‘But Lexie wasn’t ever sentimental about it. Always the opposite,’ I say. ‘She said it’s just one day.’ It was what you would say about New Year’s Day, too.
‘Too right,’ Lucy says. ‘Crazy, isn’t it, the lengths we all go to. I mean, look at us – working our fingers to the bone on all these floral displays that will be gone in a couple of weeks.’ She pauses briefly. ‘And please, don’t dwell on Ryan. It’s no secret how he’s going to spend the next few days. You should let yourself enjoy your time with Ollie.’
She’s right. But I don’t know how to explain to Lucy that when Christmas morning comes, I’ll be back standing on a cliff edge. Knowing that in turning my back on Ryan, I’m forced to acknowledge what’s too painful to face. That my marriage was meaningless, that the suffering you and Ollie went through was all for nothing. That the past you were forced to endure was a charade I tried to perpetuate.
I’m grateful when Lucy changes the subject. ‘The baby’s due soon, isn’t it?’ she says.
I smile. ‘In a couple of weeks.’
‘A January baby.’ Lucy smiles.
You were a January baby too, born while the elements raged outside before the temperature dropped to sub-zero. I brought you home to snow. Have joyously celebrated all your birthdays, every year since. Until this one.
This year, I don’t decorate our house. You’re not here, Ollie will stay away. Ryan won’t be invited. Far from united, there’s a jagged, irreparable split in our family. We are broken. But we have been for years, the house scattered with little pieces of us.
But still, there are moments of joy: our delighted customers, our last day in the workshop, when Lucy and I divvy up the few remaining flowers and take them home. On Christmas Eve, when I take them with the presents I’ve wrapped and give them to Jenna.
‘Thank you. They’re beautiful.’ In spite of her recent scare, Jenna is radiant. ‘Would you like to put the presents under the tree? And I’ll pour you a glass of wine?’
‘Thanks.’ It’s so rare I ever have a drink these days. I glance around the house she’s so lovingly decorated. ‘It looks so pretty in here.’
‘Thank you.’ Her eyes are shining. ‘I can’t believe this time next year, we’ll be a family!’ Her face drops. ‘I’m sorry, Edie. It seems so tactless to say that – when I know how much you’re missing Lexie.’
‘Please,’ I reassure her. ‘It really isn’t. It’s the biggest privilege to be sharing in what you and Ollie have. I will love her, so much.’ My voice is suddenly husky as, getting up, I hug her.
I arrange my gifts under their pretty tree, then stay for a wonderful, peaceful Christmas Eve dinner with her and Ollie. We talk about the baby, the future, with love, kindness; it’s exactly how family should be.
‘Thank you.’ When I leave, I hug them both, my precious, closest family.
‘Come any time tomorrow, Mum.’ Ollie stands in the doorway as I step out into the cold.
‘Thank you. Go inside! It’s chilly out here!’ I hesitate. ‘In any case, I should get back. I want to finish my letter to Lexie.’
‘Your letter?’ Ollie sounds shocked.
As the two of us stand there, time seems to freeze, my words hanging in the air as I take in the look on Ollie’s face – of love, anxiety. Sadness.
‘Mum, it’s been nearly a year,’ he says gently. ‘Lexie’s gone.’ His voice breaks.
I stare at him, tears filling my eyes as desperation washes over me, then a feeling of the most intense sadness that cracks my heart open. ‘I know she’s gone.’ It’s like I’m talking to myself. ‘I’ve been writing to her though. I think she must be getting my letters.’
Ollie looks frightened. ‘Mum! You’re scaring me! Why are you talking about her like this?’ He takes a step towards me and puts his arms around me, his voice muffled as he goes on. ‘Lexie died, Mum. She isn’t coming back. Not ever.’
I feel his body shake as he holds me. And in that moment, I crumple. Because I miss you – I’ll never stop missing you. Because Ollie misses you. Because I love you, Lexie. Because I think about seeing you again, every day of my life. But also, because he’s right.
So many days are seared into my memory, for all kinds of reasons. Birthdays and holidays. When your schooldays ended. Ollie meeting Jenna; you finding your job at the animal sanctuary. That terrible day you were in a car crash.
I was at work when my mobile buzzed – an unknown number I nearly ignored but mercifully answered, listening as a police officer told me what had happened. I remember the wave of shock that hit me; standing there, utterly frozen, your life flashing before my eyes as I became aware of Lucy’s voice.
‘Edie? What’s happened?’
For a moment, I didn’t speak. Then I was galvanised into action. ‘It’s Lexie. She was in a car crash. She’s been taken to hospital. I have to be there.’
‘God. Is she OK?’ Lucy sounded anxious.
I shook my head. ‘She’s unconscious.’
‘Fuck.’ Lucy looked shocked. ‘Go. Don’t worry about anything here.’
