Page 41 of Only for Christmas

‘Oh, right. Well, that’s where I took her.’

He thought back to how a few years before, Harper would have loved being taken to a fancy restaurant. She’d have dressed up and ordered something exotic from the menu. But last night she’d looked sullen and pale. She was distracted, and hadn’t eaten much; she’d just pushed her food around the plate.

Sarah was watching him. ‘I’m guessing it wasn’t great?’

‘The food was fine, but my sister wasn’t.’ He pushed his empty plate away. ‘She’s so angry. I try changing the subject, but the conversation keeps coming back to Paul and how she wants him… how can I put this?’

‘Dead?’ Sarah took a sip of wine.

He blinked at her nonchalance. ‘How did you know?’

‘It’s a common phase,’ she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. ‘Step five, or something, in the break-up process. Rage. Anger. The desire to dismember the person with a blunt shovel. Been there, got the T-shirt.’

‘You’re telling me this is normal?’

‘Absolutely.’ She took a slug of wine. ‘Haven’t you ever felt that way?’

‘Never.’

‘Then lucky you. I can tell you from experience it’s not pleasant. Especially if you’re not normally a violent person. Having murderous thoughts can be quite unsettling.’

He rubbed his forehead, wondering about his own romantic history. He’d never felt that crushed. That enraged. Hurt, sure. Sad and heartbroken, but never so mad that he’d want to commit homicide. If that’s what love did to you, had he ever really been in love? He would have said so, but now he wasn’t so sure. ‘So how do I get her over it?’

‘You don’t. She needs to work through it in her own time. She won’t always feel this angry. Has she been through self-loathing yet? Endless crying? Denial? Destruction of property? That was my least favourite. I cut up an entire wardrobe of clothes in less than an hour. It only occurred to me afterwards that all I was left with were the pyjamas I was standing up in.’ She lifted her glass and took another mouthful. ‘This is fabulous wine, by the way.’

‘I’m glad you like it. Want some more?’

‘Better not, work tomorrow. I’m already feeling a bit squiffy.’ She got up and carried her tray through to the kitchen. ‘Thanks for dinner. Want a hand washing up?’

‘I have a dishwasher.’

‘Ooh, fancy you, Mr Mod-Cons. I only have a sink.’

He placed his tray next to hers on the countertop. ‘Is Harper safe to be left alone, do you think?’

Sarah turned to him. ‘Better to let her rage. The quicker it’s done with the better. Did you enjoy your tagine?’

‘I did, until I discovered my sister’s murderous intentions are perfectly normal. I may have indigestion now.’

Sarah hesitated, as if she was uncertain about voicing something. ‘Would you like me to talk to her? I’ve been where she is. Maybe I can help. Or at least empathise.’

‘Seriously?’ Lucas barked a laugh. ‘You’ve hardly come through it unscathed. You’re the most messed-up person I’ve ever met.’

Her face fell. ‘Well, that told me.’

He instantly felt bad. ‘Aw, shit. Sorry, Sarah. I didn’t mean that.’

‘Yes, you did. And it was a fair comment.’ She tried to smile, but he could see it was an effort. ‘Who am I to give advice when I can’t even accept the kindness of a nice American man without suspecting him of trying to seduce me? I should sort my own life out first, right? Better go,’ she said, heading for the door. ‘Come on, Fred. Time to go home.’

‘Sarah… wait.’ He followed her into the hallway. ‘I didn’t mean it like it sounded.’

‘It’s fine, really. No harm done.’ She gave a quick wave without turning back. ‘Night, Lucas. Dinner was lovely. Thanks so much.’

She disappeared up the stairs with Fred trotting behind her.

Lucas slumped against the doorframe, feeling like a complete shit. So much for making gains with Mrs Kelsey; he’d blown it with Sarah. And she was the last person he’d ever want to hurt.

He was such a fool.

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