I can’t imagine it, the little boy cries. 

It’s okay, baby. You don’t need to picture a thing, his mother says, stroking his head. 

It doesn’t make sense. 

It will never make sense. 

Is it like sleeping? 

I think so. 

I don’t want to go to sleep. 

She cannot do it anymore. She speedwalks out the room. The little boy does not see her leave, but he notices that her hand is gone. It is quickly replaced by his father’s hand. There is a skylight above the boy’s bed that he stares through whilst he is awake. 

Seen any birds today? His father asks.

Only seagulls, the boy answers. The seagulls seem to like it here. 

It’s all the chips. They go where they see chips. 

I thought they go where they see sea. 

They live by the sea, but they go where there are chips. 

Do they only eat chips?

I wish. They’ll eat anything they can get their little beaks on. You buy some food you can be sure there’s a seagull skulking on a lamppost waiting for you to let your guard down.

Does that mean they steal? 

They’re the biggest thieves on the coast. They steal anything and everything. They even stole a star once. 

A star? 

Here’s what happened. It was Christmas eve. Everyone came together and they put up a tree as big as a building. They decorated it in all sorts of tinsel, baubles, they threw plastic candy canes on it and hung gingerbread men on the branches. Me and your mum came to visit it. I’d never seen a tree that big. And on top of that gigantic tree there was a golden star. It stood at the peak and it shone bright against the night. 

Where did they get the star? 

They borrowed it from the sky. They had an agreement every Christmas for it. Anyway, the star would glow in the night, and it would reflect all the lights that shone around it. The town were anxious about the birds taking it. They didn’t want to see anything so precious to be stolen. But the council assured them it would be fine. They said the star would be too heavy for any bird. They had two grown men haul and place it on the tree, to show how heavy it was. The birds came that night, as birds do when anything pretty shows itself around here. And, as the council promised, the star was too heavy for any bird to lift. 

How did they steal it then? 

His father smiles. Slow down. I’m getting there. The birds, they stood atop the tree next to the star and they tugged at it with their beaks, but it just wouldn’t move. They held it tight and flapped their wings. Still, the giant thing wouldn’t budge. But these seagulls were greedy. In their greed, two of them grabbed the star at the same time and when they flapped their wings they saw it lift, ever so slightly. 

They squawked in excitement and more of their friends gathered at the top of the tree. Five big seagulls each closed their beak over a point on the star and they all lifted it together. It was just enough to remove the star from its branch. But their wings were too large and they were too many to fly away with their treasure. They tried to fly but they each moved in separate directions and the seagulls lost their grip and the star fell from the sky and hit the concrete below, shattering into a million little pieces. 

Was the sky sad it lost a star? 

The sky was very sad. It cried for two weeks after it heard the news. But it got over it eventually.  Still, there was a little black mark in the sky where the star should have been, one that blotched the sky forever.

He leans into his son’s ear. He whispers, do you want to see something neat? 

The boy nods as much as he can. As emphatically as one without the use of their body can move anything. His father smiles. He reaches into his pocket. 

Your mother and me, we were about when the seagulls stole the star. And you know what we did? 

What? 

He stands over his boy and he shows him a shard of something. It is golden and it shines metallic under the skylight. 

Me and your mother took a piece of the star each. I keep mine in my shoebox. She keeps hers with her jewellery. When we were walking away, your mother rushed back. When she returned, she held out another piece. The piece I’m showing you right now. We took it home with us and one day we thought we would give it to our child, when they were all grown up.  

You stole it? 

Some things are worth doing anything for. 

He sets the shard down on his son’s chest. 

I want you to have your piece of the star now. It’s an early Christmas present. 

Am I going to get arrested? 

He laughs. He keeps laughing and he can’t stop himself laughing and he’s almost hysterical, slapping the side of the bed, sniffling and with tears running down his face. 

She walks back in. 

What are you laughing about? She asks. 

He points to the shard on his son’s chest, still laughing. 

He asked if he’s going to get arrested. 

Mummy, am I a criminal now? 

She smiles for the first time in weeks. Her husband continues to laugh. Their little criminal watches the seagulls flying overhead.

Can we go see the tree this year? He asks. 

The parents look at one another. 

Christmas is still three months away, his father says. 

I know, but we can do it, right? When Christmas comes? 

She is out of the room so quickly it feels impossible. 

His father’s rough hand is wrapped around his again. 

Sure. Sure we can.