Chapter1
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. Canceled flight red.You’re-not-going-anywherered.
“Nothing?” She gripped the counter. “Are you seriously telling me nothing is flying?”
“That’s right. Blame the weather. 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 beenavoiding 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. “Ihaveto 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 sayingfirst-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.”
Whatcanwe 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 unmistakable “—nothing is flying. Have you considered taking a train?”
“The trains are on strike.” It was as if the entire public transport system 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 travelers 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 had 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 favorite. 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 insistingjust one more game of Scrabble, Beckyand thewarm, comforting weight of their ancient Irish setter Percy as he lay on her feet.
She felt homesick for Northumberland with its vast starry skies, 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 leastsomeoneseemed 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?”
