Always, in December by Emily Stone
Chapter Eighteen
Laura and John stood facing each other, holding hands against the backdrop of the castle wall, the tops of trees just visible above it, their leaves a mix of green and golden-red, with a turret to their left. The soft sound of water running through the stone fountain, three tiers with four white horses at the bottom, whispered in the background. Josie could almost feel the history of the place, lives gone past colliding with the present in this stone courtyard. Her hands were clasped together, a lump in her throat as she watched the two of them, so complete in that moment, unconcerned about the two hundred people watching them.
Laura looked incredible – a dress of cascading white, tucked in all the right places, her hair pinned up at the back in curls, blue and white flowers in amongst the gold. She was like a real-life princess, getting ready to rule her castle. She’d clearly known what she’d wanted for this moment, and had gone for it. John was in a kilt, a smart black jacket on top, looking like something out of Outlander. And the weather, as promised, was holding, the sun warm enough that they didn’t need jackets to sit outside. The photos of this moment were going to be incredible, Josie thought.
Bia was sitting on her left, her hair cut into a short, straight bob – she’d had to have it professionally straightened to achieve that – and now a dark purply-brown colour, and Jess and Tom were on Josie’s right. Max was there, somewhere, with his perfect girlfriend, but she hadn’t seen either of them, had deliberately not looked. At the end of the ceremony, when John and Laura kissed, Josie could do nothing to stop the tears from escaping, cutting twin paths through her carefully applied makeup. She let out a laughing sob when she saw Bia was crying too, her eyeliner – purple to match her hair – slightly smudged, and Bia grinned back sort of guiltily. Josie supposed it was impossible, unless you had a heart to match the stone wall, not to get emotional in this kind of atmosphere.
When the ceremony was finished, Laura and John, along with the rest of the wedding party, were taken away by the photographer, presumably to do some epic shots around the castle grounds, and the spectators were ushered to the front of the castle for the drinks reception on the lawn.
‘Oh my God!’ Bia beamed around when they got to the lawn, both her and Josie’s heels – Bia’s a good two inches higher than Josie’s – sinking into soft ground. ‘There are stands, Jose!’ Well, she was right, Josie thought, you had to give her that. There were indeed various stands along the gravel in front of the castle, with different options for drinks – gin, whisky, something elderflower, from what Josie could tell. Bia and Josie split up from Tom and Jess to get theirs – Tom braving the whisky, Jess opting for Pimm’s (‘Though it doesn’t feel very Scottish, does it?’) and Josie and Bia going for a gin.
It was at the gin stand that she saw Max making his way over. Josie gave Bia a meaningful look, and Bia’s head snapped around, gin already in hand, to look at Max. ‘Where’s the girlfriend?’ Bia whispered. Obviously, Josie had already filled Bia in on the whole ordeal. But Max was now too close for Josie to answer, so she worked up a smile instead. She’d decided last night that she would be cool, calm and serene whenever she had to interact with him. She would absolutely not let the bitterness shine through – especially not on her friend’s wedding day. She saw Bia, however, had not quite got the memo.
‘No scowling,’ Josie hissed.
Bia rearranged her face. ‘You’re right,’ she said, a little too loudly for Josie’s liking. ‘Blasé is better.’
Josie took a deliberate sip of her gin – with mint and berries and everything – as Max came up next to them. ‘You look beautiful,’ he said immediately.
She smiled, trying to make it a little cool. ‘Thanks.’ She’d gone all out today, because if you couldn’t at a wedding at a castle, then when the hell could you? She’d carefully pinned some of her hair up and curled the bits that she left down so that they fell in ringlets around her face, the spiral earrings she’d chosen matching the style perfectly. She was wearing a dress that was navy blue at the top, sitting just off her shoulders and giving way at the skirt to a cream petticoat with navy stripes, which floated out when she walked. She’d gone for dark blue, strappy sandals to match the dress, had kept the makeup subtle but distinct.
Max turned his attention to Bia and did that polite, charming smile that he used on people he didn’t know. ‘I’m Max.’
‘So I’ve heard,’ Bia said lightly. At Max’s raised eyebrows and Josie’s look, Bia smiled, held out a hand. ‘I mean, hi. I’m Bia. Josie’s best friend.’ She put a bit of emphasis on the word ‘best’.
Max nodded slowly. ‘Noted.’
‘Well, we’re actually on the way to the ladies,’ said Josie, deciding that avoidance was probably the best policy.
‘Yes,’ said Bia immediately. ‘So sorry not to be able to chat.’ Jesus, Bia could at least try to be subtle.
They left Max standing there, and just in time – when Josie glanced back she saw Erin gliding over to him, perfectly swanlike, her blonde hair pretty much shimmering in the bloody sunlight. Josie must have made some kind of noise, because Bia frowned up at her, then glanced back too. ‘Ah,’ she said. ‘So that’s the girl.’
Josie sighed. ‘So it would appear.’
‘She’s not that pretty,’ said Bia, and Josie laughed.
‘So convincing.’
Bia downed the rest of her gin in one. ‘Well, regardless of what she looks like, I’m fully on board for hating her, don’t you worry.’
Josie managed to avoid Max for the rest of the afternoon, and was grateful that, when the party moved into the pavilion, where everything was white, with fairy lights on the ceiling and flowers on each circular table, the seating plan had her and Bia on different tables to Max and Erin today. Different tables to Tom and Jess, too, and when Josie saw that both she and Bia were next to a guy each, Josie wondered if they’d been put on the obligatory singles table. A quick scan of the names told her that Graeme, at least, was not included.
Bia and Josie sat, Bia stumbling slightly on her heels, and Josie glanced around. From what she could gather, the majority of the two hundred or so guests were on John’s side – the Scottish accents seemed to grow thicker, taking up more of the space. She was looking up when a guy with horn-rimmed glasses, hair with a copious amount of gel and a slightly protruding belly took a seat next to her. He gave a contented sigh, as if happy to be off his feet, though he had to be only in his thirties. He smiled at her. ‘Well, hello there.’ The accent was thick – definitely one of John’s friends then. ‘I’m Rob.’
Josie nodded politely. ‘Josie.’ She’d forgotten this about weddings – the endless introductions. She glanced round to see that Bia was already deep in conversation with the man the other side of her – a blond, tanned guy who already had Bia giggling. Giggling, for God’s sake.
‘So, Josie. What is it that you do?’
She took a sip of her elderflower and Prosecco cocktail, which she and Bia had moved on to after the gin. ‘I’m, err, just in between things at the moment.’ No need to mention that the ‘in between’ involved mindlessly answering phones at a car dealer reception. ‘How about you?’ she asked quickly, before he could press her further. And so he entered into the most mind-numbingly boring explanation of what he did, which was apparently something to do with ‘statistical analysis’ – something he seemed to feel the need to demonstrate with the frequent use of statistics. More than once, she tried to nudge Bia to get her attention, but Bia was oblivious, occasionally letting out bursts of high-pitched laughter – a sure sign that she was well on her way to being well and truly hammered – at something her guy was saying. Briefly, Josie wondered if this was the guy Laura had implied she should dress up for and, if so, whether she should be offended by that. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Max on a nearby table, and tried not to notice the way Erin was touching his hand. Tried not to remember how his warm, strong hand had felt holding hers last December.
Bia finally turned her attention to Josie, just as Rob broke off his explanation of his job, to enter into a description of what he did for hobbies – which included rock climbing, something which Josie didn’t quite buy, rock collecting, which she did believe, and butterflies. She wasn’t entirely sure how ‘butterflies’ was a hobby, but decided it was safest not to ask. Bia gave Josie a look, but there was nothing either of them could do. ‘And what about you?’ Rob asked, in between a mouthful of venison that had been served with dauphinoise potatoes, and actually tasted impressive, considering the mass catering.
‘Oh, I’m actually into the javelin.’ Josie wasn’t sure what made her say it – maybe it was the most recent glass of white wine – but it was out before she could think better of it. Next to her, Bia spluttered so hard that she started coughing, and had to take several gulps of water, waving off her guy’s concern at the same time.
Rob seemed to notice nothing odd about that, and only raised his eyebrows fractionally. ‘Really?’
Josie nodded. ‘Oh yes. I’ve been in several javelin-throwing competitions, competing countywide.’
‘She’s come in first a few times as well,’ Bia added helpfully.
‘That’s amazing,’ Rob said, though whether or not he truly thought so was difficult to tell, given he used the same monosyllabic tone he’d used to describe his statistics.
‘I also like designing marshmallow sculptures,’ Josie continued, fighting to keep a straight face and refusing to look at Bia, who was grinning wildly.
Rob frowned. ‘Marshmallow . . . sculptures?’ He looked a little concerned by the idea.
‘That’s right,’ Josie said with a smile. ‘I’m actually in the Guinness book of world records for building the largest ever marshmallow tower – you should look me up.’
He nodded slowly. ‘I’ll do that.’
Josie and Bia exchanged a look when the speeches started, then swivelled to face the stage. John’s speech managed to raise a few laughs, and Josie actually teared up when Laura’s dad cried on stage himself as he gave his. The speeches were immediately followed by the first dance, and, true to form, Laura had clearly taken dance lessons before the day, so she moved elegantly across the dance floor, her usual quick, stamping stride nowhere in sight.
Bia’s guy – Josie still hadn’t got his name – stood as the dancing opened up to the rest of them, and held out a hand to Bia. ‘May I?’
Bia bit her lip and glanced at Josie. ‘Well, I—’
Josie shook her head. ‘Go. I’ll come and join you when I’ve finished this.’ She raised her glass of wine. Bia hesitated, then took the guy’s hand, who beamed down at her. She was barely as tall as his chest, even in those gigantic heels – not that that seemed to worry him.
Rob immediately focused in on Josie, pushing his glasses up his nose. ‘So where did you grow up, Josie?’ He blinked at her a few times, waiting patiently.
She tried to resist the urge to sigh, took a sip of her wine instead. Then she shrugged. ‘Well, actually, I was raised in complete isolation in a forest for most of my childhood. What about you?’ She cocked her head.
‘Really?’ Rob blustered, in a way that suggested he genuinely believed her. ‘That’s—’
He cut off as someone swept into Bia’s vacated seat. Josie stiffened, and slowly looked up at Max.
‘May I?’ Without waiting for an answer, he sat down.
Rob and Max introduced themselves, shaking their hands across Josie’s rigid body, then Rob waved a hand in her direction. ‘Josie was just in the middle of telling me a story of her childhood. Did you know she grew up in complete isolation in a forest?’
Josie felt herself flush, and finished the rest of her wine to compensate. Max raised his eyebrows, his lips twitching in that way of his. She tried not to meet his gaze. ‘Is that so?’ he asked. She cleared her throat, nodded. ‘Well,’ Max said with a grin, ‘tell us about it!’
Josie looked between them, then, deciding there was nothing for it, launched into a wildly invented story of her life in the forest, which included foraging for mushrooms and making traps, claimed that she knew how to start a fire with nothing more than just two sticks of wood, and that her grandmother was into dancing naked under the full moon. Rob kept shaking his head and saying ‘Fascinating’, and Max just kept asking more and more questions, getting really particular so that she had to come up with more and more obscure answers. It was a full twenty minutes before Rob stood up and excused himself. ‘I’ll be right back though,’ he added. ‘I want to hear more about this!’
Max and Josie watched Rob leave the pavilion towards the toilets, then burst out into simultaneous laugher. ‘Oh my God,’ said Josie, unable to stop and clutching her side.
Max grinned. ‘You are really quite convincing. I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of you lying.’ For some reason, that had the effect of sobering her up, and the laugh died in her throat. She wiped at her eyes.
‘Where’s Erin?’ She looked around, but couldn’t immediately spot her.
Max waved a hand in the air. ‘Around.’
Josie was tempted to ask him what Erin thought about Max coming over to talk to her, but resisted. They knew each other, she supposed, so maybe it was only natural that he’d make an effort to talk to her.
She caught Laura’s eye on the dance floor, and when Laura beckoned her over, practically leapt to her feet, glad to have a real excuse to leave the table before Erin inevitably came along. She jerked her head towards the dance floor, turned away, then, feeling rude, looked back at him. ‘Do you, umm, want to come and dance? With everyone, I mean,’ she added quickly, because his green-gold gaze had turned sharp.
He shook his head, held up a glass of red wine. ‘Nah, I’ll sit this one out thanks.’
She nodded and went to join Laura, who pulled Josie into a circle with Jess, Tom, John and a guy she presumed must be John’s friends. ‘You’re married!’ Josie shouted over the music, making Laura laugh and pull Josie in for a hug.
Then Laura moved Josie to arm’s length and held her there. She frowned. ‘Why were you sat next to Rob?’
Josie raised her eyebrows. ‘You did the seating plan, not me.’
‘You were supposed to be sitting next to Stuart!’
Josie frowned. ‘Stuart?’
‘Yes.’ Laura did a quick glance around, then pointed to the blond, tanned guy who was dancing with Bia, looking incredibly pleased with himself. ‘Him.’
Josie snorted. ‘Oops.’
Laura put her hands on her hips. ‘You and Bia must have sat the wrong way round.’
‘Ah well, at least Bia’s happy. And it was still better than my dinner companion last night.’ She gave Laura a meaningful look, and Laura grimaced.
‘John’s uncle Graeme?’ Josie nodded. ‘I’m so sorry, Jose, he literally left me no choice – he demanded to change table last-minute, and then had very specific requests on the type of person he wanted to be sitting next to, and John convinced me it’d be easier to just agree so Graeme didn’t cause problems during the actual dinner and, God, you don’t hate me for it, do you?’ Laura sucked in a big breath, having apparently used up all her oxygen in that little speech. Josie got the impression Laura might be on her way to tipsy.
She shook her head, laughed. ‘Laura, relax, I’m kidding. I can’t even imagine how complicated it must be to pull something like this off – I’m hardly going to blame you for who I’m sitting next to.’
Laura wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m still sorry. It’s just, I knew you’d at least be able to handle him.’ She let out a sigh, glanced across the tent. ‘And on the subject of handling yourself – I recognise that guy from somewhere. He’s the Christmas guy, isn’t he?’
Josie refused to let herself wince. Laura’s day, she reminded herself. She would not lament. ‘Yep,’ she said easily. And then the song changed and everyone started dancing with more exuberance, effectively ending any conversations.
Josie danced with Laura for a bit, but when Erin came up to join John and a few others in a circle, all of them laughing and pulling each other round, she decided she’d made enough effort on the dance floor, so she grabbed her camera and snuck outside. She couldn’t see Bia anywhere, though she could hazard a guess at where she might be, she thought with a small smirk. She sighed as she walked away from the lights and chatter, looking around. She wanted to capture the castle under moonlight, to get a sense of what it must be like when it slept in the grounds. She walked with no real purpose, stopping here and there to take a photo, the sound of voices faded until all she could hear was the music. The castle was lit up now, a bright yellow-gold, showy and classy at the same time. She wanted to see if she could capture that.
She was standing by the lake, looking out at the moonlit water, when she heard soft footsteps behind her. She jumped and spun around, then sucked in a breath when she saw who it was.
‘Sorry,’ Max said quietly. ‘Didn’t mean to scare you.’
Had he meant to follow her, though? She shook the question away, even if the alcohol swirling in her brain was making her think he was far more attractive than he had any right to be, all Heathcliff-like at the edge of the water. But it had been nine months now, she told herself for the millionth time. No reason to think about how they’d been naked together. No reason at all.
‘Bored of the party already?’ she asked as he came up next to her, looking out across the lake instead of at him.
‘Just fancied some air,’ he said lightly. ‘You?’ She lifted her camera in explanation. ‘Ah,’ he said.
The music was distant now, but she could just about hear it – there was a pop song on, potentially Taylor Swift though she couldn’t be sure. The band were doing pretty well at alternating between Top 40s, cheesy classics, romantic classical and Scottish jigs – something for everyone. A cool breeze kissed Josie’s bare shoulders and she shivered, just a little.
‘You’re cold?’ Josie looked over to see Max frowning, reaching up to take his jacket off for her.
She shook her head. ‘No, I like it. The breeze, the slight chill. There’s something nice and, I don’t know, real about it.’ She cut herself off, wondering if that sounded stupid.
‘You look like you’re glowing,’ he murmured. ‘Like you’re the one who just got married.’
Josie’s stomach pulsed a little, but she tried to laugh it off, make it casual. ‘I love it here,’ she admitted. And it was beyond true. Somehow, everything seemed just a little bit better, walking under the moonlight with a castle just there. She laughed again, softly. She was sure it couldn’t be just her who felt like that. His lip did that almost-smile thing as he watched her, maybe trying to figure out the joke, and his eyes looked light, absorbing some of the moonlight. They fell into silence and she felt that slightly awkward need to fill it. ‘I never even knew this place existed. Any of this, I mean.’ She gestured with her free hand, trying not just to encompass the castle and the grounds, but beyond that, right to Edinburgh itself. ‘But now that I’ve been here, I feel like it already holds a place in my heart. Does that make sense?’
He nodded. ‘At least you know about it, all of it, now.’
She huffed out a laugh. ‘And now all future weddings will pale in comparison to this.’ But she felt her smile dim a little, and wrapped her arms around herself.
‘Are you ok?’ Max asked softly.
She nodded, her head feeling a bit too heavy on her neck. She hadn’t had that much to drink, had she? ‘Yes. I’m ok, yes, I’m just thinking.’
‘About?’
‘It’s just, my parents,’ she said, the words tasting a little thick and tingly on her tongue. Ok, so maybe she should have stopped one or two glasses ago. But then, what was the harm? He already knew about her parents anyway. ‘It hits me every now and then,’ she said quietly, ‘the things they won’t be here for. Like when I passed my driving test, when I graduated from Exeter. And I might never get married – who knows? – but if I do, they won’t be here to see it.’ She looked up to see his eyebrows pulling together, his eyes focused on her face. He opened his mouth to speak and she shook her head. ‘I don’t mean . . . It’s sad, but it’s just . . . An acceptance too, I guess. It’s the type of sadness that’s both more and less than the need to cry or sob or whatever.’ She cocked her head up at him, tried a little smile. ‘It’s not going to ruin my night, I’m not going to break down about it or anything. It just . . . is, I suppose.’
‘Josie . . .’
‘I’m ok,’ she repeated. ‘Really. It’s something I’ve learned to carry around with me, but in some ways I’m glad of that, because it means I loved them, and I remember them, you know?’ She glanced up, and he nodded, though the light in his eyes had dimmed slightly. She sighed. ‘And that part of me, it’s part of what makes me who I am, and I can’t hate that, because, most of the time, I don’t hate who I am.’
He reached out, tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She should move away. She really should. ‘I don’t hate who you are, either.’ His voice was almost a whisper. ‘Any of the time.’
‘To be fair, you probably don’t know me well enough to qualify like that,’ she said lightly.
He moved to step even closer and she took a deliberate step back, shook her head. She may be tipsy, but she knew perfectly well what would happen if he got even closer, and knew categorically that it was a bad idea. She took another step backwards, saw the way his expression changed, closed off to that poker face, as he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets.
‘Goodnight, Max,’ she said firmly, and turned to walk away from the allure of the moonlight, and back to the safety of the party.