‘You too.’
Bertie was sound asleep when I crept into our bedroom. His snuffles and snores made me smile, and I pulled his covers up to his chin, running a hand across his thick hair. After all Rob and I had put him through recently, it was an enormous relief to know things were looking brighter. And with Seb by my side, I felt I could face anything. Things were on the up, and it was about time too.
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Harry, happy birthday to you.’
As Bertie walked into the dining room carrying his home-made cake, Harry burst into tears. Bertie laid the cake down in front of her and wrapped his arms around her neck.
‘I’m sorry for making you cry.’
Harry laughed, brushed her tears away and kissed Bertie’s cheek. ‘These are happy tears, Bertie, not sad ones.’
‘You cry when you’re happy?’
‘Yes,’ said Harry, ‘all the time.’
‘Weird.’
Harry laughed again and blew out her candles to cheers from her friends.
‘Can we do presents now?’ asked Bertie, impatient to get to what he considered the most important part of the celebrations.
‘Go on then. Who’s going to go first?’
‘Me,’ said Bertie. He took a parcel wrapped in tissue paper from my bag and handed it to Harry. ‘I made it myself.’
‘You did?’
Bertie nodded, pushing back his shoulders and puffing his chest out in pride. Harry carefully peeled back pink tissue paper to reveal a misshapen clay pot with primary-coloured flowers painted around its sides.
‘Wow, I love it!’
‘Mrs Grange said these pots can be used for all sorts of tat.’
‘She said that?’ asked Harry, trying not to chuckle.
‘Yes, well, actually she said crap, but then changed it to tat, thinking we hadn’t noticed, but we all did. There’s a hole in the bottom so you can’t use it for cereal.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
‘Shall I go next?’ I asked. Harry nodded, and I pulled a squishy parcel from my bag, wrapped in the same pink tissue paper as Bertie’s.
When Harry opened the knitting set with extra large needles and unusually thick wool, she grinned. ‘Are you trying to tell me something about my knitting skills?’
‘No, but I thought thicker wool might help disguise some holes.’
Harry reached across and gave a good-natured punch on my arm.
‘There’s something else in there,’ I said, helping Harry find a small package hidden among the tissue paper. Harry unwrapped two delicate silver earrings shaped like a woman about to dive into the water. ‘I couldn’t find any naked swimmers,’ I said as she hugged me.
Pat gave Harry a beautiful hard-back copy ofPersuasion, its pink-fabric cover home to an intricate gold-leaf design. Stephan handed over a bottle of expensive wine, and Maggie produced a shoebox filled with treats ranging from dark chocolate to scented candles. ‘To give you a chance to look after yourself,’ Maggie explained.
Despite leaving two weeks previously, Elaine and Christine had left a package for Harry containing more wine, a book about walking the coast path, and a guide to Cornish wild swimming spots.
‘My turn,’ said Seb. He left the room and returned with a large square object.
Harry opened Seb’s package to reveal a beautiful oil painting of the lake. The artist had captured the multitude of greens and the way the light hit the water perfectly.
