Chapter 22
Kat watched in surprise as he bent over and rummaged in a large crate at his feet.
When he straightened up, he had a mug in his hand and moments later it was flying into the wall, its shattered pieces tumbling to join the mess of other shards on the floor.
He barely watched it smash, already leaning down to dig around in the crate again.
Fascinated, Kat hurried back into the hallway, slipped on her shoes and opened the door.
Her foot made a noise as she stepped out on to the top of the metal staircase, but Harry gave no indication he’d heard anything, all his attention fixed on the corner.
She watched as two more plates and a bowl crashed one after the other and then Harry planted his hands on his hips and drew in a breath so deep she could see his shoulders shifting up and down with the motion.
A couple more deep inhales and he turned away from the mess and walked over to where a large broom rested against the wall.
As though he was finally aware of her presence, Harry turned and looked up. ‘Oh, hi.’
Sensing his discomfort, Kat shot him a friendly smile as she began to walk down the stairs. ‘That looks like fun.’
His smile was half-amused, half-embarrassed as he watched her approach him.
‘It’s something Pa taught me when I was kid and struggling to regulate my emotions and frustrations.
There were always odds and ends of wood at the boat shed so he used to let me chop them up until I’d worked the anger out of my system.
After he retired and sold the shed I had to come up with an alternative solution, and this is it.
’ He took a step to the side and gestured towards the crate. ‘Want to try?’
She looked down into the box filled with mismatched bits of crockery then grinned back up at him. ‘You must have some very clumsy staff in the restaurant.’
He laughed and she was pleased to see his frame relax a little as he leaned his weight on the broom.
‘Most of it comes from local jumble sales and bric-a-brac stalls. I’m such a frequent shopper at school fetes that Morwenna just sets aside anything made of china for me and I make a generous donation in return. ’
Kat glanced back down at the contents of the crate. ‘So is there anything you recommend for a beginner?’
With a chuckle, Harry leaned the broom against the wall and came to crouch beside the crate. He rummaged around for a moment then handed her a large mug emblazoned with the words ‘World’s Best Husband’.
Kat turned it over in her hands, testing the weight of it.
‘I wonder how on earth this ended up in the jumble.’ Half a dozen possible scenarios started buzzing in her head; it could make a really interesting set-up for a story…
She patted the pockets of her jeans, hunting for her phone so she could send herself a message before she forgot. ‘Damn, I left my phone upstairs.’
Harry frowned up at her. ‘What do you need it for?’ When she explained, she thought he might think she was being silly, but he merely took the mug from her hands and set it to one side before selecting another one of similar size from the crate. ‘This should do the trick.’
‘Thanks.’ Kat hefted the garish floral mug in her hand. ‘So, is there any particular technique you recommend?’
Harry straightened up, the other mug cradled safely in his hands as he moved out of the line of fire. ‘What works for me is thinking about the thing that’s pissing me off the most and shoving all that frustration into my throw.’
‘Oh, well, that’s easy.’ Kat pictured her mum on New Year’s Eve, all sweaty and glowing as she went on about her latest bloody Watts Up workout.
‘Up yours, Warren,’ she muttered as she drew her arm back and flung the mug as hard as she could at the wall.
Her momentum carried her forward and she staggered, might even have fallen flat on her face if Harry hadn’t jumped forward and grabbed her.
‘Jesus, I don’t know who Warren is but I’m glad I’m not in his shoes!’ Harry said as he grinned down at her.
‘He’s my mum’s fitness instructor, and her latest crush.’ The words tumbled out before she could stop them.
Harry’s expression shifted from amused to sympathetic. ‘Your mum’s cheating on your dad? No wonder he’s always in such a bad mood.’
Kat sighed. ‘Thankfully her only interactions with this one are online, so it’s all in her head… for a change.’
Harry’s hand rubbed slow circles on her back. ‘Poor Kitty. Has this been going on for a long time?’
‘For as long as they’ve been married, I think, but it’s hard to get Dad to even talk about it.
I only found out recently he moved us all here after one of her affairs because she had fond childhood memories of coming here on holiday.
As if that would magically fix things somehow.
It all happened so abruptly, like one minute I was finishing school at the end of term and by the end of the summer holidays here we were. ’
‘I remember when you arrived. You were such a shy little thing, wouldn’t say boo to a goose.’
‘It was really hard to be separated from everything I’d known, and you all knew each other so well. If Issy and Chloe hadn’t decided to befriend me I’d have had a much harder time settling in.’
‘Yeah, once those two get an idea in their heads, there’s no stopping them.’ He reached for her hand. ‘Whatever the circumstances behind it, I’m very glad your parents brought you here to the Quay.’
She squeezed his fingers. ‘It’s the best thing that ever happened to me because of the friends I’ve made.
I just wish Mum and Dad could’ve done the same, but I guess she’s made that too difficult with her carryings-on.
’ She sighed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all this on you when you’re trying to deal with your own frustrations. ’
‘It’s fine and I’m happy to listen anytime you need to talk.’ His mouth quirked up in the corner. ‘Besides, it’s a good distraction from all that bloody paperwork upstairs.’
Kat recalled the mess on the kitchen table, the ruffled state of his hair when she’d arrived home. ‘Is it something I can help you with?’
‘Don’t worry about it for now, go on with what you were saying.’
It was strange to be so open about something she’d kept mostly to herself for so long.
The other girls knew, of course, but they’d always trusted each other with their secrets.
She’d carried the shame of her mother’s behaviour, even when she’d been too young to do anything about it.
It was her mum doing these awful things.
Cheating and lying and messing up other relationships because she had this uncontrollable need to…
what? Did she truly think it was love she was getting?
Or was it, as her dad had said, just some sick way of testing his feelings?
Whatever it was, it was an ugly thing and Kat was tired of carrying the guilt of it around like some dirty little secret.
‘The first time I was aware of it was when I was thirteen and Mum signed up for evening classes. She wanted to learn French so she could help me with my homework, or so she said. I believed her too, until I found out Mr Dudley taught at the college as well as at our school.’
‘Studley Dudley? The hottest teacher at Port Petroc High?’ Harry’s expression had turned horrified. ‘You’re not telling me…?’
Kat nodded. ‘My dad found out and reported him to the school. That’s why he left just after the Easter holidays.’
Harry shook his head as though he couldn’t believe what she was saying. ‘How have I never heard about this before?’
She laughed but it wasn’t a pretty sound. ‘It’s not exactly something I’ve wanted to boast about. Though it’s happened often enough. I reckon my mum’s behaviour is one of the worst-kept secrets in Halfmoon Quay. You know she made a pass at your Uncle Ryan once?’
Harry covered his face in his hands. ‘Oh, God! Your best friend’s dad?’ He peeked at her through his fingers. ‘Does Chloe know?’
‘She’s the one who told me, having overheard your aunt and uncle talking about it one night. That’s when I told her and the other girls about Mr Dudley. Dad had to get someone else in to finish the kitchen because your uncle refused to set foot back in our house.’
‘Kitty, I had no idea. You poor thing.’ Harry reached out and tugged her into his arms and this time she let herself surrender into the comforting heat of him.
It felt so good to be held, to know she’d been right to trust him with this ugliest of secrets.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and they stood there in silence until Harry’s lips brushed her temple in a ghost of a kiss and he released her.
He nudged the crate with his foot. ‘I’m going to need some more plates, aren’t I? ’
It didn’t take them long to sweep up the mess in the yard.
Kat followed Harry up the stairs and into the kitchen.
He didn’t even look at the papers strewn across the table, making a beeline instead for the fridge.
‘I think we deserve a snack, don’t you?’ he asked, though he was already pulling out ingredients and stacking them on the side.
‘I could eat,’ Kat agreed. She’d grabbed an oat and raisin muffin that morning for breakfast – one of the few staples that had escaped the Valentine treatment – but hadn’t really thought about lunch as she’d been too excited at the unexpected time off and the chance to write.
Her mind drifted back to the story she’d been writing and she had to turn away and stare out the window until she was sure her blushes had faded.
Harry had proven a most inspirational source for her hero.
She risked a glance back at him but he was absorbed in slicing a large ciabatta loaf into diagonal pieces.
He certainly had the looks for it. And the personality as well.
There was an inherent kindness to him she found deeply attractive, not to mention his ability to deliver the most knee-trembling of kisses.
Six weeks had passed since New Year’s Eve and the memory of the two of them on the beach was as fresh and clear as if it had happened only yesterday.
Needing a distraction from her wayward thoughts, Kat started tidying up the table, telling herself they’d need to clear it for whatever Harry was cooking but really she was intensely curious as to what it was that had him so stressed out he’d gone on a smashing spree.
She stacked the paint charts in a neat pile and set them to one side, noting several of them had crosses marked against particular shades.
The catalogue had a number of dog-eared pages and she was careful not to disturb any of those as she closed the cover and added it to the pile.
The paperwork was a mix of hand-drawn sketches, spreadsheets and a multi-page document headed ‘Business Plan’, with lots of blank sections in it.
Kat flicked through but there was very little detail other than a couple of scrawled sentences in the first box.
It had been a long time since she’d seen his writing, but she knew it was Harry’s because the spelling was atrocious and several of the words were indecipherable.
He was clearly having a nightmare, but how to get him to talk about it?
Putting it aside, she turned to the sketches and studied them. ‘How are things going with the cookery school plans?’ she asked, keeping her tone as casual as possible.
‘Don’t ask.’ There was a slight stiffness to Harry’s voice and Kat immediately tidied up the stack of paper and set it on top of the catalogue.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,’ she said, walking over to where he was busy grating cheese from a thick block into a bowl. ‘What are you making for us?’
‘Tomato and herb rarebit.’ He flicked her a quick sideways glance. ‘Otherwise known as fancy cheese on toast.’
She laughed. ‘Oh, I love cheese on toast – fancy or otherwise. Is there anything I can do to help?’
He shook his head. ‘You can make us a cup of tea if you like, but maybe wait until I’ve got everything under the grill.’
‘That I can definitely do.’ She leaned across and touched his arm gently, wanting his full attention on her for a moment.
‘Hey,’ she said when he set down the grater and looked at her.
‘You can tell me to mind my own business, but if the plans for the school are stressing you out, I’m happy to listen. ’