Page 17 of The Day After Christmas
Her father hadn’t told her anything about himself. She hadn’t given him the chance. She didn’t know where he lived or anything about him. She had no way of contacting him even if she wanted to. Felicity chewed a fingernail for a moment or two. It would have to be by text, she knew that. Her brother never ever answered a ringing phone. She reached over to grab her phone from the side table, nearly knocking her enormous to-be-read pile onto the floor in the process. Bobby leapt up and jumped off the bed, indignant.
Felicity: Hey you
Tristan: Hey yourself
Felicity: How’s things?
Tristan: How are things? I think you mean.
Felicity: Why are you such an arse?
Tristan: It’s part of my charm.
Felicity: Doubtful. Anyway, I have some news and I think we need to meet.
Tristan: Is it about Dad?
Felicity: Yes. How did you know that?
Tristan: He told me he was going to come and see you.
Felicity: And you didn’t think to mention it? Warn me maybe?
Tristan: I’ve been busy, darling. Premieres to go to. People to see.
Felicity: Arses to kiss.
Tristan: Very much so.
Felicity: So, here’s the thing.
Tristan: Go on.
Felicity: I kind of sent him packing.
Tristan: I know. He told me. Harsh, Fliss.
Felicity: And I didn’t even take his number.
Tristan: Awkward.
Felicity: Yes and so I was wondering…
Tristan: If I would give it to you?
Felicity: (gritting her teeth) Yes, if it’s not too much trouble.
Tristan: It’s no trouble. Let me just ask him.
Felicity: What? Why do you need to ask him? I’m sure he won’t mind.
Tristan: Still, I’d feel better if I just checked.
Felicity: Go on then.
Tristan: I can’t now, I’m going out.
Felicity (trying to stay calm) But you’re talking to me right now.
