Page 66 of The Day After Christmas
‘Erm… forget I said anything.’
Felicity could feel her ears heating up.
‘Well, you’ll bloody have to now, girl,’ said Harry, with feeling.
Dammit. Just say it quick.
‘Bisson. I met him. He’s married now. He lives down the road from Le Manoir. He’s got a lovely dog that likes Fanta.’
Tristan was looking from one to the other, his eyebrows drawn together at the top of his nose. Felicity remembered that look from when they were young. ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘but you’regoing to have to explain what the hell you are talking about. Did you say Fanta? As in, the drink?’
Felicity shrugged. ‘It was Mum. There was a guy Mum was cheating on Harry with… oof, hold on… I’ll show you.’
Felicity uncurled from the armchair and went to the bedroom to collect the old newspaper clipping she had been given which showed a garden party at their childhood home. Tristan was still burbling on about fizzy drinks in the space behind her. When she came back, the burbling had stopped and Tristan and her dad were both staring into space, each one looking like they needed a stiff drink.
‘I think I have some brandy somewhere, if you need it,’ she said, handing them the clipping. ‘Take a look at this.’
Tristan stared at the photo and let out a kind of high-pitched squeak at the sight of The House in all its glory. Harry, however, was completely silent, his finger running over the picture of Felicity’s mother there, right in the centre of the image, as if he was somehow trying to bring her back to life.
When Felicity finally got to the end of telling them all about her trip, these two strangers-who-were-no-longer-strangers stared at her as if she was an alien from outer space.
‘Please say something.’
No response.
‘Harry? Are you okay?’ said James.
Harry shook himself out of his trance. ‘I need a drink.’
Tristan rolled his eyes. ‘You don’t drink anymore, remember?’
‘I’m beginning to regret that decision.’
‘It was for good reason.’
‘Still.’
It wasn’t your average Saturday evening, that was for sure.
When they finally left, Felicity stared out of her window after them in a daze, James with a comforting arm draped around her shoulder. Her father and her brother, lit up by a single street lamp, jostling and chatting as they got into Tristan’s car. Tristan was firing questions at Harry nineteen to the dozen, and Felicity couldn’t help wondering if this was maybe what a proper, “normal” family felt like. At least, as “normal” as theirs could ever be. She didn’t have many childhood memories that were worth keeping but for the first time in so many years she had blood relatives around her who she didn’t either entirely hate or want to escape at the first opportunity. Who, on occasion, she actually quite liked.
Was this how other people felt about their families? A weird mixture of irritation and love? It was a strange but not entirely unpleasant thought.
CHAPTER 32
The next morning, Felicity woke up to a text from Harry. He wasn’t sure about the whole signing thing. Felicity refused to panic. As soon as she got into work she went straight to see Andrea.
‘Absolutely not,’ said Andrea, when Felicity had explained exactly how much she needed Harry to be there that day. Though notwhy, exactly. Besides, surely he’d told her about his alter ego by now.
‘Oh, come on now. Don’t be like that. You know you’re the best person to ask him. You haveinfluence.’ Was there a hint of a flush on Andrea’s cheeks at that?
‘I am not asking him anything of the kind. You want him at this open day of yours, ask him yourself.’
‘I have, but he needs to hear it from you. He just needs to know how much this means to you.’
‘You know I’m not good at all that emotional stuff,’ said Andrea.
‘So, you’re not denying you have influence then.’
