Page 6 of Kicks
Crystal bounced the ball off her knee.
“What are you going to do?” she asked. “You can’t stay in the shop the whole time it’s open.”
That was the question he had been rolling around in his head for over a week. Ever since he’d made the decision to give Jack his notice. Unfortunately, there was only one solution that he could come up with.
“I’m going to call Harry.”
Crystal stopped playing with the ball and stared. “Harry, Harry?”
“Yes, Harry our brother. How many Harrys do you know?”
She had every right to be shocked. They had hardly been The Waltons over the last few years.
“Okay, Mr Touchy.”
“Sorry, love,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I’m bloody dreading it.”
She got up. “Sounds like you need an ice cream.”
He grinned and struggled to his feet. “I think you could be right.”
Crystal made a big deal of helping him up.
“You’re bulking out,” she said. “Perhaps an apple would be better.”
He swatted her over the head playfully. “You know what, if you weren’t going to be a famous footballer one day, I’d throw you out on your ear.”
She cuddled into the side of him. “Even if Harry does the right thing and helps out, you’ll still be my favourite brother.”
He put his arm around her shoulder.
“I suppose I’m paying for ice cream then.”
“Correct. I’m just a child.”
She was a child when it suited her. If he had a pound for every conversation that had started with “I’m nearly an adult…” he wouldn’t have any issues paying for ice creams.
They walked along the path. It was early evening but Brighton was having the best summer in years. It was like being overseas.
“Are you nervous?” she asked. “Calling Harry?”
“Not nervous,” he replied. “It feels like I’ve failed.”
“Don’t be daft. You inherited a failing business and me. It’s a lot.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You aren’t a lot, my darling. You’re a joy.”
They wandered in silence. The park was pretty busy.
“Okay, yes,” he said. “I am a bit scared.”
“I get it,” she replied. “You know he’s not going to help, right?”
Billy chuckled.
Oh to be as wise as a fifteen-year-old.
“Yes, I’m fully aware of it. But he can’t whine when things go completely tits-up can he?”
