a bag of waste that had been pulled from the interior of the bin.

Alice danced about, skipping from one foot to another whilst she waited for her next chore to be allocated.

“Alright, alright, you little jumping bean. Here, do me a favour and take this out,” said her mother, laughing. She held out the bag by the ties and indicated towards the door. Alice grabbed it gleefully and dashed out of the room, heading towards the front door to exit the house.

Brazenly, Alice stepped out into the cool night air, only to freeze momentarily. The sudden realisation that she had abandoned her fears finally caught up with her and she peered out into the dark. The garden next door was quiet and still. There was no pawing at the fence nor any threatening murmurs. Maybe the dog’s inside? she thought cautiously before stepping out further from the safety of the warm light.

Emboldened by her decision and the continued silence of the night, she continued onwards towards the large household bin at the bottom of the garden. The lid was lifted and the bag was deposited within. Alice turned, wiping her hands on her trousers to dry the dew that had formed on the plastic lid. It was then that she came eye to eye with the shadowy form that had planted itself between the house and herself. Lips drew back as it uttered a guttural, menacing growl.