Becky felt horribly flat. Not gloomy exactly, but close to it.
Christmas was going to be different. And not in a good way, at least for her.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to go at all.
But if she stayed in London she’d break her mother’s heart. And very possibly her own. Also, she needed to check out this woman Jamie had met. Turned out the sibling bond was stronger than the need for self-preservation.
She’d be okay. Her superpower was hiding her feelings, not just from other people but also from herself. She worked on the principle that if you didn’t acknowledge something, then you could pretend it wasn’t there.
She zipped up her hoodie, tightened the laces on her winter boots and clomped her way through the terminal building, dragging her large suitcase and dodging passengers as she followed the signs for car rental. Thanks to the party her flatmate had thrown the night before, she was tired (she’d worn earplugs, but still the entire building had vibrated), and the last thing she needed was to navigate pre-Christmas traffic for seven hours or longer, but it seemed she didn’t have a choice. If necessary, she’d pull over and take a nap.
She almost laughed.
She was twenty-eight years old and, if she was to believe the article she’d read on her phone the week before, in the prime of her life. If she hadn’t been told, she wouldn’t have known. She didn’t feel as if she was in the prime of anything.
She’d started a new job eight months earlier and so far it wasn’t going well. She was good at what she did and had no problems with the job itself, but in this new place being good at your job wasn’t enough. You had to socialize. It wasn’t about the work, it was about schmoozing with the right people. She hated playing those complicated political games and she wasn’tgood at it, mostly because she wasn’t interested. Taking the job had been a mistake, she could see that now. One of many she’d made lately.
These days even home was stressful, because she was no longer living with her sister and she’d underestimated how hard that would be. She’d always known she’d miss her, at least at first, but not this much.
She paused just long enough to buy herself a strong coffee, hoping it might give her flagging energy a boost. Juggling suitcase, scarf and coffee, she walked past a giant Christmas tree glowing with lights and no doubt designed to put people in a festive mood. Twinkling stars cascaded from the roof of the terminal building. Most people were too desperate about the travel situation to take any comfort from twinkling stars. What they wanted was transport. No one was where they wanted to be.
It felt like a metaphor for her life.
It crossed her mind briefly that if Rosie and Declan hadn’t yet left, she could grab a ride with them, but she dismissed the thought instantly. She wasn’t a good passenger at the best of times, and being trapped in the car with those two lovebirds would finish her off. Christmas would be bad enough. She didn’t need a preview.
As the woman had predicted, the queue for car rental was long and crackling with impatience and tension.
The man and the woman in front of her were locked in an argument.
“What if we make it to the front and there are no cars left?”
Good question, Becky thought.What then?
“They will have cars.”
“You don’t know that. Look at the length of the queue! I think we should head out of London and try somewhere less busy.”
Becky considered that suggestion even though it hadn’t been directed at her.
Maybe that wasn’t the worst idea. But what if she did that and there were still no cars? She’d be stranded outside London. No, she was staying put and hoping for some luck.
Honestly, could things be any worse?
“Becky?”
The deep voice almost made her drop her coffee.
Oh no. Please no.
She conjured up a smile—if the woman behind the check-in desk could do it then so could she—and turned.
He stood directly behind her, drawing interested glances from the many bored women standing in the queue.
“Will! This is a surprise. What are you doing here?”
He was living proof of the fact that just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, they got worse.
“Same as you I imagine. I was hoping for a quick journey home, but it doesn’t look as if that’s going to happen.” He pulled her in for a hug, which was a standard greeting between them, and it gave her a chance to bury her very red face in his coat.
