Page 21 of The Day After Christmas
‘Go on then. Do it. What are you waiting for?’
‘Give me a minute.’
Andrea nearly snatched the piece of paper from her hand. ‘Okay, fine. But if you don’t do it soon, I’m calling him.’
‘Don’t you dare. Knowing you, you’ll end up trying to sleep with him.’
‘Why? Is he hot?’
Felicity’s stare was like daggers.
‘What? Sorry, not the time or place.’ Andrea’s apologies, which were rarer than hen’s teeth, never really sounded like she meant it.
CHAPTER 13
Aweek later and she still hadn’t called Harry. But something had shifted, that was for sure.
Felicity had gone from shamelessly sending her father away to desperately wanting to see him. She had no idea how it had happened. She had just that one conversation and her dim and distant memories to base an entire man on. There was not a jot of further information – except for a very ordinary-sounding address in Eastbourne – and before that all she knew was that he’d abandoned her shamelessly, leaving her with a mother who was next to useless, and a brother who seemed to have inherited the selfish abandoner gene. It was a miracle that Felicity had even made it to adulthood at all. And yet.
And yet there was this pull, like gravity.Call him. Call him. Call him.
She bit her lip one more time, then picked up her phone from the arm of the sofa and scrolled to Harry’s name.
Come on then.
‘Go on then,’ said James, giving her a nudge, as if he knew instinctively what she was about to do. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’
‘No. Stay. Please.’
He sat back down beside her and put a hand on her knee. Felicity shut her eyes tight and tapped the button, moving the phone up to her ear. Then hastily took it away again and pressed the big red button.
‘I can’t bloody do it.’
‘You can.’
‘What if he answers?’
‘That’s kind of the point of a phone.’
‘Dammit,’ said Felicity, heart thumping big style now.
She tapped the green button twice and it picked up the last call. Felicity held the phone against her ear and prayed, but she wasn’t sure if she was praying for him to answer or praying that he wouldn’t.
‘It’s ringing, shush.’ Felicity felt a bit sick.
‘I didn’t say anything,’ said James, in a stage whisper.
And then, just like that…
‘Hello?’ came a voice.
‘Hello, is that… is that Harry?’
‘Felicity? Is that you?’
‘Yes, yes, it’s me.’
Harry let out a long breath. ‘Oh, thank God. It’s you.’
