Page 14 of The Day After Christmas
‘Sorry. You’re right. Of course.Felicity.’
‘You and Mum had a lot to answer for with that name. And poor Tristan of course.’
Harry blinked at her. ‘It’s good to see you.’
‘I wish I could say the same.’
‘I appreciate it’s a bit out of the blue.’
‘Are you kidding me? I may look calm but trust me, I’m a human panic attack right now. Respectfully… What the hell are you doing here?’ Felicity was seriously contemplating lying onthe floor or doing star jumps just for something to do to escape the awkwardness and burn off this burst of nervous energy.
‘Isn’t it obvious? I wanted to see you.’
‘After twenty-seven years, you just decided today was the day?’ said Felicity.
‘Seemed as good a day as any.’
‘Well, it’s not a good day. I’m working. And I have nothing to say to you.’
Felicity’s jaw clenched painfully and she tried to think calm thoughts. Her father sat a little further back in his chair and regarded her thoughtfully.
‘I can’t get over how beautiful you are. You look just like your mother.’
‘Please don’t.’
‘So grown up. And that red hair…’
‘For God’s sake. I am grown up,’ she snapped. ‘Or at least I’m attempting to be. You missed it.’
He flinched as if he’d been struck. ‘Will you at least let me buy you a coffee?’
‘I’m working. I’ve told you that.’
He began to wave his hand dismissively, then caught her expression and seemed to think better of it.
‘This place is important to me,’ said Felicity, answering his unspoken question.And don’t imagine I can just drop everything for you.
‘Fine. How about next Saturday? Just a coffee in town?’
‘I really don’t see what there is to talk about.’
‘Only about twenty years’ worth of your life that I need to catch up on.’
‘Twenty-seven years, actually. And you’re assuming, of course, that I want to tell you anything about my life.’
‘Ouch,’ said Harry, miming clutching at his heart.
‘Ouch indeed.’
They stared at each other for a long moment then, a million unspoken words tumbling and whirling between them in the void. Mercifully, just as Felicity was beginning to hatch an escape plan, there was a noise from the corridor.
‘Felicity? Are you okay?’
It was Charlie, standing in the doorway looking anxiously from Felicity to Harry and back again. She looked up at him pleadingly.
‘Is this man bothering you?’ said Charlie, and he sounded so much like a character from a movie that she suddenly, irrationally, felt the urge to laugh. His dark hair was flopping over his eyes so much he had to lift his chin to see either of them, like the shy girl inThe Incredibles. But Charlie seemed to think it looked cool and who was Felicity to argue?
It was Harry who spoke first, and his voice was still so unfamiliar to her and yetknown, somehow,that the laughter died on her lips.
