OS prompt 128.1 Blue
It was odd to see his flat so empty. Harry had moved around so much that he hadn't accumulated much stuff, but he'd lived here for long enough that it had become home. Now he was getting married in a few weeks it made sense to move into Elaine's house. Or rather, move his possessions in there, since they'd be living in Geneva until next summer. He'd considered selling the flat, but he had a notion that Kelly might find it useful once she finished university and didn't want to live at home. It didn't make sense to leave it empty and collecting dust, so he was renting it out for a few years.
After a last look round to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, he took his boot load of possessions back to Elaine's, where she helped him find places to store it all. He regretted her help when she came across a box he'd rather she didn't ask about.
"What's in this one?"
He went over to have a look, saw what he'd written on the side and then took it off her. "Nothing." He found space for at the back of the wardrobe, which is where it had lived in his flat.
"Who's Will?" she asked quietly.
He shook his head. He hadn't intended coming back to London for the weekend to include talking about Will.
Elaine blocked his path out of the bedroom by standing in the doorway with her arms folded. "What happened to that promise you made about telling me personal things? I don't remember you having done anything of the sort for a long time."
He looked at her, she looked at him and she didn't budge an inch. So he sighed and sat down on the bed. "Will's my brother. Step-brother. Was." He stared at her dressing table as he spoke.
She frowned and sat beside him. "How have I known you for so long and you've never mentioned him? Ever."
"Because he's dead," he said, more firmly than he'd meant to put it, but it had been long enough now that he could at least say it.
"What happened?" she asked softly, and took his hand.
He squeezed it, glad of the comfort. "I don't know. I wasn't here. He got himself mixed up with something he shouldn't and he was shot." Just thinking about the details made his voice go shaky and he couldn't conceal that from Elaine.
"And you still have some of his things?"
He nodded. "He was living in my flat at the time. So I just boxed up what he had left. I can't get rid of it." He turned to her, a pleading look on his face.
"All right." She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "As long as there's space." She stood up, the conversation over.
He was glad she hadn't pushed for more information, but he could tell she'd merely postponed the day, not the conversation itself. He could live with that for now. The longer he could put off talking about Will, the better.
After a last look round to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, he took his boot load of possessions back to Elaine's, where she helped him find places to store it all. He regretted her help when she came across a box he'd rather she didn't ask about.
"What's in this one?"
He went over to have a look, saw what he'd written on the side and then took it off her. "Nothing." He found space for at the back of the wardrobe, which is where it had lived in his flat.
"Who's Will?" she asked quietly.
He shook his head. He hadn't intended coming back to London for the weekend to include talking about Will.
Elaine blocked his path out of the bedroom by standing in the doorway with her arms folded. "What happened to that promise you made about telling me personal things? I don't remember you having done anything of the sort for a long time."
He looked at her, she looked at him and she didn't budge an inch. So he sighed and sat down on the bed. "Will's my brother. Step-brother. Was." He stared at her dressing table as he spoke.
She frowned and sat beside him. "How have I known you for so long and you've never mentioned him? Ever."
"Because he's dead," he said, more firmly than he'd meant to put it, but it had been long enough now that he could at least say it.
"What happened?" she asked softly, and took his hand.
He squeezed it, glad of the comfort. "I don't know. I wasn't here. He got himself mixed up with something he shouldn't and he was shot." Just thinking about the details made his voice go shaky and he couldn't conceal that from Elaine.
"And you still have some of his things?"
He nodded. "He was living in my flat at the time. So I just boxed up what he had left. I can't get rid of it." He turned to her, a pleading look on his face.
"All right." She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "As long as there's space." She stood up, the conversation over.
He was glad she hadn't pushed for more information, but he could tell she'd merely postponed the day, not the conversation itself. He could live with that for now. The longer he could put off talking about Will, the better.