Chapter 1 Becky #2
Becky didn’t share her confidence. She felt very protective towards her older brother.
She’d been in love once in her life and it hadn’t been a quick process.
It had crept over her stealthily, like an emotional weight gain, layer upon layer going unnoticed until one day you woke up and took a long hard look at yourself and realised something about you was different.
It had come as a shock to her, and not a good one.
But she’d disciplined herself not to think about that.
Her phone rang and a name flashed up.
Rosie.
After a moment’s hesitation she rejected the call and a moment later a message popped up on her screen.
Declan and I are on our way! Can’t wait to see you.
Becky’s fingers hovered over the keyboard but in the end she just sent a couple of emojis.
Rosie was married now. She didn’t need to get into lengthy exchanges with her twin sister.
And at this precise moment Becky didn’t feel robust enough to handle Rosie cooing over how fantastic Declan was—how he’d fixed her laptop again (Becky had often fixed her sister’s laptop and had never be on the receiving end of even a fraction of the love and appreciation that Declan was shown for performing the same task) or how perfect Declan was (he certainly hadn’t been perfect when Becky had worked with him, and not just because he always left the milk out of the fridge).
And honestly Becky was happy for her. She adored her sister, and she believed that if there was ever a moment when life wasn’t dumping crap in your lap, then you should make the most of it.
But being relegated to the second-most-important person in her sister’s life wasn’t easy, and training herself not to contact her sister at all hours of the day required a discipline that was exhausting.
Emojis were okay, weren’t they? Emojis didn’t intrude on her twin’s personal space.
She could hardly register the fact that Rosie was married, even though she’d been at the wedding.
This was going to be the first time the whole family had been together since that day in February.
Their first family Christmas with an extra member of the family (two extra members if you counted Jamie’s girlfriend).
Rosie’s first Christmas married to Declan.
The first Christmas that Becky and Rosie wouldn’t be up at dawn poking presents together.
Rosie would be in bed with Declan. Sleeping.
Or not. Maybe she’d be doing more exciting things than sleeping.
Jamie would be in bed with his girlfriend, probably not sleeping.
And she’d be in bed on her own. Or maybe with the dog if she could sneak him into her room without her mother seeing.
Becky felt horribly flat. Not gloomy exactly, but close to it.
Christmas was going to be different. And not in a good way, at least for her.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to go at all.
But if she stayed in London she’d break her mother’s heart. And very possibly her own. Also, she needed to check out this woman Jamie had met. Turned out the sibling bond was stronger than the need for self-preservation.
She’d be okay. Her superpower was hiding her feelings, not just from other people but also from herself. She worked on the principle that if you didn’t acknowledge something, then you could pretend it wasn’t there.
She zipped up her hoodie, tightened the laces on her winter boots and clomped her way through the terminal building, dragging her large suitcase and dodging passengers as she followed the signs for car rental.
Thanks to the party her flatmate had thrown the night before, she was tired (she’d worn earplugs, but still the entire building had vibrated), and the last thing she needed was to navigate pre-Christmas traffic for seven hours or longer, but it seemed she didn’t have a choice.
If necessary, she’d pull over and take a nap.
She almost laughed.
She was twenty-eight years old and, if she was to believe the article she’d read on her phone the week before, in the prime of her life. If she hadn’t been told, she wouldn’t have known. She didn’t feel as if she was in the prime of anything.
She’d started a new job eight months earlier and so far it wasn’t going well.
She was good at what she did and had no problems with the job itself, but in this new place being good at your job wasn’t enough.
You had to socialize. It wasn’t about the work, it was about schmoozing with the right people.
She hated playing those complicated political games and she wasn’t good at it, mostly because she wasn’t interested.
Taking the job had been a mistake, she could see that now. One of many she’d made lately.
These days even home was stressful, because she was no longer living with her sister and she’d underestimated how hard that would be. She’d always known she’d miss her, at least at first, but not this much.
She paused just long enough to buy herself a strong coffee, hoping it might give her flagging energy a boost. Juggling suitcase, scarf and coffee, she walked past a giant Christmas tree glowing with lights and no doubt designed to put people in a festive mood.
Twinkling stars cascaded from the roof of the terminal building.
Most people were too desperate about the travel situation to take any comfort from twinkling stars.
What they wanted was transport. No one was where they wanted to be.
It felt like a metaphor for her life.
It crossed her mind briefly that if Rosie and Declan hadn’t yet left, she could grab a ride with them, but she dismissed the thought instantly.
She wasn’t a good passenger at the best of times, and being trapped in the car with those two lovebirds would finish her off.
Christmas would be bad enough. She didn’t need a preview.
As the woman had predicted, the queue for car rental was long and crackling with impatience and tension.
The man and the woman in front of her were locked in an argument.
“What if we make it to the front and there are no cars left?”
Good question , Becky thought. What then?
“They will have cars.”
“You don’t know that. Look at the length of the queue! I think we should head out of London and try somewhere less busy.”
Becky considered that suggestion even though it hadn’t been directed at her.
Maybe that wasn’t the worst idea. But what if she did that and there were still no cars? She’d be stranded outside London. No, she was staying put and hoping for some luck.
Honestly, could things be any worse?
“Becky?”
The deep voice almost made her drop her coffee.
Oh no. Please no.
She conjured up a smile—if the woman behind the check-in desk could do it then so could she—and turned.
He stood directly behind her, drawing interested glances from the many bored women standing in the queue.
“Will! This is a surprise. What are you doing here?”
He was living proof of the fact that just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, they got worse.
“Same as you I imagine. I was hoping for a quick journey home, but it doesn’t look as if that’s going to happen.” He pulled her in for a hug, which was a standard greeting between them, and it gave her a chance to bury her very red face in his coat.
Typical. It was snowing outside and her cheeks were blazing like a furnace.
She never would have thought she could feel uncomfortable with Will, but that was before she’d embarrassed herself at her sister’s wedding.
Embarrassed was probably too tame a word.
Embarrassed was when you were late for a dental appointment, or you forgot someone’s birthday.
This was bone-deep humiliation. The sort of humiliation that made you wonder if you should emigrate, have plastic surgery and change your name.
She was just going to ignore it. Pretend it had never happened.
Hopefully he’d do the same.
She stepped back. “I thought I’d hang out in an airport for a while. Soak up some of the festive spirit.”
“I’m pleased you’re able to laugh about it.” He studied her for a moment, his hands still on her shoulders. “It’s good to see you. It has been a while.”
“Oh, you know—new job, busy, busy—”
He nodded. “Are you okay? You look upset about something.”
And she thought that hiding her feelings was her superpower. Not from Will, apparently. “I’m fine. It’s just airport stress.”
“I can tell you’re not fine, Becky. Talk to me.”
She almost told him that she didn’t feel remotely festive.
That she was dreading going home for Christmas.
That she was a mess . But she managed to stop herself.
“You know those train announcements—the ones where they tell you to mind the gap between the train and the platform? It’s the same for Christmas.
I try not to fall into the chasm between expectation and reality. ”
He gave her a speculative look. “Okay. Well, if you want to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you, you know where I am.”
“You know me. I’m not big on talking about things. I leave that to my sister.”
“Hopefully your reality will improve a little once you get out of this place.” His gaze shifted from her face to the queue. “You’re hiring a car?”
“Yes.” What else could she say? That she was standing in line to see Santa?
“That seems to be the only way to get up north today. Unless a certain person in a red suit with a white beard can find room for me on his sleigh as he flies past. I didn’t see any mention of his flight being grounded.
Maybe they’ve cleared the skies for him. ”
He smiled. “I don’t have a sleigh, but I do have a car and I’m parked here, at the airport. You can come with me if you like. We can drive up together.”
She didn’t like. She absolutely did not like.
“That’s a kind offer, but it will be easier if we do our own thing. I might need to stop on the way, make a few work calls—” She stumbled under his questioning gaze.