Chapter 12
“Morning, Josie.”
Suzie’s soft drawl roused Josie from a deep sleep.
Josie opened her eyes. Two soulful brown eyes stared back, and Suzie’s trademark red lips broke into a gentle smile.
Josie pulled herself up. “Oh. I didn’t hear you come in. Sorry.”
“It’s fine, thought I’d better let you rest. I’m at home again with the twins today. Euan still has a runny nose. How are you feeling?” Suzie placed a cool hand against Josie’s head.
“Bit soon to say. Not much pain, just confused. Shaken.” Josie sat against the headboard, plumping the pillows behind her, wincing as her bruises made themselves known. Had last night really happened? She tried to look cheerful, but a knot of panic weighed in her stomach.
“I’ll bet.” Suzie moved over to the windows, opening the curtains, and looking back at Josie, eyeing her critically. “Well, you stay as long as you like. Don can drive over to your place and pick up a few things, if you don’t feel like going home tonight. It’ll only take him a few minutes.”
Josie realized she didn’t know where “her place” was but couldn’t say as much to Suzie. Her own home was in a Union Square sub-penthouse with her husband, at least twenty minutes away. But that was clearly not where Suzie meant.
“Uh, right. Thanks.”
“Cup of tea and more painkillers for you. Fresh towels in the bathroom if you want to shower. No hurry. Come down whenever. Or stay in bed all day.” Suzie gave Josie’s shoulder a squeeze before leaving.
Josie’s eyes filled with tears of combined gratitude, confusion and downright terror as she recalled the events of the previous night.
What the hell was going on?
Her phone on the nightstand was flashing its little notification light.
David.
She grabbed it, hands trembling.
Please let there be a text from him.
There was a text.
It was from him.
Hey, kiddo. Yep, I’m in Sydney, remember? Heading to the pub to watch footie. What’s up? Had a text from Suze, something about a bike accident? Let me know you’re okay XD
Josie let out a strangled noise, somewhere between joy and anguish. Then her face crumpled, tears rolling down her face.
So many days and nights, she had begged the universe for a do-over, a chance to turn back the clock and have her brother back.
To never have gone to stupid Hawaii in the first place for the wedding.
To be able to hang out in a pub with him again, drink too much and laugh themselves silly.
And for David to fulfill his potential as a fine man, and hopefully even become a husband and a father one day.
And there he was, texting like nothing happened. Clearly, for him, nothing had.
Wiping her tears away with her fingers, she shakily typed a reply.
It’s all okay, I’m fine. I had bit of a bike crash on way to b’day drinks, then nasty dream you died! Needed to reconnect. Love you, big bro. When seeing you next? Jx
She stared at the screen, hoping for a quick reply. It came after a minute.
Ahhh, ya big idiot. Luv you too, softie. You’re still coming home for Xmas, right? And no Amazon gift vouchers this time! As you’ll be there in person, we want real presents. Amazing ones. :D x
So, she was supposed to be seeing him at Christmas. That was still weeks away.
She tapped her Gmail app and found the “Travel” folder she’d set up years ago. There it was, a British Airways flight, flying out 20 December, returning December 28. The dates were changeable.
She had to see David as soon as possible.
And right now, the UK was the only thing that made any sense. Because this New York was apparently not the same New York as yesterday.
Suddenly all Josie craved was being at her childhood home in Cornwall, surrounded by family, including the brother she’d thought was dead. She wouldn’t believe it until she set eyes on him.
She typed another text.
Actually thinking of coming early, spending more time with you. When do you get back to London? Not to worry about me. I’m physically fine, just a bit shaken up. I’m staying at S&D’s now. Any gift requests? Jx
His reply was instant.
Glad you’re okay, and sure, I’d love to have you stay longer. Back on 8th, short trip this time. You can stay with me for party times in Londinium before going to Mum’s for Xmas, if you like. Lemme know. XD
Josie would love nothing more in the world than to stay in London with her brother. She looked back at the flight email, then scrolled through the inbox. What about her husband?
There was nothing from Rob. Neither texts nor email. It was like he didn’t exist. She banished the thought of Suzie’s reaction when Josie had mentioned Rob. She carried on scrolling. Also nothing from Mike and Hans, who always used her personal number for social stuff.
There were lots of emails from Suzie, but not about anything she recognized, aside from things about the twins or Donald. And their recent social plans were more frequent than Josie remembered. And more Brooklyn-based.
There were also lots of recent messages from friends at the choir, and some from the director about rehearsals and forthcoming gigs.
But she’d given that up years ago. Yet, according to this, she was still an active member of Sound Eclectic, and due to sing carols at a children’s hospice next week.
That must be why this Peter guy was so familiar with her.
She kept reading the email history, hoping she’d start recognizing some messages. Or something that might tell her why her life was so different to what she recalled.
Josie returned to the travel folder, hoping for a shortcut to the answer.
The most recent trips were at the top. “Biarritz Sept 2017” was the first, which corresponded with those vacation photos.
Then “London December 2016” — so, she had gone home for Christmas last year, too.
Then “Vermont April 2016,” which revealed she had gone on a girl’s spa weekend, a treat from Suzie, apparently.
Josie did remember Suzie offering her that trip, but she’d had plans with Rob, so Suzie had taken another friend.
Below that folder was “Italy June 2015,” which, looking at Instagram, looked like a fantastic holiday with Mum in Venice — again, Josie had no memory of it.
That would have been about seven months after she met Rob.
Josie recalled telling him how much she wanted to go to Venice, and he’d promised they’d go one day.
Below the Italy folder was “Barcelona September 2014” with David, Laura, her husband Adam, and their then-five-month-old son Theo. Now, that trip, Josie remembered. She did go on that holiday.
She thanked herself for being disorganized enough not to clear out her main inbox.
It was full of history. Josie went back to the period when she met Rob — her thirty-third birthday, November 2014 — and it was clear that all the emails before that date related to her previous life.
The one she remembered. Anything after her thirty-third birthday, she couldn’t. Why?
Yet there were some discrepancies.
Her termination notice and severance pay from Crain’s in March 2015 was still there, even though that was after she met Rob.
However, instead of the Halstein & Faust job offer and contract emails, she came across a group of messages from Talk New York radio station, inviting her first to an interview, then making her a job offer as real estate radio show host and online reporter.
She recognized the name of the manager, Abby Crawford, from the green phone’s contacts. That must be her boss.
Except that wasn’t her job. She worked in communications at Halstein & Faust, and her manager was Mike Jones.
But Rob got her the interview with Mike. So, if she had never met Rob . . .
Josie recalled the day they met so clearly.
It was her birthday, three years ago, 30 November 2014 — the day she’d gone to a real estate conference at the W Hotel.
She hadn’t met him until that evening, but the whole day was still crystal clear in her mind.
She remembered that sunny morning, crisp and cold, as she rode Electra from her tiny Murray Hill place down to Union Square.
She had been singing a tune as she cruised down Second and turned onto 25th, actually right through the intersection where she’d had her accident yesterday.
Then, she’d narrowly missed a group of Baruch College students who had stepped off the sidewalk.
Wait . . . that was weird. Could that intersection be a coincidence? That moment of almost crashing?
What if something had happened there, which had prevented her from getting to the conference?
If she’d crashed at that moment, if she’d gone home or to hospital, she would have never made it to the conference.
She wouldn’t have met Rob. She wouldn’t have gotten an interview with Mike at H&F, so she would have had to get a different job — the radio station.
She remained single, so she went to Venice with Mum.
She didn’t marry Rob, so she didn’t quit the choir.
No wedding in Hawaii. David really was still alive. Charlie too.
Josie was in a life where she hadn’t married Rob.
How was this even possible? It wasn’t, of course. Was Josie just going nuts? Been watching too many episodes of Fringe?
She stared at the beach print on the wall ahead of her but saw only images of her life as she knew it. Her incredible, kind, handsome husband. Their beautiful home, in a tower he had named after her, on Union Square.
If by some impossible truth she had really been flung into a life where she’d never met Rob, that would mean she also didn’t live with Rob on Union Square.
So where did she live?
Suzie had said it would take Donald a few minutes to pick up some clothes. It must be in Brooklyn.
Back in Gmail, she spotted a folder “Williamsburg flat buying 2015.”
Thank you, alternate Josie.