Chapter 15
Christmas and New Year
“Darlings! I’m so glad you’re both here safe.”
Her mother was lit up by the porch lamps either side of the wreath-festooned double front door of Josie’s childhood home.
As elegant as ever in her flowing Indian-patterned dress, her mum had hardly let Josie get out of the car before hugging her, then holding Josie back to scrutinize her, as if to assess her amnesia.
Josie clamped down the guilt that was pushing its way to the surface, reminding herself memory loss was a much easier story for her family to swallow than the truth.
“How are you feeling? No headaches? Dizziness?”
“I’m fine, Mum. Honestly. I’ve lost some memories, that’s all. The brain is a weird thing. But lots of amnesiacs go about their lives perfectly fine.”
Josie wondered, not for the first time, whether any of those other amnesiacs were also from an alternate timeline, who weren’t admitting to it either.
“Hi, Mum, thanks, yes, I’m fine, don’t mind me,” David grumbled, as he pulled the cases from the trunk.
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with you, dear boy.” She absently kissed his cheek. “Laura and Theo are in the playroom, and Adam’s napping. Poor man’s exhausted, they drove eight hours to get down here.”
Josie’s mother ushered them across the gravel drive and into the warm, light-filled home. It was a gracious white-stucco house that, in daylight, offered sweeping views of the rugged North Cornwall coast from the gardens at the back. It was still Josie’s favorite place in the world.
Dumping cases and bags of gifts on the elaborately tiled floor of the foyer, David and Josie headed straight down to the basement playroom.
“Bosie!” Laura jumped up when she saw her sister, giving her a big hug, as little Theo dragged a wooden train awkwardly across thick carpet toward them. “How are you? How are you feeling?” Like their mother, Laura studied Josie closely.
“I’m fine,” Josie told her, getting watery around the eyes. She distracted herself by crouching down to her nephew’s level.
“I bet you don’t recognize him, if you’ve lost nearly three years,” Laura mused, sitting down on the carpet beside them. “The size of him now! Such a shame you’ve lost memories of him being a baby. When was the last time you remember him?”
Crap. Josie hadn’t thought this through.
As far as she was concerned, she’d only seen Theo four months ago at Laura’s house in Sussex, when she and Rob had overnighted in the UK on their way to a real estate expo in Geneva. Theo looked hardly any different.
Laura saw Josie’s confusion, interpreting it as the amnesia. “Our trip to Barcelona?” she prompted. “Three-and-a-bit years ago? He was only a few months old then.”
“That must be it,” Josie told her, staring at Theo, who’d stopped to say hello but was now playing trains happily with David. Josie filed the image away.
“I only remember meeting him twice, right after he was born, of course, when I stayed with you — and then, yeah, Barcelona. It’s all . . . muddled after that.”
The lies were making her feel queasy.
Josie turned to her sister, adding, “Theo’s so big. He talks now. And he remembers me.”
“Yeah, of course he does, silly. Well, he saw you on your way to your Biarritz with David. That was only in September. You stayed with us overnight as you had an early flight from Gatwick. Before that, we saw you the Christmas before, in David’s flat. Did David tell you about that?”
Josie nodded, swallowing, not wanting to prolong the conversation, as it would only result in more lies or half-truths. Her throat was dry.
She got up, stiff from her crouching position, her body not completely healed from the accident. “I could murder a cup of tea. See you upstairs?”
“In a minute. I have to wake Adam. He’s taking a nap. It’ll be dinner soon.”
Josie climbed the steps back to the main floor, grabbed her suitcase from the hallway, and started up the staircase, the bannister overloaded with a faux-pine Christmas garland.
She called down to her mother in the kitchen. “Am I in the blue room, Mum?” Josie had inherited her penchant for themed rooms from her mother.
“Of course, darling. Be down at quarter past, won’t you, to help me finish dinner?”
“Absolutely.”
Josie took her case to the blue room. It was a different room from the bedroom she’d grown up in.
That was in the converted attic and was now her mother’s office.
The blue room, always considered the fanciest guest room, was wallpapered in an elaborate pattern of peacocks, trees, and pagodas in greens and blues, and furnished in a rich blue color scheme, from the bedspread, pillows and curtains, to the plush chair by the huge window.
The blue sometimes seemed to extend out of the window to the sky and slice of sea visible from this side of the house, but at that moment it was dark outside.
Josie smiled. On the dressing table by the window, Josie’s mother had put a mini-Christmas tree with tiny white lights, which were reflected back in the mirror.
She flopped back onto the bed, closing her eyes.
Perhaps it was going to be okay after all.
Through the open door, she could hear David and their mother laughing in the kitchen.
She listened intently as Laura brought little Theo up the stairs, past her bedroom door, and up the last flight to the larger attic bedroom that had once been their playroom.
“Let’s go and wake Daddy,” Laura whispered. “Shall we jump on his bed? That’ll be funny, won’t it?”
Despite everything, Josie felt wonderful. As long as nobody asked her any questions, she’d be fine. More than fine. David laughed again. This was heaven.
Finally, she heaved herself off the huge bed to unpack and hang up the array of holiday outfits she’d brought with her, including a blue dress she’d bought at the airport to wear on New Year’s Eve, when she and David would be back in London.
She was due to fly home to New York a couple of days later.
She didn’t even want to think about that.
Josie changed into a green sweater, brushed her hair and headed back downstairs. She found her family in the kitchen, Theo eating yogurt at the central island, his little bare feet dangling off the edge.
Her mother was at the stove. “There you are. We have to decorate the tree after dinner. I was waiting for you all to get here. I couldn’t stand it up by myself. The one they delivered this year is enormous.”
“Do you need me to bring the decorations down?” Josie asked.
“I’ve done it, and Adam’s got the tree in the stand — he’s putting up all the lights now. Help him, would you? Dinner’s under control.”
Josie went into the living-dining room, taking a moment to admire the high ceiling with its restored crown moldings.
The room stretched from the tall bay window at the front through to French doors at the back of the house, which led out to a stone terrace.
It was more elegantly furnished than when she was a child, her mother having spent much of her father’s life insurance on renovations.
A huge tree was in place in the front bay window, and Laura’s husband, Adam, was on a stepladder, pushing a hand through his curly hair as he fixed the lights. Underneath him were two large boxes, with “XMAS TREE DEX” scrawled in Josie’s teenage handwriting. The words brought a lump to her throat.
“Hey, Ad.”
Adam turned his head and nodded at her. “Perfect timing. I need someone to turn the lights on, tell me if they’re even.”
Josie crossed the room, picked up the control and switched on the lights.
“Ta-da!” It did look Christmassy. She stepped back to assess the distribution of sparkliness. “There’s a cluster near the top on the left — no . . . Yes! Better.”
“Okay, turn them off.” Adam jumped down onto the floor. He came over and hugged her. “All right? We can do the official ceremony when the baubles are on.”
Dinner was a lively affair, with David taking most of the attention, as usual, regaling them with tales of “totally rad” waves off Australia’s Gold Coast and buddies who worked at some investment bank in Sydney.
Laura, having put Theo to bed, talked about her son’s new friends at playgroup, including rumors from the staff that he’d given little Emily a kiss in the Lego room.
After dinner, Josie and her brother volunteered to wash the dishes while Laura and Adam unpacked the decorations from the boxes.
“How you feeling, sis?”
David stood waiting with a tea towel while Josie rinsed a casserole dish in the farmhouse sink.
She looked out of the window. Usually there would be a view of the lawned garden and the coastline beyond, but what was now reflected back was a picture she’d much rather see — her and David, side by side, doing dishes in their family home.
She stared for a moment, almost fearful that if she turned, her brother would evaporate.
She took a deep breath and handed the cast-iron dish to him.
“Everything’s a muddle. I’m so confused.
” Josie turned to face him. “But being here, with you, with everybody, it’s wonderful.
It’s making me feel so much better. New York is weird for me now.
I don’t know my job, or my home. Being here is the only thing that makes any sense. ”
David finished drying and threw his arms around his sister.
“You’ll be fine. You love your flat, you’ll get used to it again — and you love your radio job too.
You’re brilliant at it. Plus, there’s your choir, which you enjoy too, right?
” He pulled back to look at her. “New York has always been your dream, and you’re making it.
And if you can make it there . . . Well, you remember how that goes. Don’t give up on it.”
Josie nodded as David stepped away. “You’re right. I’m still processing, I guess.”
“Ach! You said that with an American accent! Pro-cessing? You Yank . . .” David twirled his wet tea towel into a whip. “You better run . . .”