Page 65 of The Day After Christmas
Felicity giggled. ‘That’s right, it wasn’t completely empty. There was a donkey in the kitchen.’
‘You’re joking.’
‘I’m serious. We named her Jessica after one James had as a kid.’
‘Jessica?’ snorted Tristan. ‘I hate this trend for giving animals human names.’
‘How did you ever come by a house like that?’ said Felicity, ignoring her brother and turning to look at Harry. ‘It’s incredible.’
Harry’s brow furrowed, and he took a long while to answer. The pause was just beginning to get awkwardly, embarrassingly long when he began to speak.
‘It was my mother’s,’ he said. ‘Jean, her name was. She was born and bred on Guernsey and she always used to tell me that house had been passed down through generations. Over centuries, even, I think. Unfortunately, at some point in the dim and distant past a relative had a few gambling-related issues shall we say? I really don’t know how this was allowed to happen but a loan was taken out against it, and the payments were really high. The day we had to give it up was the greatest shame of my life. And it was all my fault…’
‘What is it with people mortgaging their properties to the hilt?’ said Felicity, lightly.
But Harry cringed into the sofa and Tristan patted his arm, looking ever so slightly awkward for the first time.
So, he does have feelings.
Harry’s voice cracked as he spoke again. ‘If I’d only stayed. That Christmas, I mean. If I could have stayed for a bit longer we might have found a way to make it work. We might have all stayed together. We might still have that amazing house.’
Felicity nodded but she couldn’t speak. She was having another memory flash. A familiar one, this time, but it still stung like a bitch. Felicity’s father standing up from the dinner table and walking out the door. On Boxing Day of all days. Felicity’s heart went crunch in her chest, as a whole flood of memories hit her like a train. Tears sprang to her eyes as James reached for her hand.
‘Don’t be silly…’ said Tristan, half-heartedly. ‘I would never have met Pete if we’d stayed on the island and Felicity would never have met her, er, Penguin Man here,’ he said, flashing James his best smile.
James grinned. ‘That’s me,’ he said proudly.
‘And I’d never have acquired all my deep-rooted trust issues, so there’s that,’ said Felicity. It came out more sharply than she had intended, and Harry winced.
‘You’re not even joking, are you?’ he said, softly.
‘Nope. I’ve never managed to trust anyone since. Poor James here is rather long-suffering, shall we say? There’s nothing quite like your father walking out on you to shift your faith in humanity somewhat.’
Harry was staring at the floor. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I honestly thought you’d be better off without me.’
‘We really weren’t. But, Harry…’ said Felicity, her own voice breaking. ‘We’re not stupid. We know why you left.’
Harry let out a low wail. ‘It doesn’t matter, does it? I abandoned my beautiful children. How could anyone do that?’ He put his head in his hands.
‘It wasn’t… well, I mean, you had your reasons, didn’t you? It’s still really crap, don’t get me wrong. And to not be in touch after all these years, that’s beyond shit. That’s like inexcusable in every sense. But we sort of understand, I suppose you could say. Some of it, at least.’
She exchanged a look with Tristan. There was a moment of silence. Harry raised his head and stared at her from between his fingers, brows knitted together. What colour there had been had dropped from his face.
Felicity swallowed and went on, more softly this time.
‘She was cheating on you, wasn’t she?’
‘What?’ Tristan’s turn to look like he was about to pass out.
‘How did you know that?’ Harry was practically whispering now, his face ashen.
May as well keep going.
‘She was cheating on you with that photographer, wasn’t she? I actually arranged to meet him the first time I went over there, last year. He’s still on the island.’
‘You did what?’ Harry was angry now.
Backtrack, backtrack, backtrack.
