Page 15 of The Day After Christmas
‘Now look here, son, this is a private conversation.’
‘It’s only private if Felicity says it is,’ said Charlie, fists clenched, his face darkening.
Both men turned to look at her then and Felicity felt like she was having an out-of-body experience. She shifted in her seat.This is insane.
‘It is private, but you can stay, Charlie. This gentleman was just leaving.’
‘Is this your boyfriend or something?’ said Harry, eyebrows raised.
‘That is none of your business. But no. He’s just a friend. A colleague, really.’
‘Er, rude,’ muttered Charlie under his breath.
Felicity stood up, hoping her father would take the hint. He took his time, but eventually, slowly, he got to his feet.
‘How about that coffee then?’ he said, ignoring Charlie, who had drawn himself up to his full height in the doorway (all five feet seven inches of him) as if preparing for gladiatorial combat.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘You’re serious?’
‘We have nothing to say to each other.’
‘I beg to differ.’
To his credit, Harry sounded a bit choked up. His dark eyes were wide and he had such an earnest expression on his face that she knew any normal human being would be conjuring up some form of feelings, like empathy or something, right now – but all she had was mild irritation.I must be made of stone.
She searched her feelings, but there were none forthcoming. She just felt numb, basically. Was she disassociating right now? Was that it? Was she going to come to her senses halfway down the motorway hard shoulder or something? This was all a bit surreal.
‘Honestly, I just can’t cope with this right now. Please go.’
Her father’s face sagged. He suddenly looked exhausted. ‘Felicity. Sweetheart. Please give me a chance.’
‘No thank you,’ said Felicity, and cringed at how childish she sounded. ‘Thanks for stopping by.’
Now go.
She watched him leave, her body numb, her mind a blank.
‘Who was that guy?’
Felicity edged past Charlie and headed for the toilets, ignoring his question. She locked herself in a cubicle and tried to slow her breathing to something like a normal rate. There were still no tears, which was weird. She had expected tears.I mean, you would, wouldn’t you? You would cry if your estranged father had turned up at your work out of the blue? Most people would.
But no. There were no tears. Not a single one. In fact, her eyes were dry and tight as if she’d forgotten to blink for several hours. Her chest was tight too, and her breathing was shallow and rapid.
You need to calm down,she told herself but it didn’t help. Herself wouldn’t listen.
Someone tapped tentatively on the cubicle door.
‘Felicity? Are you okay?’
It was Andrea.
‘Charlie said some guy came by and… he’s worried about you.’
‘I’m fine…’
‘Why are you hiding in the toilets then?’
