Page 75 of The Day After Christmas
She knew she should be happy for Andrea, she had dated a lot of men since Felicity had known her and she had never ever seen her like this before. If she was happy, if she was in love with Harry, who was Felicity to stand in their way? It wasn’t like she even had any kind of father-daughter relationship with him.
So why did she feel so peculiar?
Perhaps it was jealousy. Perhaps seeing Andrea and Harry bonding when it was meant to be Felicity and Harry bonding (though not in exactly the same way – ew) was making her jealous? She thought about this for a few minutes and then dismissed it. No. That wasn’t it. She was pleased they had met, if anything. Deep down, anyway. Andrea was the closest thing she had to a mother figure in her life and Lord knows the mother she was born with had been anything but motherly, or even vaguely competent, for most of Felicity’s life.
So why, then, was her stomach in knots at the thought of Harry and Andrea together?
She racked her brain, humming along to “Birdhouse in Your Soul” on the radio as she did so, and wondering for the umpteenth time how a song about a nightlight shaped like a canary could be quite so damn catchy.
And then it hit her.
The impending doom was Harry himself.
Felicity may not have seen him for years but he had run away on Boxing Day and moved in with another woman when Felicity was just six years old. Jocelyn had been cheating on him, fairenough, but Harry had still betrayed their trust and left them completely bereft, just when they really needed a father. Felicity couldn’t help but feel he was only going to let her down again at some point. Once an abandoner, always an abandoner, right? It was the reason she was only letting him get so close right now. That revelation made her gasp. She had been holding him off. Not letting him hug her and not sharing too much of her own life with him. Even as an adult her subconscious was protecting her from getting too close. She knew he still had the ability to hurt her deeply if she let him.
What if he did the same to Andrea? How could she sit by and let dear Andrea get hurt?
And then it hit her square between the eyes. She was a terrible friend. She was already letting exactly the same happen to Bex.
I have to do something,she told herself, as she pulled her crappy old car into the driveway next to James’s fancy red Mustang and his “save the planet” electric number.I have to protect both of them from making terrible mistakes.
But how?
And was she too late to save either of them?
CHAPTER 37
Felicity was running out of time.
The big day was practically here and she still hadn’t decided what to do about Bex, or how to do it. In a little over twenty-four hours her best friend would be getting married to the same man who had broken her heart multiple times. And at this rate, Felicity was going to let it happen. What kind of friend did that make her?
To make matters a million times worse, Felicity was the damn chief bridesmaid, which meant everyone she knew would be watching proceedings with an extra layer of interest. Hoping for a bit of drama. A touch of gossip to take back to their dull little lives. Ironic, really, given that less than two years ago Felicity’s life had been the dullest of all. And although she wouldn’t (really) have swapped it, at this moment she wanted to crawl back under the covers and sleep until Monday. She lay for a moment staring at the ceiling and then, finally and with a monumental effort, she dragged her reluctant body out of bed and down the stairs. Her phone was already buzzing with an endless stream of WhatsApp messages so Felicity threw it into the cutlery drawer, dumped some biscuits into the cats’ bowls and then sat at the kitchen table clutching a mug of hot teaand trying to put her thoughts in some kind of order while they munched noisily beside her.
Everything was organised, of course, because Sophie existed, and right at this moment Felicity could not have been more grateful for that fact. Her friend had somehow known that this would all be too much to contemplate and had quietly and discreetly taken on most of the maid of honour duties, something Felicity would merrily spend the rest of her life thanking her for. What she wasn’t so thankful for, was the fact that they were due to leave shortly for an Airbnb for the night before, a pretty former mill-house by a river just a few minutes from the venue, which was a converted barn with beautiful high-beamed ceilings and an overwhelming aroma of – what did Bridget Jones call them? – “smug marrieds” around every corner.
And before the horrors of the wedding there was the Getting Ready. In other words, spending a miserable Friday with all the other bridesmaids she still hardly knew, Sophie (thank God) and Bex. All Felicity had to do was pack a bag and get in the car and head to the house they’d rented for the weekend for the girls to get ready in, but as she sat there that morning, the silence of the house surrounding her, her gorgeous James asleep two floors above her, the prospect was almost crippling. She very nearly rang her therapist but she knew Hattie wouldn’t thank her for a phone call at 6.47am and besides, there wasn’t time. This one she was going to have to handle on her own.
This time on Sunday,she repeated over and over like a mantra,this time on Sunday it’ll all be over. Either you will have told Bex not to marry Adam or you will have watched her marry your ex and doom herself to a life of unhappiness.
What would Felicity’s world look like then?
‘Darling Felicity,’ said Bex, throwing her arms around her neck as soon as she arrived, still bleary-eyed from the early start. Felicity gave her back a cursory pat.
‘It’s nearly time, how are you feeling?’
Bex waved a hand. ‘Fine, just fine. I’m fine.’
Felicity raised her eyebrows. ‘Erm. Are you sure about that?’
Her friend’s face crumpled just a little. ‘Yes… I think so.’
‘Do you need a chat?’Why did I say that?‘I mean, if not with me then I can find someone I’m sure…’Or that?
Bex put her head on one side, her lips drawn into a perfect pout. ‘No, actually, you’ll be perfect.’
‘Okay…’ said Felicity, although this was very much not okay.
They nestled into an alcove in the capacious Airbnb lounge which meant their knees were touching and Felicity didn’t know where to put her eyes. She ended up focusing on the bookshelf on the opposite wall – it had a ladder and everything! – just so she didn’t have to really look Bex in the eye from this acute angle. She remembered something funny she’d seen online, pointing out that Beauty would have actually happily slept with the Beast in his beast form just to get a library with a ladder. Felicity loved books. She loved libraries with ladders too. But maybe not quite that much.
