And a soulmate, I think, a smile surfacing on my lips.I have a soulmate, too.
‘Josh,’ I say. And then, because I can’t quite believe I have managed to form a word, I repeat it, louder this time. ‘Josh.’
All my senses are suddenly primed. Summer tumbles through the propped-open window, a hot, bright light. The scent of freshly chopped grass and roses in bloom, laundry billowing on the breeze.
How long have I been asleep?
‘I need to talk to you both.’ My throat creaks a little before my voice locates its groove. ‘I’ve been thinking about something that happened, thirty-three years ago.’
Emma gasps and covers her mouth, tears clinging to the edges of her eyes.
I grab her pale, slim hand and try to squeeze it, though I barely have the strength. ‘Don’t cry, darling.’
She just shakes her head, seemingly unable to reply.
‘Rachel,’ Josh says softly. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘I’m tired,’ I say, with a laugh that rattles. ‘So very tired.’
It’s lovely to see him again. I admit, I sometimes envied his youth, over the years. His sharp jaw and firm limbs, the little belts of muscle. Skin still taut, hair resolutely dark. How his bones and blood remained healthy, his mind new. The way sunlight on his face always made him look younger and not older.
Yes, I have wanted all that. If only for a snatched moment, from time to time. Being young isn’t better, necessarily. But sometimes, it is easier.
And here is Emma, too. My gorgeous, golden girl, who glows so hard she can warm any room.
I squeeze her hand more firmly now. ‘Listen. I need you to hear this. Both of you.’ I clear my throat, attempt to still the jump in my stomach. ‘There was a night that year, in August, when Josh and I... Do you remember, Josh?’
As Josh brings his gaze to mine, I know he does. Not fully, perhaps, not yet – but I can see the faint heat of recollection is there, like a pulse.
‘Lawrence and I had had a row. And I came to your flat, and we drank a whole bottle of brandy. The one you’d bought your mum, for her birthday.’
Realisation begins to inch across his face. ‘Yeah. That’s right. Messy night.’
‘Very messy night. I threw up in your kitchen sink the next day. Twice.’
He laughs softly. ‘I’d forgotten about that. Had to... never mind.’
‘Anyway, we woke up fully clothed in different beds, so we ended up deciding... that nothing had happened.’
Josh shifts in his chair. He glances at Emma, then back at me.
‘But something did happen.’
Neither of them speaks.
Emma’s face has become rigid, almost translucent. She is sitting up very straight, her stomach huge and boulder-like in her lap.
‘I think you should get a DNA test.’
‘Oh, my God,’ Josh breathes. His knuckles blanch as he grips the seat of his chair, veins leaping on the tops of his hands.
‘That night came back to me, in a kind of dream.’ I meet his gaze, draw it close. ‘We did sleep together. You might not remember, but I do.’
Emma puts one hand to her stomach and the other to her mouth.
‘No, Rachel. You wouldn’t have wanted that.’ Josh’s voice is darting everywhere, like a leaf on a breeze. ‘You and Lawrence—’
‘I know. But I need you to take a test. Just... promise me you’ll take a test.’
