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Chapter 2 (#ulink_063ed644-664d-5e3c-9687-5494de6da001)
The first time I found myself face to face with Josh it ignited a spark that put everything else in the shade. More important, even, than the moment we first said ‘I love you’ to each other, because at that point we already knew in our hearts it was a done deal. We just hadn’t spoken the words out loud, as if it was tempting fate and something might happen to spoil our happiness. By then we were living together, but our first trip to Paris took our relationship to a whole new level.
~
‘Ellie, head for that one.’ Josh tilted his head and I followed his gaze. Then I sprinted ahead. Pulling open the taxi door I threw my bag in first and leapt in after it, sliding across the back seat to make room for Josh. He bundled in behind me, forcing the large holdall onto our laps.
We started to laugh, nervous relief taking over as the driver waited patiently to hear our destination.
‘English?’ Josh enquired, hopefully,
‘Non. A leetle, meybee.’ The driver shrugged his shoulders.
‘Désolé, j’ai l’adresse quelque part.’ It was a brave attempt on Josh’s part and I gave him an encouraging smile.
After much fumbling in pockets, Josh finally held up his hand, thrusting a piece of paper bearing the address of our hotel across to the driver, who nodded. Settling back in our seats, the car sped along avenues and over crossroads, cutting down side streets. We stared in awe at the tantalising glimpses of Parisian life, seen up close for the first time. The driver’s hand seemed to be constantly on the horn as he kept up a low mumble of complaint. When he dropped us off we had no idea how much he was asking for and Josh had bravely stuffed a note into his hand. The driver’s face broke out into a small smile and we guessed that Josh had given him a big tip. He rammed the car into gear and sped away in haste, no doubt worried Josh would change his mind.
Standing on the kerb outside that hotel, Josh pulled me into his arms and lifted me high into the air. Spinning me around until my head became dizzy, I knew I was completely safe in his grasp.
‘We’re here! I love you so much, Ellie, and we’re going to have a fabulous time.’
As I looked down at his face I could see an expression of pure joy. Nothing could dent or spoil the exhilaration of being in the city of lovers.
When we unlocked the door to our room, the acrid smell of fresh paint and new carpet was unexpected. The room had been cleansed of any memories and was like a blank page in a book that had been waiting for us to begin writing a new chapter in it. Did Paris realise that something very special was about to happen?
The ornately carved French doors opened out onto a tiny balcony. They were open to air the room and the summer breeze was playing with the curtains, wafting them gently back and forth. As the deliciously cool air circulated around the room, it carried with it the tantalising smell of freshly baked bread from the hotel kitchens below. I can clearly recall the murmur of distant traffic and voices trilling in the background. It served to remind us how decadent it was to be lying in bed making love on that warm summer’s afternoon.
Even now, all these years later, I can still close my eyes and recapture the magic of those passionate and thrilling days together in Paris. The smell of summer had been heady and the playful breeze had made my skin cool to the touch, a pleasant sensation after the warmth our bodies had created. I clearly remember looking at Josh as he lay sprawled across the bed diagonally, looking deliciously sexy. I wanted to squeal with joy, ‘You’re mine and I’m yours!’
It was the moment when I knew I had nothing to fear. I could trust Josh with everything – my heart, my innermost thoughts – the real me that I often kept hidden. In return he was prepared to lay bare his own emotions. That was when I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that we were soul mates.
However, that was a time when I truly believed you could have only one soul mate. I was young and naive, assuming that those blessed with that one-in-a-million connection had been chosen and it was destiny. Nothing could hinder the plan that life had laid out for me and that was the first glimpse of my future. A surge of power coursed through me, as if nothing could touch us because it was meant to be. Together we were one, cocooned by the strength of our love.
~
The balcony looked out over the Cimetière de Montmartre. It sounds grim, but walking among the graves and tombstones later that day we didn’t sense death, but the perpetuity of life. A reminder that we each add something to future generations who share the same genes. It signalled a prelude to new beginnings and the knowledge that we would both have a hand in shaping our future.
Life was heady and intoxicating as each new, shared discovery served to confirm that we were made for each other. Moving in together had been a big step in the eyes of our respective families, but for us it was simply the next step.
And afternoon love in that wonderful little room in Paris, fresh and crisp from the refurbishment, gave an air of newness to everything. Like a dream, time seemed to slow down and each second became meaningful, rather than merely one brief moment ticking by.
Always foot-weary, we were glad to go back to the hotel to avoid the midday sun, arms full of sun-ripened fruit, croissants and French pastries. Decadent food for decadent afternoons.
Our walks took us to the artists’ quarter of Montmartre, where we watched the painters effortlessly recreating every imaginable scene. From a beautiful vista of lush meadows filled with wheat and poppies, to a drawing of a peasant enjoying a rustic meal outside a humble dwelling. The sights, sounds and smells were an experience in themselves as we walked along arm in arm.
We mocked each other as we struggled to speak the language with an air of confidence. Our poor attempts to imitate that smooth, low and amazingly sexy French drawl were met with raised eyebrows that made us laugh even more. The people we met warmed to us, as they do to all young couples who are so obviously in love.
Vivid in my memory, still, is the evening we walked from the hotel up to the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur. Churches had always fascinated me, but I wasn’t sure whether Josh would understand that. As our pace slowed and the incline started to bite on our already tired calf muscles, there was a tangible feeling of something magical around us. Whether it was the dark, velvety-blue sky with a mass of twinkling stars surrounding us like a cloak, as we climbed higher and higher, I don’t know. Or perhaps we were simply falling under the spell of Paris. The imposing building with its huge domes that rose up before us was a stark white contrast against the heavenly background. Nothing else existed that night.
When we finally reached the church I had to place my hand on the stonework to reassure myself it was real. There were very few people around; most were at home preparing dinner, or sitting in restaurants waiting to be served. As we entered the church itself a small group of people came hurrying towards us.
‘Bonsoir,’ they chorused as we passed them and continued on inside. It was deserted and serenely tranquil.
‘When a church is empty the space feels holy, truly hallowed ground. It isn’t tainted by the negativity of people, or the games they play and the lies they tell. It feels different, as if it has a life of its own; a shrine to the devotion and love of the craftsmen who toiled to bring the vision alive. Can you feel it too?’ I’d held my breath, as if it was a test I needed Josh to pass.
Embarrassed and wishing I hadn’t blurted out my thoughts, I’d turned to face him. He was looking up at the tall, vaulted ceiling, his head tipped back. He made no move to speak and we stood side by side, entranced as we took in the grandeur and magnificence of the building.
‘It has to be a church wedding. It feels right,’ he said suddenly, turning slightly to look down into my eyes.
‘A church wedding?’ I repeated, my heart pounding so loudly, the colour started to rise in my cheeks.
‘I love you and I know nothing will ever come between us. But I’d forgotten about the sense of history and tradition churches hold within their walls. That’s what I want for us on our wedding day.’
I was stunned and could not speak. We were both overwhelmed by a mystical sense of presence, endorsement and destiny. Josh amazed me. Not only did he understand, but he was prepared to open himself up, despite the very natural feeling of vulnerability I saw reflected in his eyes. We’d hugged each other so tightly it hurt, relishing what we knew was a special moment.
Touring the building in a comfortable silence, we stopped to read the inscriptions on the plaques and carved stone memorials. It seemed fitting to offer up our silence as a mark of respect to those who had gone before. We didn’t break it until we were, once more, outside under the inky blackness of the late-evening sky.
‘Food, wine and music I think!’ Josh had exclaimed, squeezing my hand lovingly. ‘The world is ours.’
I laughed, stealing a moment to glimpse back over my shoulder and grab one final glance at the Sacré-Cœur. I knew I was imprinting the moment on my mind forever.
‘It looks like a wedding cake,’ I whispered.
‘It’s a sign,’ Josh laughed, then covered my face in soft little kisses.
‘It looks unreal and yet we’re here, up close.’
‘Well, I’m glad you made me take the climb.’ He began humming an old French song we’d heard earlier in the day. He started to sway, grabbing my hand and raising it above my head to twirl me around. And then he dropped down onto one knee and, with a tremor in his voice, he said the words. ‘Marry me, Ellie.’
Paris had worked its magic and if you can’t be lovers in Paris, then you have no romance in your soul. But I also knew that Paris had taken us to her heart because she, too, recognised when fate had chosen two people to be together for eternity. But that was back when life was simpler, much simpler.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_c19e23df-4b95-5c5e-ad20-4faa4fac35e7)
Our wedding day was perfect. In between showers of warm, summer rain it was a day made for happiness. Our friends and family were overjoyed to celebrate with us and no one really wanted the party to end. As Josh and I circulated, whenever we brushed past each other we linked fingers for the briefest of moments, eyes seeking each other out with a smile that came from the heart. Discreetly mouthing ‘I love you’ to each other, before moving on to receive congratulations and hugs from those around us. How strange that on your wedding day you spend most of the time with other people, grabbing as many tantalising moments together as you can before being pulled away. But the happiness was tangible and infectious, reminding everyone that life, when it’s good, is very good.
However, the path of life isn’t smooth and tragedy was to come our way. My first pregnancy ended in miscarriage in the fifth month. The grief was overwhelming, but drew us closer together in a way that few can truly understand unless they have suffered a similar loss. It was a time of mourning and that was difficult, not least because we needed it to be private. Those close to us were not allowed inside the tight little box we created around our emotions. To the world we stayed strong, but alone we were distraught and trying desperately to mend our broken hearts.
Marrying so young I’d barely finished my internship with a large interior design company, Westings Interiors, before Josh swept me off my feet. I had taken a little time off after the miscarriage, but quickly settled back into my work routine and put all thoughts of having a baby aside. Then the unexpected news that I was pregnant again came out of the blue. It seemed that fate was smiling upon us once more and as we didn’t want to take any risks. I gave up work when I was at the twenty-week stage. I don’t think either of us relaxed until the moment we finally held Hettie in our arms.
Two years later we welcomed our youngest daughter, Rosie, into the world and she was the bonus that made our little family complete. Whilst nothing would replace the baby we had lost, our lives were rich and full because of our loving daughters. We thanked God every single day for the joy they brought us. We commiserated with each other just as regularly over the sleepless nights and the angst that comes with being a parent. But we managed to survive all of that and our love has grown because of the things we’ve been through together. We’ve weathered our little storms well and hope that it was more by judgement than sheer luck that the girls have turned out so well.
Josh hasn’t been just a husband and a lover, but a friend and confidante. I’ve always shared things with him rather than my mother, when she was alive, or girlfriends. I realised, of course, that was unusual and maybe even a little hurtful to some people, at times. But that reflected the true nature of our relationship. It has given me a growing sense of unease over the years, because it set us apart from every other couple we knew.
We became introvertly self-sufficient, each giving the other everything they needed. When those around us came to me to pour out their hearts and trust me with their biggest fears, I couldn’t do the same in return. I’ve seen a number of very good friends though a difficult divorce, close-family deaths and child-rearing woes. However, I’m conscious that there is a line I have drawn about what I’m prepared to share. Does anyone notice that I hold back and do they realise that Josh is my number-one friend, above all others? Does that make me any less of a friend to them?
I sometimes feel like a complete fraud, as if I should say, ‘You don’t know everything about me, does that matter to you?’ They think they know me, of course, but the simple truth is that they only see what I allow them to see. I find that most people are grateful to have someone who will listen to them; someone who cares enough to hear what they are saying and feel their pain. Often, all they need is a hug, or to let loose that inner turmoil by finally hearing themselves uttering the words. Once shared, it’s a form of release and they are suddenly free to move on. I’m a listener, a hugger and a shoulder to cry on.
But my shoulder to cry on is Josh, because the truth is that I don’t need anyone else. Since that fateful day … it’s not that I love him any less than I did, it’s more complicated than that. Naturally he senses, and has done for a while, that something has changed in me, but he can’t verbalise it. I’m too afraid to break my silence, partly because I’m not sure I could explain what is happening to me. I don’t really understand it myself, but I do know that I now fear I am losing my grip on reality. Or rather, what is real as opposed to what exists solely in my mind.
But I’m talking about before all of that happened; the years when life was somehow more straightforward, despite what fate had to throw at us. We knew some of the knocks we would experience in life would be hard to take, but youth gives one a feeling of invincibility. It’s only as you grow older that you begin to see things differently. Worry begins to hover around you, like a threatening rain cloud on an otherwise bright and sunny day.
For our seventh wedding anniversary we had a party and it also marked the end of the first month in our new, much bigger, home.
‘Beware the seven-year itch, my friend. It comes to us all,’ Nathan, Josh’s boss had joked, slapping him on the back. ‘It suddenly hits you that you’re in for the long haul and that mortgage begins to feel like an increasingly heavy burden. The family grows, you need more space and then you find the home of your dreams. Now you get to spend the rest of your life paying it off. You realise that freedom is something you took for granted in the dim and distant past.’
His wife, the lovely Liz, had pulled a face.
‘So kind of you to share your utterly depressing thoughts, Nathan.’ Her eyes had flashed him a look of amusement, but I noticed a worrying trace of disapproval lurking behind her smile. ‘We’re lucky we’ve survived; many don’t. Yes, it’s hard bringing up a family and it’s only natural there are times when we all long to take a break from everyday life. But if you were still single now, you’d be way out of control.’ Was there a hint of reluctant acceptance in her softly spoken words?
‘Ah, behind every successful man there is a woman,’ Josh spoke up, conscious that the silly banter was in danger of getting out of hand.
Nathan had downed the remainder of his drink in one. ‘I thought the saying was that behind every successful man is a woman, and behind her is his wife.’
Everyone had laughed at that point, because we were all unaware at the time of the cracks in what had seemed like a very solid relationship. But within a year of that conversation, their marriage was over and Nathan began the first in a string of disastrous hook-ups. As for us, Hettie was five years old by then, and Rosie had just turned three. We had joined in that conversation good-naturedly, too tired from disturbed nights and the strains of the house move to read any more into it. Rosie had way too much energy to sleep for more than a couple of hours at a stretch. She was this endless bundle of activity, stopping only when she was exhausted. Often she would fall asleep in the middle of eating a meal, or suddenly curl up on the floor, toy in hand. Who had the energy to even have an itch, we wondered? Certainly not us. I had no idea if Josh worried about it, but we continued to sail through each anniversary and our love was strong and unwavering. The only worry in my mind was what would I do if I ever lost Josh? What if one of us died prematurely? I knew it worried him too, but we chose to never voice those concerns.
Life was ruled by the usual day-to-day family highs and lows, as we negotiated our way through temper tantrums and growing pains. Rosie had just started nursery school and she loved it, blossoming in an environment of play activity and making new friends. By then Josh had been promoted and was running the entire IT section. His week was busy and he often worked long hours, but weekends were family time.
I lost touch with most of my work colleagues as the years continued to fly by, but one of the other interns, Olivia Bradley, remained my one very close friend. Our lives were, and are still, so very different, but that’s partly why my friendship with Livvie works so well. I think we can see in each other the life we didn’t choose, if that makes any sense. There, but for the grace of God, go I. It helps to reaffirm that the individual paths we chose were ultimately the right ones for us.
Livvie thinks children and marriage are overrated. She now lives in a pristinely perfect, designer home, which is spread over three levels and clings to the side of a valley. A few times over the years she’s come to stay for the weekend, but I always feel awkward as it’s hard to keep the house quiet with a constant throng of girls parading through it. Livvie went on to have a single, but exciting, life and now runs her own interior-design company named Bradley’s Design Creative. She works very closely with a building company in which she has a part share. If a client wants their house remodelled before the interior is redesigned, then Livvie oversees the whole project. Of course, I probably flatter myself thinking that Livvie had the life I would have had if I hadn’t met Josh. Would I have been that successful? I doubt it. But when I told her I was thinking of returning to work she had immediately offered me a job.
‘You must come and work for me, Ellie,’ she’d cooed down the phone and I envied her that calm, sultry, yet professional, voice. I was used to being a drill sergeant at home and having to talk just that little bit higher and louder than two noisy girls, and a husband with a distinctly tenor voice. I’d readjusted my pitch and tone in an attempt to bolster my flagging confidence.
‘I don’t know, Livvie, it’s very kind of you but I’m going to need some time to rediscover the, um, other side of me. I’m not sure what I have to offer. I’ve probably forgotten everything I learnt. It feels like a lifetime ago.’
‘Nonsense. Your eye for a good design is instinctive; that’s not something that can be learnt. Plus, both of the girls are at school now, so how else will you fill your day? What you have is life experience and common sense. That’s in short supply at the moment, believe me. Some of the people I employ might have really good credentials, but give them a problem and it’s instantly a crisis. I’m looking for someone with a cool head, who can make decisions and think outside the box. I’ve seen the way you boss that family of yours around and keep them on track, Ellie. Those are precisely the skills I need. You would be doing me a favour.’
I realised that was exactly why Livvie had made such a success of her business, because she was a people person. She understood what made people tick and utilised their skills in the best possible way. I knew her well enough to trust that she wouldn’t put me into a situation where I would feel I was totally out of my depth. And she was right; being at work gave me a sense of completeness and I loved it from day one. I eased myself into working three days a week, as the liaison point between the designer, clients and contractors. The job itself was perfect for me and Josh and the girls were very supportive. Within two years the business suddenly took off in a new direction when Livvie started taking on hotel refurbishment projects. As the team beneath her expanded, her time was very much focused on suppliers, staff turnover and recruitment.
Then, one fateful day, a phone call neither of us expected caused Livvie to change her plans.
REWIND ONE YEAR AND FIVE DAYS (#ulink_af3a8e6f-a190-51c8-8454-66ba150921e9)
You can’t un-see what you’ve seen and you can’t un-say what you’ve said … you can only try to limit the damage.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_2975b68e-a5a4-5855-ab9c-7dc99fc42d1f)
Livvie is due to fly out to Italy to check out a new supplier she’s keen to use. They specialise in a wide range of well-designed, artisan goods and it looks like a promising proposition. They approached her recently, offering big price incentives to become one of her regular suppliers. If she likes their set-up and everything is as good up close as it is in the brochure, this could be the start of a fast-growing relationship. As she prepares to leave the office her mobile kicks into life and I can see by the look on her face that it isn’t good news.
‘My mother’s had a fall. That was her neighbour, letting me know that the ambulance is taking Mum to the accident and emergency centre. I can’t believe it. I’m not sure what to do.’
Her eyes search mine as her head tries to process the information. I’m used to dealing with family emergencies, but for Livvie this is a first. Her father died when she was quite small; too young to have any memories attached to it, whether good or bad. This was something for which she wasn’t prepared, as Livvie’s life is all about work. Domestic traumas usually come in the form of something breaking down. She has a phone full of contacts ready to sort whatever issue threatens to interrupt her working day. Okay, it’s often at a premium, but if it isn’t important to the running of her business, then it isn’t a good use of her time. It’s merely an annoying inconvenience.
‘Drop everything. Just head off to the hospital.’
She looks at me quite blankly, as if what’s happening hasn’t quite sunk in. ‘But it’s too late to cancel the trip … the flights—’
Her face tells me exactly what she’s asking me to do and we both know there simply isn’t anyone else who can do it.
‘I’ll go in your place. You can ring me later and talk me through what I need to know before the meeting. Family comes first, Livvie, and your mum needs you to show her that.’
She’s nodding her head, but it takes her a few moments to swing into action. Grabbing a pile of papers from inside her briefcase, she thrusts them into my hands. Livvie looks shell-shocked and I wonder if she’s going to have a panic attack or something. I’ve never seen her look so unsure of herself.
‘Thank you, Ellie. But what about the girls?’
Life with a thirteen and a fifteen-year-old is all about routine and making lists so no one forgets their homework, or ballet class, or gymnastics, or that must-go-to party.
‘I’ll arrange for our neighbour, Dawn, to pick the girls up from school and stay with them until Josh arrives home. It will be fine. Just go, and drive carefully.’ I try to ignore the image of Hettie having a strop and muttering under her breath that at the grand old age of fifteen it’s about time we stopped treating her like a baby. But there’s also Rosie to consider and that two-year age difference is awkward. It causes a lot of friction between them and that’s why I need Dawn to be around, even if it’s only to keep the peace.
I give Livvie a hug and I can feel the turmoil and confusion like a ball whirling around her. It’s the reason why our lives are so different; Livvie was born with a business head and I was born with the ability to cope with family emergencies. Emotion is an annoyance to Livvie, but it’s at the heart of my existence. If I had received that phone call I would already have been in the car without a moment’s hesitation.
‘I hate hospitals. I think I’m allergic to them.’
‘I know, but your mum needs you right now, Livvie. You can do this, really you can. And don’t worry about what’s happening here. Things aren’t going to fall apart overnight.’
I’m anxious on her behalf, hardly giving a thought to the offer I’ve made so easily, as if it is nothing. Once I’m on my way home it hits me with full force. Livvie is heading into a situation for which she isn’t prepared and I, too, am about to find myself exploring unknown territory, alone. Heck, I’m not even sure I have the necessary experience to handle this on my own.
~
‘Thanks, Dawn, I feel like I’m going off on a jolly,’ I admit. Inside my head, though, there’s a battle between guilt and self-doubt raging war against each other. I realise I hadn’t given any thought at all to how the girls will react when they find out I’m going away. Josh was understandably surprised when I rang him, but when I explained the situation he put me at ease. He waved away my concern about landing him with the girls and having to make arrangements at short notice. Sitting right alongside that sensation of fear lying in the pit of my stomach was a tinge of excitement and I wondered if he had heard that reflected in my voice.
‘Josh will be home by four-thirty. To say thank you, how about you and Rich coming over for dinner on Saturday evening? Tell Rich I’ll make his favourite risotto.’ The chatter is a way of calming my nerves, which are beginning to pump adrenalin around my body at an alarming rate. I have everything crossed that the travel agent has managed to sort out the change of name for the tickets. But I know that Livvie will be on the case and she always manages to make things happen. She’s not the sort to sit and hold anyone’s hand. Instead she’ll opt to wait outside and her phone won’t leave her hand.
‘You don’t have to do that, it’s not often you ask for a favour and now Will’s at university I’ve told you, I’m free any time. Besides, the girls are fun to be around. I learn a lot.’ She chuckles and I don’t even want to think about the useless bits of information and gossip she overhears from my two.
‘You’re a great neighbour! The best, have I ever mentioned that before?’ I laugh lightly, as I continue packing the suitcase in front of me.
‘Once or twice, usually when you want something,’ she banters. ‘Have a ball! How often do you get to have an experience like this?’
‘Well, it is work, Dawn,’ I reflect, soberly. ‘There wasn’t anyone else to step in at such short notice. Livvie knew it, and I knew it, too. It’s not as if I was chosen to represent her on this trip.’
‘You know, Ellie, you don’t give yourself enough credit at times. I bet you do as much working part-time as most manage to fit into a full working week. Livvie is very lucky to have someone to rely on at a time like this.’
I hadn’t looked at it like that. Livvie is simply the sister I never had and this isn’t only about work, but friendship as well. As I wave Dawn goodbye, it’s already too late to stop what has been put in motion. But my conscience is telling me that this is about doing a good deed, or maybe paying Livvie back for putting her trust in me when I returned to work. I pushed away the fleeting thought that maybe I was grasping at a chance to have an adventure, or even to prove to everyone that I too can be that consummate professional. It isn’t something I’ve ever yearned for because my life already feels complete. I work first and foremost to benefit the family and bring in a little extra money, and secondly because it keeps me busy when the girls aren’t around. Or maybe this is fate and I’m simply a pawn, being moved from one square to another – who knows?
~
‘I’m at Heathrow and about to go in search of a cup of coffee.’ I try to keep my words even and light, which is an enormous effort given that my stomach is now churning with nerves. The last few hours have been quite stressful, but the moment I arrive at the check-in desk relief washes over me, calming me down. Part one of my journey is now ticked off on Livvie’s itinerary and I haven’t fallen at the first hurdle. Livvie would have taken this in her stride, of course, but I’m not used to travelling on my own.
‘I’m just glad to hear your voice. I miss you – we miss you. The girls want to have a quick word, but don’t hang up afterwards.’ I can hear the anxiety in Josh’s voice and the reluctance with which he hands over the phone is tangible. Going away for a couple of days on a course is one thing, but flying off to another country is something else entirely. The concern is running like an undertone beneath his words.
The girls start babbling with excitement, both of them throwing questions at the phone and talking over each other. They are clearly impressed and maybe even a little shocked by my behaviour. I mean, this is their mum, the person who is always there because that’s my real job.
‘Slow down, girls. I don’t have a lot of detail other than I’m heading for a villa just outside the town of Castrovillari. It’s in southern Italy, you know, the bit that looks like a big boot. I have no idea how hot it’s going to be when I get there and, no, I don’t think there’s going to be a swimming pool.’
Then it’s on to the mundane things, as Rosie has misplaced one of her school books. Then Hettie wants to know whether I’d be back in time to ferry her to and fro for a friend’s birthday party on Friday evening. When Josh finally wrestles the phone out of their hands his voice is in sharp contrast to the girls’ bubbling enthusiasm about my adventure.
‘Mum can’t worry about Friday evening, Hettie, I’ll sort that. Listen, Ellie, I just want you to be aware of what’s going on around you. Travelling alone isn’t ideal, darling, so please take extra special care of yourself.’ He’s emotional and I feel sad that there hadn’t been time to give him a goodbye hug.
