Page 23 of Happier Days (Family Life in Somerley #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

On Sunday morning, Jack was supposed to be working but he was staring across the lake, daydreaming. He came back to earth to see his laptop open at a blank page. He sighed, closing the lid. He might as well face it: he was going to get no work done today. All he could think about was Ava.

Ever since he’d dropped her off at the station, she was consuming his every thought. The banter they’d had on the phone had made him miss her even more. What was going on? She’d been here for less than a week.

They had so much to talk about, reminiscing about their younger days and catching up with what they’d been up to in the following years. They’d covered some of it, but he couldn’t wait to talk about the rest.

It was good to get everything out in the open about Dan and Katrina’s affair, too. He’d kept the hurt deep inside. Maybe now it would find itself redundant. Because he hadn’t laughed so much in a long time.

He glanced at his watch; there were seven more hours until he would collect Ava from the station. What on earth was he going to do with himself until then?

His phone rang, and he reached for it eagerly. But it wasn’t Ava. It was his daughter, wanting to FaceTime. He took the call.

‘Hey, gorgeous,’ he said. ‘What’s up?’

‘What do you mean? Can’t a daughter ring her dad without any reason? And stop calling me gorgeous!’

‘But you are.’ He couldn’t help teasing her. ‘Anyway, how are you?’

‘I’m good, thanks. Just checking we can still come to you this Friday?’

‘Of course. Are Tom and Maisie game, too?’

‘Yes, if you can manage all three of us.’

‘When have I ever not?’

She grinned, looking so much like her mother that it threw him for a moment. They chatted about her week, he promised to get her some goodies for after the event, and then she was gone.

Three minutes, he sighed. That was all he got nowadays.

Although it was good to see she was doing well and going out with friends, Jack missed having those three-minute chats several times each day.

The fallout of the divorce had been tough on him and Katrina, but it had been hard on Brooke, too.

That’s why he often spoiled her when he should know better.

He kept his phone in his hand, wondering whether to message Ava again. Wondering if it was too much. But then his fingers began to type.

Do you fancy going out for a bite to eat when you get back?

He waited a couple of minutes, and then his message was answered.

Sure, that would be nice. Thanks.

They made arrangements over a few more messages, and then the conversation was over. But he wanted more. He wanted to hear her voice.

He groaned loudly and got up from his chair.

‘Come on, Graham,’ he said, much to his pet’s delight. ‘Let’s go for a walk.’

Harry Healey pulled in the collar of his coat against the sharp wind that was blowing by the side of the lake.

He’d thought a walk might calm him down after getting in a tailspin back at the cottage.

His father, Trevor, had died during the night, and it was starting to hit him now that they hadn’t kept in touch.

A numbness had come over him. He was young when his mother died. Being unable to cope with the loss had been the cause of his father’s alcoholism. Frances had only been twenty-eight.

Growing up without a mother, and no grandparents, made for a different life than most of his peers.

It was the reason why he’d hung around so much with Jack and Dan, and the rest of the family.

Stella Broadhurst had treated him as if he was one of her sons, and he’d liked the attention and love that she’d showered him with.

But Trevor had got worse the older Harry became. It had been one of the reasons why he’d left home so soon after finishing school. That, and the whole debacle around stealing the money from the business account he’d had with Jack, the shame of which still haunted him to that day.

He’d been a mixed-up kid as he’d grown up, and even then, had been envious of how everything Jack Broadhurst did came out smelling of roses.

Jack had aced at school and exams, been one of the most popular boys among the girls, and when he and Harry had gone into business together, Jack was the one who had made it successful. If it wasn’t for him, there would have been no money in the business account.

After one particular row with Trevor that ended up in another brawl, Harry had decided to leave. He’d planned to go that weekend, but the next day, after a further argument narrowly missed being a proper fist fight, he’d seen red and left with all the money he could find.

He’d gone to Birmingham, found work on a building site, and settled in King’s Heath, the place he’d called home until now.

With two failed marriages behind him, he was lucky not to turn to drink, too. But he’d lived through the pain of seeing his father fall apart because of it, so he couldn’t do that to himself. Luckily, he kept away from drugs, too, but he had a temper that was often hard to control.

A figure appeared up ahead on the path, a large dog on a lead. Harry cursed when he spotted it was Jack. He was the last person he wanted to see right now.

They drew level, and he nodded.

‘How are you, Harry?’ Jack stopped to ask. ‘Long time no see.’

‘Not long enough for you, I expect.’

There was a pause.

‘I’m sorry to hear about Trevor,’ Jack said then.

‘He… he died this morning.’

‘Ah, man. That sucks. Are you okay? Got family here with you, or to rush back to?’

Harry shook his head, annoyed that it looked as if no one cared about him. No one did, but he didn’t want Jack to know that.

‘I’m sorry about Dan,’ he said, finding his manners.

‘Thanks. It was a shock, such a senseless accident, slipping in the snow.’

‘He was always good to me. You both were.’

Their words went unspoken. Too much water under the bridge but a mutual respect to keep things calm.

‘I’d best be on my way,’ Harry said. ‘Things to do.’

‘If you need any help, you only have to say.’

‘I can manage,’ he said quickly. ‘Thanks, though.’

‘When is the date for the funeral? I’d like to come if you wouldn’t mind.’

‘Of course not. I’d appreciate that. It’s a week on Thursday. Half past ten at Somerley Church and then on to the cemetery.’

‘Thanks, I’ll be there. Take care of yourself, yeah?’

Harry gave a faint smile, and they went their separate ways.

He arrived back at his childhood home ten minutes later.

The heating was on minimal, but he decided to make a fire.

Once he’d done that, he sat down with a beer and thought about what to do now with his life.

He wouldn’t stay here, he was sure of that.

The estate agent was coming to value the house in a couple of weeks.

He’d wanted to give himself some time to get the funeral out of the way and decide where he was going next.

His latest job in Birmingham had been due to end this month anyway, and he would have to find new digs as well as another contract.

So staying here until he got something else would be fine.

Then he might be able to rent a better flat.

That was one good thing about coming home. He was tired of living in single digs only fit for a man in his twenties who was earning money through working long hours.

It was time to evaluate his life, what he wanted from it. Or rather what he could change about it now after making a hash of it all.