‘Sit with me.’ He patted the chair next to him.
‘I haven’t finished tidying up,’ she protested, gesturing around the kitchen. ‘There’ll be another round of washing up any minute.’
‘Someone else can pitch in. You’ve done more than enough for one night,’ he countered, using her own words against her.
‘Ha ha.’ She did at least slide into the seat beside him. Kat stared at him, her chin propped on one hand. It was as if she was trying to puzzle something out about him. ‘I’m surprised you’d want to cook again given how busy it must’ve been in the restaurant.’
Harry paused with his fork halfway to his mouth and gave a tiny shrug. ‘People need to eat. I’m the best cook here and Mum’s already worked really hard putting everything together for tonight.’
‘I used to think you were so different to Rick, but you’re just as much of a caretaker in your own way as he is.’
Her comment took him aback. The last person Harry would compare himself to was his sensible, reliable, dependable older brother. When he’d been younger, Harry had resented all thosethings that made up the core of his brother’s character, but with time had come understanding. Rick had been all of those things because he’d felt he had to be, especially after Liam had gone off to boarding school. Rick had stepped up, tried to alleviate the pressure on their parents, who were working full time to provide for the family, and act as buffer between them and the worst of the nonsense Harry and Ed had got up to. When Harry had been sent to live with Ma and Pa and it felt like everyone else had no time for anyone other than Ed, it had been Rick who’d kept an eye on Harry and done his best to stop him careening completely off the rails. Rick was one of Harry’s favourite people in all the world and being compared to him was just about the greatest compliment Kat could’ve given him. ‘I like to cook and people like to eat what I cook. Seeing them happy makes me happy.’
‘I’m so glad you’ve found your happy place, Harry. It looks good on you.’ Kat’s smile as she looked up at him was full of such warmth and understanding that he wanted to take a photo of it so he could keep it safe and take it out if he ever doubted himself.
This close there was no missing those shadows beneath her eyes, though. ‘What about you? What’s your happy place?’
‘Books.’ The word came without hesitation.
‘Books? What’s so special about them?’ Books were Harry’s nemesis, an unfathomable jumble of letters and words, a locked-room puzzle that everyone else had the key for except him.
Her eyes widened as though amazed he even had to ask, then immediately softened. ‘I can understand why you might feel differently, but books and stories mean everything to me. They’ve always been an escape, a gateway into a million different worlds! I can be anyone I want to be inside the cover of a book! Live anywhere, do anything. I can sail the high seas on a pirate galleon, explore new galaxies on board a spaceship, be a secret agent, a detective, a high-flying executive, a fashion model, a president, a princess.’
‘Okay, okay, I get it!’ Harry held his hands up in mock surrender. Her passion was infectious and he found himself wishing – not for the first time – that he could experience even a tenth of what she was describing. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised because whenever he pictured Kat in their younger days she always had her nose in a book. Busy as she was, she still found time to volunteer at the lending library at the community hub attached to Issy’s café.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to get on my high horse,’ she said and he didn’t miss the slight embarrassment in the laugh that followed, nor the flush on her cheek.
‘Don’t be sorry, I love hearing you talk about it,’ he replied, earnestly. ‘It’s just…’ He shrugged a shoulder, feeling a touch of embarrassment himself. ‘Well, you know what I was like at school.’
Kat leaned closer, her eyes full of sympathy. ‘It’s not your fault you have dyslexia, Harry.’
He knew it was true and yet there was always a stab of something bitter whenever the word was said out loud. When he’d finally got the extra support he needed, his teachers had been at pains to stress that he wasn’t at fault, but it hadn’t stopped him feeling faulty. Since he’d been old enough to comprehend such things people had always told him and Ed how alike they were – peas in a pod, inseparable, indistinguishable from each other. Harry loved Ed more than anyone else in the world because he was a part of him in a way no other human being could be. They should’ve been the same in all things, but somehow the wiring in Harry’s brain had got screwed up. Learning they weren’t the same, that Ed would leave him behind and live a very different life to him, had been very scary to him as a kid. Part of the frustration he felt with Ed now was seeing all that potential put at risk because his twin had a self-destructive streak. How to explain all of that to Kat, though? Asan only child she couldn’t possibly understand the conflicts and joys that came of growing up with siblings, never mind a twin bond. Ed was his best friend, his greatest strength, his biggest vulnerability all in one. He looked at her, remembered what she’d said about books being an escape. It didn’t take a genius to figure out things at home hadn’t been good for her growing up. An overwhelming surge of sadness washed over him; whatever ups and downs he had with his brothers, he knew they would always have his back. Just as Harry would always have theirs. Who did Kat have to lean on when things got tough? The answer came immediately.Me. She has me.
Would she want him, though, when they were so different?
10
Kat realised almost at once that mentioning Harry’s dyslexia had been a mistake. When she’d found out about it while they were still at school, it had explained so much and she’d had nothing but sympathy for him. Not that she’d have dreamed of speaking to him about it at the time. When he’d been allowed back into school after his suspension, he’d been transferred into the special assistance programme and she’d understood enough about male teenage pride to see he was embarrassed about it. In fact this might be the first time she’d ever even mentioned it to him. He’d made such a success of his life and found his true calling, all while having to overcome a huge challenge, and she was full of admiration – and perhaps a touch of envy at his success. Still, it didn’t take a body language expert to tell her his suddenly stiff posture and the way his eyes were fixed on his empty bowl meant that she’d made a misstep. ‘I’m sorry, Harry, I shouldn’t have said anything.’
‘It’s fine,’ he said, pushing his chair back and picking up his bowl and fork. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
She watched him carry his things over to the sink where Issy and Liam were finishing the clearing up. Liam made a big fussover having just emptied the hot water out of the sink, but it was obvious he was just teasing his brother in the way they so often did. Harry seemed all smiles and ready banter – maybe he really was fine and she was reading too much into the situation.
Not like you at all, Kat.
When Harry reclaimed the seat next to her there was no sign of anything troubling him; it seemed she really had been over-complicating things in her own mind. ‘The plan seems to be to head down to the seafront to watch the fireworks over Port Petroc, what do you reckon?’ he asked her.
Port Petroc was the largest town in the area and they always put on a good display that could be seen for miles around. There’d be a few people in the village who’d launch some too, so the seafront would offer the best vantage point.
‘Sounds good to me. It’s nearly halfway home for me as well so that’s a bonus.’
‘It’ll be all the way home for you soon enough,’ he said, giving her arm a gentle nudge with his.
‘Oh, good point!’ she replied with a laugh. Kat couldn’t help the little bubble of excitement in her belly at the thought. One of the things she loved about sharing Issy’s flat was its proximity to the beach. Not that anywhere in Halfmoon Quay was very far from the water, but the luxury of just being able to open the door and practically walk out on to the sand or follow the path up into the quiet peace of the dunes was something she’d grown used to in the few weeks she’d been there. Moving in with Harry meant she wouldn’t have to give that up.
She checked the clock on the wall; it was coming up to eleven-thirty. ‘What time are we heading off?’
Harry shrugged and turned in his chair to call over to Liam. ‘When are we making a move?’
