Shell House (9 page)

       
So all in all her exit was extremely unfitting, childish and made her look quite idiotic. It left them all with an uncomfortable silence broken eventually by Harry. It was more an announcement than a conversation starter and his tone let Jonathan know he wasn’t going to change his mind.

        “I’ve finally decided to open my shell room as a museum for visitors.”

       
There was a long pause as everyone stared at him until Nancy broke the stinted silence.

       
“That’s fantastic news, Granddad!”

       
Jonathan let out a loud sigh, making sure that Harry heard him. He may as well have blown a gale across the table at his father; it was so heavy with disagreement it filled the room with a thick, almost tangible atmosphere. Harry stared at him defiantly and waited. Gabrielle said nothing; she didn’t feel it was her place. She’d been quiet all through dinner. She’d kept willing herself to speak; get a handle on it and make some sort of conversation but her brother’s frosty reception had made her so nervous she’d thought it best to keep quiet.

       
“Are you doing it to annoy me or because you want to?” Jonathan glared at Harry through his precisely rectangular glasses. Harry could always see Emma in his eyes but that’s where the similarity ended. Jonathan mainly took after him, the obvious difference being that his face was cold and hard against Harry’s soft and warm countenance. Jonathan showed a brutal dislike towards anyone who stepped over his moral guidelines and impatience to what he referred to as bumbling stupidity. He wore it like a piece of clothing.

       
“Everything I do annoys you, Jonathan.”

       
“Is this another thing you’ve talked my father into?” Jonathan turned on Gabrielle who just stared at him blankly.

       
“Don’t you dare start on her!” Harry stood up from the table, the legs of his chair screeching painfully across the polished wooden floor. Nancy jumped up, startling Gabrielle further.

       
“All I wanted was for us to have a nice dinner together like a proper family. It was obviously too much to ask of you and mother. Apologies Aunt Gabrielle and please excuse me but I’m going to make a start on the clearing up.”

       
“No apology necessary.” Gabrielle waved her hand at Nancy, gesturing her to go. “I think I might join you.”

       
“Who the bloody hell do you think you are, familiarising yourself with my daughter as her Aunt!? Something you never have or ever will be.” Jonathan stood up and defiantly faced his father at eye level.    “Anna was right, this is a bloody farce and you are a stupid old fool.”

       
“Don’t talk to Granddad like that!”

       
“Nancy, go into the kitchen with your Aunt please.” Harry wasn’t going to back down.

       
The two men stared at one another.

       
“I asked her a question and I want to hear her answer.” Jonathan turned to Gabrielle, who had placed her napkin on the table. The Christmas crackers were untouched and looked out of place on the table next to the still steaming plates of food that had been barely eaten, as though they were guests that had worn out their welcome.

       
Adrenalin hit Gabrielle’s stomach and drained into her legs as she spoke. “I’m not going to make any big speech Jonathan. I understand why you feel the way you do; I think it’s best I don’t say anything at all.”

       
“Is that it? Is that all you’ve got to offer? And you’re supposed to be some big shot writer?” He was really getting going − his bottom lip was stretched, bearing his teeth. “Spineless just like your bloody books. Nobody wants you here.”

       
The last comments stung Gabrielle as though he’d pushed her into an ice cold bath and it gave her a flashback of their childhood together and how spiteful he could be. She pushed back her chair and removed herself from the table, willing the tears to go away. There was so much she wanted to say but her dignity was telling her to keep quiet.

       
“That’s right, walk away. Very convenient to bugger off and leave everyone else to deal with the consequences. Think you can flounce back after all these years just when you think my father’s about to die. Think you’re in for a share, do you? Well you can piss off! He didn’t want you when you were born. My mother died for you!”

       
Harry, Nancy and Gabrielle all stared back at Jonathan, astounded at his cruel words and the venom in his voice; all suddenly aware that he’d obviously been drinking before he’d arrived at the house. It was the most he’d spoken in one visit in many years. He was a man of painfully few words, but it was the spiteful content of them that had shocked them all, alcohol induced or not. It was as though they were covered in the mould and rot that had been festering inside him for so long.

       
“I don’t want anything, Jonathan. It hadn’t even occurred to me you would think that. All I wanted was to see my family.” It was almost a whisper she was so choked at his unkind words. There was a faint glimmer of embarrassment on Jonathan’s face as he realised he’d gone too far, but he wasn’t about to show it.

       
“Get out of my house!”

Nancy and Gabrielle turned to see a shaking Harry leaning on the table, glaring at his son, tears of disappointment and dismay rolled down his tired face.
“Get out!!”

       
“Granddad, don’t upset yourself like this.” Nancy grabbed his arm, trying to peel his hands from the table in order to sit him in a chair before he collapsed.

       
“Just go, Dad!” yelled Nancy.

       
“Get out! I said get out!” Those last words were almost a cry and Gabrielle’s heart seemed to flinch with an ache at the sound of the pain in them.

       
Jonathan defiantly finished his wine in one large gulp, all the time staring at his father. He slammed the glass on the table and left.

       
Gabrielle and Nancy sat back down with Harry, each holding his hands while he wept like he had when he’d first lost Emma.

CHAPTER TWO

        Gabrielle knocked on Harry’s door, not looking forward to the conversation they were about to have. He answered quickly, already wearing his coat and gloves, all prepared for his usual walk down to the sea front.

       
“Everything alright?” Gabrielle was concerned; he looked terribly pale and drawn after the previous day’s events.

       
“Yes love. Got to move forward and put it behind us.”

       
Gabrielle stopped walking and regarded his whole demeanour.

       
“Do we?”

       
“Of course we do. Come on, I need to keep moving, it’s cold and I’m an old man.”

       
“The thing is Harry I think there’s too much behind everyone to move forward.” Gabrielle began to walk and fell into step with him.

       
“I knew you’d say all this. You’re going to tell me you’ve decided to go home too.”

       
“Yes...but I’m not feeling sorry for myself if that’s what you’re getting at.”

       
“Not at all. I just knew you’d feel somehow to blame for what happened yesterday and think it best to leave.”

       
They were both silent for a while as they walked towards the bench Harry always sat on. Gabrielle pushed her arm through his. He glanced at her.

       
“You’ll be calling me Dad next?”

       
“Would it bother you if I did?”

      
“I would love nothing more. It felt strange when I first met you and you called me Harry even though I hadn’t seen you for all those years and shouldn’t have expected you to call me anything else.”

       
“I did want to but thought you might think it inappropriate. In any case we wouldn’t want anyone to overhear and work out who I am. It feels strange being called Gabrielle again; I’ve been Rebecca for so long now.”

       
“You don’t mind?”

       
“No. I quite like it actually.”

       
“You’re still my daughter whatever you call me.”

       
“I’ve had a wonderful time, Harry, I really have but I ought to go home. It won’t be long before people realise who I am; I don’t think Anna will keep it to herself and well, and I don’t want to spoil things any further.”

       
“You haven’t spoilt anything and you can be sure Anna won’t say anything; she couldn’t bear the shame of it....” Harry flinched realising what he’d said. “Sorry, that was a bit callous.”

       
“It’s true though. It’s fine. We’re fine. Let’s leave well alone and I’ll come and stay again in a few months.”

       
“Won’t you just stay for Christmas? It would mean a lot to me.”

       
“You’ll have your family around you; it wouldn’t be right. You’ll sort things with Jonathan soon enough and it’ll all blow over.”

       
“Will it? I’m not sure I care anymore.”

       
“You don’t mean that; you’re just angry.”

       
“I’m tired, that’s all. Weary from battling with him.”

       
Gabrielle squeezed his arm. “Look, I’ve disrupted things enough. Christmas will be calmer without me around. I promise I’ll be back in the New Year.”

       
“I’m being selfish. You must have your own life to get back to.”

       
“I do and I would love to spend Christmas with you but let’s plan for that next year, hey?”

       
A pause hung in the air and as silent as it was they could both feel the heavy weight it carried, thinking the same thing, that Harry probably wouldn’t see another Christmas.

       
“We certainly will. When are you leaving?”

       
“Today.”

       
Harry nodded, unable to hide his disappointment; tears welled in his eyes. He’d hoped he’d persuade her; he didn’t want her to go and it was a peculiar feeling; a kind of emptiness. He knew things wouldn’t go back to normal or the way they were, they couldn’t and the future suddenly felt uncertain.

       
“Come on let’s have one last breakfast in a box.” Gabrielle tried to stop her voice breaking and pulled him up by his arm, suddenly needing to move and jolly them both into a better mood. She could feel the imaginary rope that linked them unravelling from her waist and it pained her.

       
She didn’t want to leave and it felt like the most excruciating decision she’d had to make in a long time, but she didn’t want to be responsible for breaking up another family.

       
Having brought food, they walked to the bench they always sat on, neither of them very hungry. Harry had so many things he wanted to say to her but every time he formulated a sentence he knew it would come out wrong. He wanted to tell her he may not see another Christmas, that he wanted to spend all the time he had left with her, but he was worried it would sound like emotional blackmail and she’d tell him he was being silly, as everyone did when he mentioned dying.

       
They both wanted the same thing but couldn’t bring themselves to tell one another for fear of the upset it would cause.

CHAPTER THREE

       
Gabrielle arrived back at her house sometime later that day and everything felt different. A blanket of dull clouds had swept across her life and her home and all she could think about was how she’d wished she’d said she’d go to Harry’s for Christmas. It had pained her to leave but she’d thought she was doing the right thing; now she just felt filled with guilt when she remembered the disappointment that was visible on his face.

       
Having reassured herself all the way home in the car that she’d made the right decision, she was now asking herself what sort of Christmas he would have. What would she be spoiling if she’d decided to stay? Didn’t she have a tiny right to be there, to share one Christmas with her father after all these years?