Chapter eighty-four

When Charlie staggers back to the Front Desk, Harry glued guiltily to his side, I jump up so quickly that the swivel chair I'm sitting on zooms off and smacks into the wall behind me. Jae is calling to the young man beside me, who I now know to be Lee, to call off the investigation, then goes rushing off to speak to Harry. From behind Jae, I eye Harry, wanting to go closer or even say a word to him, but I keep my fingers crossed behind me that Jae will conclude this soon, and Harry can talk to me.

Everyone speaks to him at once, and I watch his face twist in discomfort, overwhelmed by the swarm of voices. I know at once that he didn't mean for this to happen.

"Everyone, SHUT UP!" I bark, and everyone turns to me, surprised. I ignore them, and focus on the small twinkle in Harry's eyes when he glances at me, too. "Harry…"

"I'm sorry, everyone," he mutters before I can say anything else. We all turn to him, who's staring at the floor, fiddling with his fingers. "I must've worried you all, leaving so suddenly –"

"Why did you leave so suddenly?" asks Jae, and I can't help but shoot her a dirty look.

"Uh – right," Harry replies. "I haven't told anyone, but I probably should've mentioned beforehand that I'm… I'm… afraid of the dark."

"What?!" Lilli and Ben exclaim in unison while Emily lets out a small snigger and Charlie grins knowingly, as if to say, I knew it. Jae is once again taking notes for some gosh-darn reason. And I just stare at him, wanting and needing to hold his hand, and promise him that I'll get a nightlight just for him, to keep in his room when he returns to London.

Finally, when everyone leaves Harry some room to breathe, I approach him and reach for his hand. By the look on his face, I'm sure he's expecting me to tell him to warn me next time.

"Are you hungry, Harry?" I ask. "Or perhaps thirsty?"

His mouth opens to speak, but I wander back to the desk to pick up Anik's drink, then hand it to Harry to drink.

In the buffet, conversations come slowly and leave swiftly, and everyone's unsure of what to say. It seems that the only people who have appetites today are Emily (as always) and, to my happy surprise, Harry, who finally gobbles down seconds. He even accepts me feeding him a slice of garlic bread, which the rest of the group gawk at.

"Um…" starts Charlie. "What are we planning to do next?"

I accidentally catch eye-contact with Lilli, who holds my gaze, thinking hard.

"Why don't we just split off and do what we want for the rest of the day?" she suggests, still staring at me. As she turns away, I swear I see her wink. She knows I want to speak to Harry alone.

"Great!" Emily exclaims. "I've been wanting to check out that massage place upstairs." She turns to Ben. "Will you come with me, Ben?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure."

I put my hand on Harry's forearm. "Hey, I heard there's a library on Deck five. We should go there, check it out, no?"

He smiles at me softly. "We should."

Past the ever-playing jazz band, past Emily's favourite sweet shop, and down a small hallway, opening the door to a cosy room decorated with golden antiques, dusty shelves stacked full of old-looking hardbacks, and a wafting scent of cinnamon in the air. I almost ask a woman for the recipe of her cinnamon cookies before I remember that it isn't possible to go and bake as you please on a cruise.

We plop down into a pair of comfy armchairs, books in hand, flicked to the first page, silently reading. I feel warm and fuzzy, but even more so when I feel Harry's hand slip into mine. Lilli suggested this time for me to talk to Harry, but silence is as golden as the antiques in this room. And words are so much less than having Harry's hand in mine.

The late afternoon finds us inside a theatre after being carried in by a large crowd. We were on our way to get chocolate cake, but this might be a slightly healthier option. We take two seats in the grand circle, glancing around at the vast expanse of the theatre in awe.

The feeling of being in a warm, dimly-lit place among hundreds of others, murmuring softly to each other with the occasional cough or laugh of a child, enfolds me comfortingly. I know it's not appropriate, and I know Harry probably doesn't want to hear it, but the words slip out in a slur, before I can stop myself.

"Is it just you," I begin, "moving to London?"

Harry heaves a sigh, and I don't expect him to respond, but when he does start talking, I bathe in his low voice.

"My dad told me he wants to leave straight after this cruise," he tells me. "He's really used to travelling so I don't think he thought twice about booking flights as soon as I get home," he sighs. I feel a little sorry for asking, but he continues: "Either way, he said it would be good so I could spend a while getting used to London again. Really though, I think he wants to go drinking with his mates." He grins at this, so I smile back. "What about you?"

"Huh?"

"Where will you be heading after this cruise?"

"Uh…" I clear my throat. "My parents want me to go to university," I explain. "I was accepted into two, not too far away from home, but…" I look over my shoulder at him. "... I'd like to take a break for a year." I shrug. "Travelling the world sounds nice."

"You have the money for it?" Not judging, just asking.

"My dad's a doctor."

He seems to have some reaction to that, an eyebrow twitch, but continues speaking like normal.

"Where would you go first?"

"I'd start on the other side of the world and work my way home."

"By the other side, you mean…"

I grin. "Yup." I picture the islands we've already visited, and the drifting memories, like fuzzy movie sequences on an old cinema screen. "These islands."

Harry looks away. "Sounds like freedom."

"You could come with me," I suggest, embarrassed by how eager I sound.