Chapter Twenty-Three
T HE EVENING OF the fifth proved cold but dry, and a little windy.
It was the perfect condition for fireworks.
Harry picked her up in his car, parking down the street so that Gwen wouldn’t see him and bother her with questions.
Chloe rushed from the house before her sister could ask her where she was going, and sighed in relief at the warm interior of Harry’s car.
She kept glancing at Harry as they drove, his large hands on the steering wheel, shifting gears now and then as they talked about books and films and music.
She felt strangely calm around Harry. And something else, too. A sense of excitement.
She looked out of the window at the passing houses, reminding herself not to lose her head. She and Harry were barely friends. A chaste peck on the cheek didn’t change that. Maybe she was looking at this too deeply.
Still, she couldn’t help sensing that there was a certain energy between them. She wondered if he felt it too. She couldn’t tell as she laughed at his jokes. All she knew was that she felt calm and well in his presence. That things didn’t matter so much.
The car park at Thornbridge Hall was full, and after circling around for ten minutes, Harry sighed.
‘Sorry, Chloe. Didn’t think this through.’
‘It’s all right,’ she reassured him.
They ended up parking somewhere else. The walk soon warmed them up, though, and as they approached the venue, the air smelled of smoke and crackled with excitement.
People with children wrapped up in thick coats and gloves wandered around the hall grounds.
There were dogs on leads, their owners’ breaths fogging in front of their lips as they talked and laughed.
‘I hope the poor doggies aren’t scared of the fireworks,’ said Chloe as a toy poodle trotted past on a lead.
‘You like dogs?’ said Harry, sounding delighted.
‘Yeah, I don’t know which I like more, dogs or cats.’ She thought of Clementine. ‘Cats are more aloof and make you work harder for their affection. Makes it more worth it when they let you pet them.’
‘So you like having to do some chasing?’ Harry asked slyly.
She burst out laughing. ‘Maybe.’
‘Noted.’ Harry looked around. There were several small fires going already. ‘I used to be scared of loud noises when I was a kid,’ he said. ‘When I was about five, I’d jump and start crying at the slightest thing. My mam brought me to a fireworks festival to cure me of it.’
‘Wow,’ said Chloe, not sure how to feel. ‘That seems, um, harsh?’
‘Maybe, but it worked,’ he assured her. ‘Though she told me I screamed the whole time and buried my face in her jacket. Then right at the end, I looked up and exclaimed, “Wow, it’s so pretty.” Then it was over.’
‘Your mum sounds strict,’ said Chloe as they climbed a grassy hill, people chattering all around them, the air smelling of smoke and cooking food.
‘She’s great. I’ll introduce you sometime.’
Harry casually mentioning Chloe meeting his mother brought on a swooping sensation in her stomach, but they were distracted by a young woman who looked half frozen asking to see their tickets. Harry produced them and they were told they could get a free jacket potato at a nearby stall.
‘Not bad,’ Chloe remarked later, holding her box of chilli baked potato smothered in salty butter in her hands.
People were lining up for hot chocolate and marshmallows, and the air held a heavenly mix of savoury and sweet food.
Chloe huddled next to Harry, his warmth a relief in the cold night.
The fireworks display would start in fifteen minutes.
Some children played with sparklers, laughing as they waved them around to spell their names or make shapes. They went to see the fire pit, which Chloe thought was quite small, but its warmth was delicious. Harry bought Chloe a hot chocolate and she happily sipped. It was gloriously creamy.
‘It’s starting,’ said Harry, flinching only ever so slightly as the first of the fireworks screeched and popped into the sky.
People oohed and aahed at the bright display.
Chloe glanced around to see the people watching with delight.
A few dogs cowered between their owners’ legs; others looked unbothered.
A man wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders, cuddling him close as they looked skyward.
It was a beautiful moment, everyone stopping what they were doing to stand together and watch the fireworks.
Harry had a smile on his face, the lights reflecting in his eyes. Maybe it was the atmosphere or the fireworks, but Chloe thought he had never looked so handsome. His lips were parted in wonder, a look of innocent joy on his face.
A loud bang of a new firework caught her attention. It fizzed and crackled into hundreds of silver lights that faded into smoke. Harry’s hand took her free one and squeezed tight.
The crowd watched in awe as the display hit its climax, colours exploding high above them in an orchestra of squeaks and pops and crackles.
When the lights faded and all that was left was the sharp scent of lingering smoke, Harry turned to look at her, pleasure on his face.
It made his eyes crinkle in a charming way.
‘Fireworks,’ he said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. ‘They never get old.’
He leaned down towards her, and Chloe felt a wave of joy, almost giddy with happiness.
She nodded slightly and wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling him towards her.
Their lips met. His were soft, the scent of his aftershave filling her nose, and his mouth parted eagerly to taste her, sending a shiver of desire to her core.
People talked and laughed around them, but Chloe didn’t mind.
Harry’s strong arms wrapped around her waist as he kissed her, his touch full of promise.
No one had kissed her like this in ages, and heat rushed to Chloe’s cheeks, a contrast to the cold air.
When he pulled back, he was grinning and she was breathless.
‘You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘I like you, Chloe.’
His words made her laugh. Chloe spent the rest of the evening on cloud nine.
He held her hand for the rest of the night, his large thumb often running over the back of her hand.
She was still walking on clouds when Harry dropped her off at home later.
After he’d turned off the engine, he cupped her face in his hand and kissed her slowly, deeply, seducing a groan from her throat.
Now they were alone, he lingered, planting soft, gentle kisses along her lips and her cheek.
She sat in her seat, low music playing, pleasure tingling across her skin as she craved more.
Did he want her to invite him inside? Chloe wanted to, whether Gwen was in there or not. Her fingers found the top of his jacket and clung to his collar. She was about to ask him when Harry’s lips reached her ear. His breath warm on her earlobe, he whispered, ‘Goodnight, Chloe.’
She closed her eyes, reminding herself to breathe. Right. He wasn’t ready. And that was okay.
‘I had an amazing time,’ she said, opening the car door. ‘See you again.’
‘Soon,’ he promised, and she felt his eyes lingering on her as she climbed out of his car. He waited until she was at her door, and she waved at him, watching until his car had disappeared around the corner, the rumble of the engine fading away.
She still saw fireworks when she blinked, the taste of the hot chocolate and the masculine, comforting scent of Harry still on her lips as she went inside the house, sighing happily like a teenager on her first date.
What was happening? She felt scared of these new feelings blossoming for Harry, but at the same time, she wanted to embrace them.
She pressed her fingers gently against her lips, wishing she could keep the sense of him on her for longer.
Gwen wasn’t here, the house empty. The thought was strangely lonely; she had gotten used to her sister greeting her and badgering her with questions when she returned. Oh well. This was peaceful. Now she could soak in the glorious aftermath of her date with Harry with no distractions.
When Chloe flicked the lights on, she noted that Gwen had managed to clean up after herself – the living room was neat, the cushions in their proper places and Dad’s coffee table free of curled-up receipts or forgotten plates.
The kitchen, too, sat unblemished, only a few things in the drying rack.
Chloe put them away, wondering if Gwen was on a date of her own again.
Maybe with the same guy as before. Chloe made a mental note to ask her sister how it’d gone.
The house was quiet, though fireworks occasionally popped and banged outside, people still celebrating.
It almost felt like it had at the beginning after Chloe had come back, the first night she had spent here alone after the funeral.
The aunts and distant relatives had gone home, some with boxes of clothes and other bits not precious enough to keep hold of that they promised to pass on to charity shops.
With the last box in the attic and Mum and Dad’s room door closed, Chloe had sat here and cried for hours.
After that, she’d gone back to Sheffield and her marketing job, and for several months she’d tried and failed to find some normalcy with this dark hole in her life where her parents used to be.
Then when a solicitor had contacted her to sort out the legality of the property, she had taken it as a sign to finally admit defeat and leave her office job and tiny flat and move out here.
Soon after, she had found the ad for the job at the library.
The library had been a solace. She didn’t know what she would have done without Mrs Cook, Clementine, the library, and even Eric. Now she allowed herself to think about Harry, to enjoy a harmless fantasy of going on more dates with him, holding his hand, talking about anything.