A Secret Escape

1. Becky

Standing in the airport terminal surrounded by too much noise and too many stressed people, Becky decided that she didn’t love Christmas anywhere near as much as she’d always thought.

Usually she looked forward to it, but there was nothing usual about this particular year.

And now this.

She glanced at the departures board. Everything was red, and not a happy Santa red. Cancelled flight red. You’re-not-going-anywhere red.

‘Nothing?’ She gripped the counter. ‘Are you seriously telling me nothing is flying?’

‘That’s right. Everything is delayed or cancelled because of the snow. I’m sorry.’ The immaculate woman behind the airport check-in desk gave her a smile that was polite rather than warm.

Becky imagined it being part of the uniform policy. Knee length skirt, smooth hair, wide smile.

‘This trip isn’t optional.’ If it was, she wouldn’t be going. She’d be avoiding a family gathering, the way she’d been avoiding all family gatherings lately. Not that she felt good about it. On the contrary, she felt horribly guilty. Even more so because just last week her mother had confessed how much she was looking forward to finally having everyone together. ‘I have to get home.’

‘I understand your frustration.’

Becky was confident she did not understand. There was no way this woman would have any insight into Becky’s current emotional state. If her hair was any indication, she was the type who had every aspect of her life firmly under control.

She tried to stay calm. She reminded herself how lucky she was. She had a job, somewhere to live, and she was healthy. She had nothing to complain about. The fact that her inner world was in turmoil didn’t count. She could almost hear her brother saying first world problems, Becks.

‘How about Edinburgh? I booked a flight to Newcastle, but Edinburgh would be fine. I can drive to Northumberland in just over an hour from there.’

‘Nothing is flying. Not to Newcastle, and not to Edinburgh. I wish I could help, but sadly we can’t control the weather.’

What can we control, Becky wondered? In her experience, not much at all. But maybe that was just her messy, complicated life.

‘I need to get home to my family.’

‘You and several million other people. It’s Christmas and as I said,’ the emphasis was gentle but unmistakeable, ‘nothing is flying. Have you considered taking a train?’

‘The trains are on strike.’ It was as if the entire world of public transport had conspired to make her Christmas as difficult as possible.

‘In that case I suggest a car rental, but you’d better make it fast because everyone here is going to have the same idea. And now if you’ll excuse me –’ the uniformed woman transferred her smile and her attention to the person who was next in the queue.

Becky knew she should feel sorry for her. It couldn’t be fun having to deal with a transport crisis guaranteed to put a dent in everyone’s Christmas cheer or to be expected to soothe and placate thousands of irate and upset travellers armed with nothing more than charm and a very red lipstick. But she was too tired to dredge up the necessary sympathy. Also the woman’s composure was annoying. How did she tame her hair into something so smooth and perfect? Was it part of the training course? No matter what Becky did, her hair ended up in a tangle of curls which was why she’d had it cropped short. There weren’t enough hours in the day to waste a chunk of them drying and styling her hair every day as her twin sister Rosie did.

‘You don’t understand. If I don’t make it home it will look as if I’m –’ how would it look? It wasn’t as if any of her family knew the real reason she didn’t want to be there. No one did. Not even Rosie. It was her secret, which in itself wasn’t too much of a problem because she generally kept her feelings to herself. Growing up, Rosie had expressed enough feelings for both of them and Becky let her get on with it.

And now she thought about it she realised that the weather and the train strike gave her a perfect excuse not to show up for Christmas at all. For a wild moment she pictured herself sprinting from the airport and heading back home for a quiet Christmas of video games and walks in one of London’s snowy parks.

But then the image faded and she thought instead of her mother’s roast turkey and the tiny cinnamon flecked cookies she baked simply because she knew they were Becky’s favourite. She thought of the cheerful red stocking her mother would have hung on the fireplace even though Becky had insisted they were all too old for a stocking (she wasn’t too old for a stocking, but she was old enough to understand how much work went into filling it and felt a responsibility to demur). She thought about her father insisting ‘just one more game of Scrabble, Becky’ and the warm, comforting weight of their ancient Irish setter Percy as he lay on her feet.

She felt homesick for Northumberland with its windswept empty beaches and imposing castles.

She was scared to go home and yet she longed to go home.

‘Could you look again? One more time? I really need to get home,’ she said. ‘It’s not just about Christmas. My brother is having a special party – he’s making an announcement. I assume that means he’s getting engaged –’ she frowned, ‘and I’m not sure how I feel about that. He only met her two months ago. That’s fast don’t you think?’ But she wasn’t a great judge of what was normal when it came to relationships. She wasn’t the sort who fell in and out of love easily.

The woman in the queue adjacent to her nodded. ‘It is fast. My sister was married after four months and she was divorced a year later. She discovered all these things about him that she wished she’d known before.’

‘Exactly.’ Becky turned to face her, relieved that at least someone seemed to understand her concerns. ‘That’s what worries me. You need time to get to know a person. Also, my brother hasn’t dated anyone seriously since his last girlfriend walked out. That was six years ago, and they’d been together for eight years. Since medical school. It left him a bit broken. We’ve all been worried about him. Mum, most of all, obviously, because she worries all the time even when we’re fine. For years he has dated no one, and then suddenly he went on a business trip and he met this girl and now, two months later, he has an announcement to make. Tomorrow night. He has ordered champagne. I’m assuming it’s a sign.’

‘Sounds like it. Same thing happened to my cousin Martha,’ the man standing behind her in the queue took a step forward. ‘We’d all given up on her meeting someone, hadn’t we Ginny?’

Bored with queuing, the woman he’d addressed the question to hauled her case forward so that she could join in the conversation. ‘We had. Her boyfriend refused to propose, said they were fine as they were and didn’t want to get married, but then a new receptionist started at his work and a month later he left Martha and was getting married. Turns out it wasn’t that he didn’t want to get married, but he didn’t want to marry Martha. He said it wasn’t personal, but how much more personal can you get?’ She exchanged looks with her husband.

‘Heartbreaking,’ he said. ‘We thought Martha would be single forever after that, but three years later she was walking the dog and that was it.’

‘That was what?’ Becky was struggling to keep up. People were so complicated. They made her head hurt, which was why generally she preferred to work with computers.

‘She met Roland. A month later they were married.’

‘Oh.’ Maybe that was reassuring. ‘A month is fast. And they’re happy together?’

‘No. They’re divorced too.’

So not reassuring at all.

She was beginning to wish she hadn’t started this conversation because it was doing nothing to soothe her anxiety about her brother. ‘So you’re saying it’s best to take your time over falling in love.’

‘Maybe, but you don’t always have a choice.’ Ginny leaned closer. ‘Sometimes you can be going along living your life, minding your own business and then wham.’

‘Wham? As in you walk into something and fall over?’

‘No, wham as in you fall in love. Love at first sight. And you can’t help it.’

Becky was about to say that she didn’t believe in love at first sight, but then she thought about her twin sister, now married to Declan, Becky’s long time work colleague (now ex-colleague). Becky had introduced them and that had definitely been a ‘wham’ moment. One minute Becky had been talking to both of them and the next they’d been talking to each other, mesmerised, her existence forgotten. She’d cleared her throat a few times, then banged her glass on the table. Nothing. They’d been so absorbed in each other she’d had a feeling that they wouldn’t have noticed her even if she’d danced on the table. She’d always considered Declan to be a sensible human being, but after that encounter all he’d talked about was her sister. Rosie this. Rosie that. Tell me more about Rosie.

They were married eight months later.

Was that what had happened to Jamie? What was wrong with her family?

‘I’m happy for my brother, obviously, but also worried. Although I suppose if I’m honest I didn’t totally love his first girlfriend. She was a bit judgy.’

Perhaps if you tried to make yourself look a little more feminine, Becky. I get that you work in a mostly male environment and you want to fit in, but maybe you could wear a dress sometimes, or a touch of lipstick. A shoe that doesn’t look as if it has passed the health and safety rules of a construction site.

‘Try not to worry.’ Ginny patted her arm. ‘I’m sure he knows his own mind.’

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 and noise cancelling headphones and 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 as if 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 socialise. 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 then 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 haven’t lost your sense of humour.’ 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 – I don’t know. Upset?’

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.’

‘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.

‘If you need to make a work call from my car, you can make a call Becks.’ He was the only person other than her brother, who called her Becks.

‘It’s confidential.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m not exactly known as a gossip.’

And given what he’d witnessed that was lucky for her, although right now she didn’t feel lucky.

She felt as if the universe hated her.

From behind her she heard a woman mutter if she doesn’t want to get into his car then I will, and for a fleeting moment she saw Will as a stranger might.

He was tall and he radiated calm confidence. He was a doctor, a cardiologist, and she was sure that any patient who saw him approach the bedside would instantly feel reassured. A smart wool coat emphasised the width of his shoulders and a pair of glasses with a bold tortoiseshell frame accentuated the lean lines of his face. He looked as if he’d stepped directly from a photoshoot for ‘sexy academic man’.

She was conscious of her faded jeans and her favourite hoodie that she all but lived in. What did he see when he looked at her?

His best friend’s little sister.

The thought was annoying. She shouldn’t care. She didn’t care! She’d known him all her life and he was the one of the few people she always felt comfortable with, but that had all changed the day of the wedding.

The memory of that had her reaching behind her for her hood. She tugged it over her head in the hope that it might act as a shield.

He frowned. ‘Are you cold? Because you can have my coat.’ He was already starting to shrug it from his shoulders but she stopped him.

‘I’m not cold. My coat is in my luggage because I always overheat in airports. It’s just my head. My head gets cold. You lose most of your heat through your head. You’re a doctor. You should know that.’

‘Um –’ he pulled a face and pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘That’s a myth.’

‘It is? That isn’t a thing?’

‘Not exactly, although of course it’s important to bear in mind the effects that cooling the face and head can have on systemic cardiovascular reflex responses, particularly in elderly people.’

She loved it when he delivered random facts. ‘Elderly? I’m twenty-eight.’

‘I know how old you are, Becks.’

Of course he did. He knew everything about her.

She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, wishing she was more comfortable in awkward social situations. This was one of those occasions where, given the choice, she would have shut herself away with just her laptop for company.

‘I’m keeping my hood up anyway. In case my head is the exception. I might be suffering from premature ageing. Or maybe my head gets colder because my hair is short.’

‘It’s cute. You look good with short hair.’

He was trying to make her feel better. Trying to ease the embarrassment he knew she was feeling.

Since the wedding she’d avoided him as much as she could. The last thing she’d expected was to come face to face with him in a busy airport but given her current run of bad luck she probably should have anticipated it.

It was time to implement her extraction protocol.

She was great at melting away without anyone noticing, mostly because she wasn’t the sort of person people noticed in the first place but in this case melting anywhere wasn’t easy because Will was looking at her in a slightly strange way and it was unsettling because he always seemed to see so much more than most people.

‘Honestly, I’m fine. I’ll need a car when I’m up there anyway. I was going to hire one at the airport so that I can be independent because my mother’s car has a habit of breaking down at inconvenient moments.’

‘Is this about what happened at the wedding?’ He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face and if it had been anyone else but Will she would have slapped his hand away but he’d been hauling her out of ditches and shunting her up trees in the forest near where they lived since she was five years old.

She didn’t mind him touching her hair, but she did mind about the question.

She didn’t want to think about the wedding. She’d tried to block the whole thing from her mind. But now he’d reminded her and every painful detail came flooding back, including all the emotions she’d been trying to ignore.

‘The wedding? No, of course not. It feels like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it? I can barely remember a thing about it, apart from the scratchy dress Rosie made me wear. No, this is about what’s practical. Anyway, good to see you Will. I hope you have a good journey home and have a great Christmas. Maybe we’ll bump into each other at some point.’ She was tempted to step away but then she would have lost her place in the queue, so she waited for him to do it. Leave. Please, just leave.

He didn’t leave.

‘We’re going to be bumping into each other tomorrow. You do know I’m going to the party at your house?’

No, she hadn’t known that. If she’d known she would have looked harder for an excuse to stay in London.

This was promising to be the most excruciating Christmas on record.

‘Jamie invited you?’ Of course he had. Will was Jamie’s closest friend. They’d known each other since kindergarten. They’d gone to the same medical school, although once qualified they’d chosen different specialities and their paths had diverged. But if Jamie was having a celebration, Will was going to be there.

‘Yes. He said he had something big to announce. I assume it’s an engagement?’

‘I’m assuming the same.’

‘I’m happy for him. I know things were rough there for a while.’ He adjusted his glasses. ‘So you’re going to be a bridesmaid again.’

Her gaze met his briefly and she knew they were both thinking about the last time she was a bridesmaid.

Not her finest moment.

‘Looks that way. Woohoo. Lucky me. I just hope he doesn’t expect me to dress as a fairy like Rosie did. I’m not fairy material.’

‘You looked stunning in that dress, Becks.’

He was just being kind, because he’d sensed she was in a low mood.

‘Yeah, right. It gave me a rash, but – thanks.’ Another thing she wasn’t good at. Accepting compliments. ‘Anyway, you should get going. I’m guessing the snow is going to make the driving difficult.’

Will glanced from her to the long line of people ahead of her, as if trying to understand her decision. ‘If you’re sure . . .’

‘I’m sure.’

But just at that moment there was a commotion at the front of the queue.

‘What do you mean there are no more cars?’ A man spoke in a loud voice. ‘There has to be something.’

A ripple of consternation passed through the line of people.

‘No cars?’

‘Did he say no cars?’

‘What’s supposed to happen now?’

It was obvious what had to happen now, at least for Becky.

She closed her eyes and tried a few seconds of mindfulness.

When she opened them Will was still standing there, waiting. She had to admire his staying power.

With a sigh, she swallowed her pride. ‘If your offer of sharing your car still stands –’

‘It still stands, and I promise not to listen when you make your important phone call.’

She wished she’d never mentioned a phone call. Not only would she now need to find someone to call, but she was going to have to make it sound important.

‘Thanks.’

He nodded and stretched out his hand. ‘Do you want help with that suitcase?’

‘Do I look weak and feeble? Thanks, but I’m fine.’ She grabbed it firmly and tugged it closer to her, wondering how she was going to survive this. As well as dreading the impending family gathering, she was now also dreading the journey.

‘I thought your muscles might have atrophied given the time you spend glued to computer screens.’

He was teasing her the way he’d always teased her. It should have felt natural, but nothing felt natural anymore.

‘I could still beat you in an arm-wrestling match.’

His eyebrow lifted. ‘If you’re referring to that incident on your fifteenth birthday, I let you win.’

‘No you didn’t, but we’ll pretend you did if that protects your ego.’

‘I let you win because you were trying to impress that boy who played in the school orchestra with you. The one with red hair and freckles. Tom.’

‘Tim.’ How on earth had he remembered that? ‘Tim Tucker. I haven’t thought about him in years.’

‘I seem to remember the strategy backfired. He was too scared to go near you after that.’

‘So you’re the reason that relationship didn’t work out.’

He nodded slowly. ‘Probably, although in my defence I couldn’t see you being happy with a man who was scared to arm wrestle you. But relationships are complicated. So are feelings.’

And didn’t she know it. She wasn’t good at showing her feelings, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have them. And she wished she didn’t. Feelings were so annoying. There were plenty of days when she thought life would be a lot easier if the human body had been designed to include an on/off switch for feelings. At least then when it all got too much she could have rebooted the system.

She gestured towards the sign directing them to the car park. ‘We should probably get moving.’

‘Yes. If we’re lucky we’ll be there by late afternoon.’

She hoped his luck was better than hers otherwise there was no chance of that.

He was checking the weather and the route on his phone. ‘Mm. If this forecast is correct, the journey might not be easy. It’s saying nine hours.’

‘Nine hours? Did you say nine hours? ’

‘It’s snowing. Broken down vehicles. Lane closures. Don’t worry. We’ll stock up with snacks and you can choose the music.’

The way she felt at the moment her first choice would be a funeral march.

She should have trusted her instincts and refused his offer.

Because it wasn’t true that no one knew the real reason she didn’t want to go home for Christmas. That no one knew her secret.

Will Patterson knew. And now she was going to be trapped in a car with him for nine hours.

Merry Christmas Becky.