Page 31 of The Day After Christmas
‘I was thinking more criminal activity, actually,’ she said with a chuckle.
Harry pretended to clutch his chest. ‘Ouch. That hurts. No nothing like that either.’
‘What then?’
‘Well, let’s say I’m a painter and decorator by trade.’
A fractured memory of a shabby front door resurfaced. There had been an argument. Her mother storming off. Red painteverywhere. Felicity screwed up her eyes to try and grasp more of the memory but it was just out of reach.
‘You weren’t doing that when we were little, were you?’
Harry’s brows knitted together at that.
‘No, I was a sales rep back then. I retrained about ten years ago. I enjoy it. It’s a bit dull at times, fair enough, but it pays… well, some of the bills at least. This second divorce might bankrupt me though.’
Felicity could feel her palms prickling with sweat.
‘You said she’s a soon-to-be ex-wife? Do you still live together? I’m so sorry it hasn’t worked out.’
Harry hung his head. ‘Got what I deserved, didn’t I? Eileen, her name is. She was a stunner when I met her but she turned out to be an absolute shrew.’
‘D… I mean, Harry. That’s a terrible thing to say.’
Harry turned to look at her, his eyes sparkling. ‘Did you nearly call me Dad just then?’
Felicity huffed an awkward laugh. ‘It just slipped out. Don’t get used to it.’
‘I liked it,’ said Harry.
They smiled at each other for a moment or two. Felicity was the first to look away.
‘I have to ask. Did you become a decorator because of the door?’
Her father’s eyes grew wide. ‘You remember The Door? You must have been just a nipper then.’
‘That explains why I don’t remember much. But I do remember the red paint.’
‘Your mother,’ said Harry, by way of explanation, sighing a little at the mention of her. ‘That’s right, your mother wanted a red front door and I made a total hash of it. She was furious with me for some reason.’
‘I remember that much.’
‘She was always very passionate about everything. She could convince anyone to do anything she wanted. And she wanted a lot of things. The moon on a stick and the sun too. It was frustrating at times but also exhilarating.’
‘And from that one row, you thought you’d change career?’
‘I told you, she could have sold ice to Iceland, that one. We rowed a lot but we always made up.’
‘Gross,’ said Felicity, with a grin.
‘Not like that. I mean, a little bit like that but there was so much more to her.’
‘I wish I’d known more of her, you know, what she was like before… you left?’
‘I hardly dare ask what she was like afterwards,’ he said, almost under his breath. Felicity had to lean in to hear him. ‘I mean, I know things weren’t good, I know that of course, but you were there. You saw it.’
She hadn’t been prepared to talk about her mother yet. Tears sprang to her eyes.
‘She was… damaged,’ she said simply.
