Chapter 11 #3
She clicked on the text message bubble and typed.
Hi. Are you there?
She hit send.
A soft knock made Josie jump. Suzie nudged the door open with her foot, her hands full with a small tray, not waiting for a reply.
“I made you tea.”
“Thanks. On the nightstand, please.”
“T-shirts in that drawer if you want something to sleep in, and a new toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet.” She handed Josie a glass of water and a couple of pills, glanced at the phone in Josie’s hand, as if catching her in some illicit act, then looked back at her with wide eyes. “You all good?”
“I’m okay. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. We take care of each other, don’t we?” She gave a small smile and retreated with a quiet “Night.”
Josie changed into a faded T-shirt and climbed into bed, her left hand throbbing. She propped herself up against pillows and picked up the phone again. She clicked on David’s name and started to read backwards.
[Nov 30: 11.19 p.m.]
Hi. Are you there?
[Nov 30: 9.52 a.m.] Happy b’day, sis! “Have a nice day!” as they say. Hope you got my pressie in the post, sorry if it’s late. Have a good one, call me before my flight to Sydney tonight, mwah XD
[Nov 18]
Screw you! It’s hard to buy for her when I’m here. She loves vouchers, anyway. Who doesn’t? Jx
[Nov 17]
Hey, cheapskate. Did you seriously give Mum an Amazon gift voucher for her birthday? You’re such a loser. You know what you’re getting for your birthday now, don’t you? :D
[Nov 6]
Hey arsehole, or asshole as they say over here. What are you getting Mum for her birthday? Can I come in with you on something? Running out of time to send gift. Get her something lovely and pretend it was my idea. Jx
He had been texting. As recently as this morning.
He was alive.
Josie’s heart raced, and her fingers trembled as she scrolled more and more rapidly through the texts, a sob thickening in her throat.
The banter between Josie and her brother went on and on, backwards. The texts were only every few weeks, except for a flurry of messages around August and up to mid-September, when it seemed she and David, plus some friends, had met up for a vacation in Biarritz.
Wiping away the tears that had begun to fall, Josie abandoned the texts for Instagram.
Sure enough, after scrolling backwards in her account, past some autumnal shots of Williamsburg she’d never taken, she found dozens of photos of herself, David, his two best friends, and their partners, plus one couple’s baby, all geo-tagged “Biarritz, France,” and dated September this year.
Pictures of them lying on a beach next to steep cliffs, at French cafés drinking wine, walking along the streets of an old town, David and the guys carrying surfboards in short wetsuits and damp hair. Tanned, disheveled, happy.
Only Josie had never gone on that trip. She’d gone to Mexico this past summer with Rob, ate something too spicy, and had diarrhea for two days. That, she remembered — not going to Biarritz with her dead brother.
Ting-ta-ding.
A text. But it couldn’t be David, surely?
Peter
Hey, are you okay? Suzie ran off, saying you’d had an accident on the way to restaurant. We stayed and waited a while, hoping you’d show up. I’m worried about you — please call or text me! P
Who in the world is Peter?
Josie flipped through her mental contact list. She only knew two Peters in New York.
One was an older guy she had worked with at Crain’s; the other a tall guy in the choir she used to be a member of.
He’d joined after Josie left, but she and Rob had met him briefly at the group’s last concert.
It had to be the latter, since Suzie said a bunch of choir friends were waiting to celebrate her birthday.
But why would he be so concerned? They barely knew each other.
She scrolled further back.
[Nov 30: 12.15 p.m.]
Yeah me too :) See you at the restaurant. Jx
[Nov 30: 11.54 a.m.]
Happy birthday, beautiful. Can’t wait to see you tonight. :P
[Nov 29: 9.48 p.m.]
Stay behind a while tonight? I need to talk to you about something. P
The texts read like she and Peter were friends. Maybe more than friends? But that made no sense.
Josie replied to the new message, mostly to placate whoever this guy was, so he wouldn’t keep texting.
Thanks, I’m not badly hurt, just a crash on my bike and I’m a bit shaken up. Being cared for by my bestie, so don’t worry. Thanks for asking after me, sorry about not making it to my own birthday dinner! I’ll catch up with everyone again soon. J
Josie put the phone down and gazed at the sandy beach on the wall in front of her.
It could be Biarritz. She took a long, slow gulp of the now-tepid chamomile tea, her head swimming.
Was it her dead brother come back to life?
Her missing husband? The mysterious Peter?
The trauma of the crash itself? Or perhaps the codeine was finally kicking in.
Probably all the above.
Her eyes were so heavy. She glanced at the clock: 1.06 a.m. Maybe David would text back soon.
Closing her eyes, she drifted off into an ocean of unremembered dreams.