Page 45 of The Secret Christmas Bookshop
‘Because of the jumpers?’ Harry asked. ‘I know. Felix is a disaster of my own making, and my burden to bear.’ He was still smiling as his hand returned to Clifton’s head. Sophie wondered if he usually had Terror or Darkness by his side, if stroking them was his version of a stress ball: the warm, unconditional love of his dogs. And Felix, of course, who Sophie couldn’t think of as anything but mischievously charming.
‘What else has he done?’ Ermin asked.
‘What hasn’t he done?’ Harry started listing Felix’s misadventures, telling each story in a way that had everyone laughing, people looking over from other tables. His delivery was dry, his timing was perfect.
Sophie conjured up a list of all the things she believed about Harry Anderly: that he would be a wonderful Santa Claus; that he was denying Mistingham the pleasure of hiscompany by mostly hiding away in his spooky manor house; that she wouldn’t mind his long fingers stroking throughherhair, if things had been different; that he was warming up here too, enjoying the company; that, even if calling him had been anI’ll show everyonemoment, she was glad she’d done it.
When they’d finished laughing at a story about how Felix had got into the postman’s van when he’d been dropping off a couple of parcels, Harry had ended up chasing the van down the driveway, and they’d discovered the goat chewing through a Bravissimo catalogue, Fiona glanced at her watch and said, ‘Goodness! It’s almost last orders.’
‘Shit, seriously?’ Jason sank the last of his drink. ‘I promised Simon I’d help with clear-up tonight.’ He stood and pulled on his coat. ‘Great to catch you all. You especially, Harry.’
‘I owe you a pint,’ Harry said, and the two men shook hands.
‘Next time, then? Don’t leave it so long.’
‘I won’t,’ Harry assured him.
Fiona and Ermin said their goodbyes, and Fiona even let Harry peck her on the cheek. ‘Don’t be a stranger,’ she said and he nodded warily.
‘Good to see you, old chap.’ Ermin patted his shoulder as he walked past.
Sophie put on her coat, her arm flailing as she tried to find one of the sleeves.
‘Here.’ Harry held it for her and then pulled it gently over her shoulders. He turned her around and straightened the collar.
‘Thanks.’
‘You know, after inviting me here, you’ve been pretty quiet all evening.’
‘You kept the conversation going, though,’ she said with a smile.
‘I enjoyed myself.’ He sounded surprised. ‘Jason, Fiona and Ermin – it’s been a long time since I spoke to any of them properly.’
‘Fiona’s been quite unkind about you, though.’
Harry nodded. ‘Everyone has opinions, and a lot of people here have strong ones about me and my family, but …’ He shrugged. ‘Can I walk you home?’
‘You walked?’
‘I didn’t know how many pints I’d end up having.’
‘You have a torch?’ She raised an eyebrow, but he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a hefty looking Maglite. She laughed. ‘Of course you do.’
He opened the door for her and they stepped out into the dark, the stars like pinpricks in a blackout curtain above, the crisp, cold air stroking icy fingertips across her skin.
‘Wow.’ She tipped her head up. ‘I will never,everget over seeing this many stars. It makes you feel so small.’
‘It does,’ Harry said quietly. He was standing behind her, and when she leaned too far back to follow the line of a constellation, he put his hand gently between her shoulder blades. ‘I’ve got you,’ he whispered, and for some reason those three words clogged Sophie’s throat.
‘We should go,’ she said, standing upright. ‘It’s so cold, and you’ve got further to walk than me.’
‘Lead the way.’
Clifton trotted alongside them, and after a moment Harry held his elbow out, and Sophie slipped her arm throughhis, until she was anchored to his side. It made her feel safer, more secure, and also – perhaps because it was just the two of them now – she found it easier to speak.
‘I’m sorry about your copy ofThe Secret History.’
Harry glanced at her. ‘It’s OK. I bought another one.’
