Over these past eighteen months I had replayed over and over in my mind the feeling of his lips on mine, his body pressed against me. Whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see was Harry’s face flushed with desire for me – as though my subconscious was so desperate to be with him that it used any perceived downtime to conjure him up. It affected everything I did. And now, here he was telling me what a mistake it had been. Apologising for what he saw as a moment of weakness on his part.
“You don’t need to apologise,” I said, my throat was tight and my voice sounded hoarse. I looked away and swallowed, pushing all these inconvenient feelings back down where they belonged. The last thing I needed was to seem emotional on site. I couldn’t think of anything worse. I’d worked hard for the kind of authority I had in this male-dominated environment – developing over-emotional tendencies wasn’t going to engender much respect. “You’re entitled to your opinion, just like you were twenty years ago.”
Harry’s face darkened. “Twenty years ago you played me, and your family very nearly ruined mine. If anyone’s entitled to hold resentment over twenty years ago it’s me.”
“W–what do you mean?”
Harry gave me a blatant look of disbelief. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what happened.”
I frowned at him. “Harry, all I know is that you finished school and cut off all contact with me.”
“My dad nearly lost his job because of your family. My familydidlose their home.”
“He… he what?” I thought back to the last year of school. Yes, Mr York had given up his housemaster position but that was nothing to do with me or my family. Then a memory flashed through my mind of a visit from my parents during that summer term.
“That nosy, do-gooding, holier-than-thou piece of shit,” my mother had snapped in the car on the way home. “Thinks he can tell me how to look after my own kids.” She ignored both me and Heath. Neither of them had said a word to us since the fake hugs they gave for Mr York’s benefit. “You don’t think he can… do anything. Can he?”
My father snorted. “No teacher is going to speak to me like that,” he muttered. “That fucking, jumped-up bottom-feeder has just signed his own resignation letter. He has no idea who he’s taken on, who we are.”
“My parents,” I breathed. “This is about when he raised concerns about my parents.”
Mr York had been Heath’s housemaster. Towards the end of Harry’s last summer term Heath told me that Mr York, Harry’s dad, had been sniffing around our home circumstances. Our parents hadn’t been seen at the school for over a year, and after the previous summer holidays we’d come back to school… a bit worse for wear. Thin. Those had been a bad few weeks. Max’s parents, the Hardcastles had picked us up for the remaining holidays that year which had frustrated Mr York. My housemaster wasn’t particularly interested – happy just to accept my assurance that everything at home was fine. Mr York however was more persistent. He wasn’t willing to accept any of Heath’s explanations. He went as far as to report his concerns to the headmaster.
Heath and I had been taken to the headmaster’s office the week before the term ended and questioned about our homelife. But by that stage we were conditioned to give our standard answers. In any case, our granny had passed away and there was no other family who could take guardianship of us. Neither of us wanted to see what kind of guardian the state would conjure up for us. So, we lied. If I remember correctly, we even laughed off the suggestions of abuse. The headmaster was all too willing to accept our explanations. The last thing that school needed was to go after prominent people like my parents. Mr York wouldn’t have stood a chance against Lord and Lady Markham.
My ears were ringing now and everything had slipped a little out of focus. I concentrated on my breathing and fought my way out of the past and back to the present, Harry’s angry voice filtered into my consciousness.
“You probably had a good laugh at my dad’s expense,” he said. “All a game to people like you, a man’s livelihood. But to us it was a pretty big deal. My parents had to move out of the free housing the school provided when Dad lost his housemaster role, meaning they couldn’t help support me at uni. I had to work like a dog to manage my first year living in London. Our lives were turned into a complete shitshow in the wake of the Markhams.”
I took in a stuttering breath and let it out slowly. The world around me seemed to be falling away. Harry and his formidable anger was all I could see.
People like you.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been lumped in with my parents and I was normally able to shrug it off. I’d long since stopped caring about people’s opinions of something they knew nothing about. But with Harry I was struggling to be so robust. Unfortunately, despite everything, Harry’s opinion mattered to me. Maybe it was because I fell in love with him before I even really knew what love was, and that had left some sort of mark on my soul. Even now with false accusations and animosity in the air I could feel this pull to him, this yearning. I swallowed and forced myself to meet his angry gaze.
“He tried,” I said, my voice weaker than I would have liked, but to honest I was impressed I’d been able to get any words out at all. Harry’s anger morphed into confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Your dad,” I said, my voice stronger now. “He tried. That’s… that’s more than can be said for the rest of them.” I moved forward and laid my hand on Harry’s forearm which was crossed over his chest. “You tell him I said sorry, but that what he did meant something. It meant something to us that someone tried.”
Harry blinked and I pulled my hand away as he began to uncross his arms. I could feel the backs of my eyes start to sting and I knew that I needed to get out of there.
“Verity, I–” Confusion had now been replaced by concern, which was the last thing I wanted. I shouldn’t have said what I did about his dad. I couldn’t stand Harry’s pity. Better he thought I was a spoiled brat who got his dad fired. I could reach out to Mr York in my own way. I had the resources to track him down and it wasn’t like I wasn’t used to cleaning up my family’s messes. Just look at the grief I had been getting from my mother over the last year. I took a couple of steps back, making sure not to stumble this time.
“You’re right,” I said, my voice stronger now. “It’s best to just forget everything. Put it all behind us.”
“Maybe that’s not the–”
“I’m not going back there again,” I blurted out to cut him off. “I won’t. It’s over. It stays in the past where it belongs.” Harry glanced down at my hands which I realised were clenched so tightly into fists at my sides that my knuckles must have turned white. I made a huge effort and managed to let them uncoil and turned to leave.
“Ican’tforget about it,” he said, his voice rising. I took a step back and his eyes flashed to my feet. He frowned before focusing back up to my face. “You’re still all I can think about. It’s putting me off my work, I can’t sleep. It’sconsumingme.” I blinked once and then turned away from his intense expression. Okay so maybe Harry was suffering nearly as much as me, but I doubted he had this soul-deep yearning that I seemed to be tortured with. Even now he looked furious that he wasn’t able to suppress his attraction for me, that I was distracting him from his work. Heaven forbid he’d forget to make another billion this week.
“Is that why you’re apologising? Want another crack at it do you?”
“No… yes… no. Look, I just want totalk, Verity. Some of the things you’re saying don’t make any sense to me. I’m sorry I made assumptions but based on past form I–”
“Past form?” my voice started to rise again. “Mypast form? LookI’msorry that your dad lost his housemaster position, I really am. But twenty years ago,youwere the one to cut me off, not the other way around.”
