Always, in December by Emily Stone
Chapter Twenty-One
Josie emailed some photos to Geoffrey, along with her phone number, as soon as she got back to her room at the castle, knowing that if she didn’t do it right away she might lose her nerve, and not two hours later, when she and Bia were on the way to the final dinner, she got a call from an unknown number. She answered it with a cautious, ‘Hello?’
‘Josie?’ It was a voice like a growl. ‘It’s Geoffrey Gilligan.’
‘Oh!’ Josie exclaimed. ‘Hello,’ she repeated. Bia, dressed in bright green to offset her purple hair, gave Josie a curious look, and she gave a little shrug.
‘I’ve just had a look at your stuff, and I’m impressed – and I don’t say that lightly. Now look, I’m running a course here in Edinburgh this autumn. The places are all full, but I’m willing to make an exception – partly because Max is a friend of mine, but mostly because I see talent, and from what Max has told me you are currently wasting said talent, which is a downright shame.’
‘I’m not—’ Josie tried to protest, but he stopped her.
‘Let me finish. This would be a chance to develop that talent, to focus on your work exclusively. It starts in two weeks and runs until Christmas. At the end of it there’s a student exhibition, which gives you the chance to showcase your work – we invite people in the industry, that kind of thing. There are no scholarships available, but I can offer some funding – enough to make a substantial difference, I’d say.’
Josie halted in her tracks, and Bia came to a stop too, now wearing a little frown as she tried to figure it out. Josie let out a slow breath. It was all a bit sudden, and she wasn’t sure what to think of it. When she’d emailed him she was more expecting him to suggest a few competitions, that kind of thing. But to dedicate herself fully to a course . . . Could she really just up and move to Edinburgh? Commit to studying for the rest of the year, without any guarantee that it would lead to something? It seemed a little reckless, really, and more the type of thing she’d expect from Bia, she thought, glancing at her. ‘I’m not sure, I . . . I need to think about it.’
‘Alright, but think quickly. If I don’t hear by the end of the week, I’ll presume it’s a no. Have a good evening, and hope to hear from you soon.’ Josie kept the phone to her ear even after he’d hung up, staring at Bia, a little dumbfounded.
‘What was that about?’ Bia asked.
Josie filled Bia in on the way to the Auld Keep, where the last dinner of the weekend was being held. Predictably, Bia thought it was a wonderful idea and didn’t see the problem with how Josie would make it work financially, simply shrugging and saying, ‘You’ll figure it out.’ Josie was a little relieved when they got to the Keep, which somehow felt older than the rest of the castle, because it meant there was an excuse to stop talking about it.
They made their way to the Stag Chamber, where there was a stag head on one of the walls – hence the name, Josie supposed – though she tried not to look at the slightly glassy eyes. She’d never really appreciated the tradition of displaying heads of dead animals, once living, soulful things being displayed as nothing more than prizes, though she supposed it did add to the authentic feel of the place. As did the original stone walls, and she couldn’t help sneakily running a hand along one. It felt rough to the touch and somehow colder than the rest of the room. There was a vaulted ceiling which curved above them, making it easy to imagine the room when empty, being imprisoned here perhaps, cobwebs in the corners and the steady drip of water leaking onto stone – the type of place where you could be left, and forgotten about.
There were two rectangular tables either side of the room, draped in black with a purple cloth running along the middle of them, with a smaller table at the top to join the two, where Laura and John would no doubt sit. There was a display of candlesticks on the tables, already lit, and lamps on the far wall that had been made to look like live torches, which combined gave the room a flickering glow.
Josie clocked Erin, nodding to her, as she and Bia made their way over to a table full of drinks, including actual mead, to help themselves. She couldn’t see Max there, and tried to ignore the slight twist in her stomach. Maybe that was a good thing, she told herself. Maybe it was better if, after the coffee shop experience, she didn’t see him again this weekend. And lots of people had gone home by now, unable or unwilling to take the extra day off work – including Stuart, according to Bia, and Jess and Tom, who had made their way back to London this morning. Jess had sent Josie a message saying that they must all meet for lunch when Josie was next in London, though Josie had no doubt that at least six months would pass before she saw either of them again. Dinner was therefore a smaller, more intimate affair, with seating for around thirty or so, the people left either close family or those who wanted to make a long weekend out of it. Josie had said she’d stay, because what did she have to go back for? Answering phones at a temp reception job, or else discussing the redecorating with Helen. And, of course, she’d wanted to be there for Laura.
Laura, who at that moment was standing near the stag’s head, her face illuminated by candlelight, a soft, happy glow better than any makeup. Josie jerked her head towards Laura, and Bia nodded, following her. Josie felt the punch of guilt as they reached her. She’d stayed on, was considered close enough by Laura to stay on – the only work friend to get that honour – but she hadn’t bothered to speak to her all day. Laura, however, didn’t seem upset and beamed at Josie and Bia as they approached.
Josie pulled Laura into a hug, smelling a sweet perfume. ‘You look beautiful,’ she said as she eased back. ‘Though I imagine you’re fed up of hearing that, after how you’ve looked all weekend.’
Laura tossed back her head and gave Josie a look. ‘No one, not even me, Josie, could ever get fed up of hearing that.’ She smiled, looked around the room as the last few people joined. ‘It’s been good, hasn’t it?’
‘I’d say “good” is an understatement. It’s been amazing, Laura.’ Laura grinned. ‘But how has it been for you, not too stressful?’
‘No, once we got the ball rolling it all just sort of fell into place.’ Though she didn’t say it, Josie had the distinct impression that it was only religious planning on Laura’s part that had caused it to do so.
‘Well, you bloody nailed it,’ said Bia with a grin, and gave Laura a hug herself. Laura squeezed Bia back.
‘Glad you could make it.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Bia shook her head. ‘Thank you for letting me gatecrash.’ Neither of them made any mention of the reason Bia had to gatecrash in the first place, for which Josie was grateful.
John came over then, and pulled Josie into a bear hug. Josie smiled at him. ‘Well, don’t you look dapper? You should wear kilts all the time.’
‘Ah, I would but she won’t let me.’ He put an arm round Laura, tugged her to his side.
Bia grinned at them. ‘You guys are just picture perfect, aren’t you?’
‘Aren’t we just?’ Laura agreed, making Josie laugh.
‘And how’s the Boathouse treating you?’ asked Josie.
‘God, it’s amazing,’ Laura said. ‘It’s right on the lake, and we watched the sunrise over it this morning. You seriously can’t get any better, even if the sun slightly disappeared after that.’
Josie raised her eyebrows. ‘You were up at sunrise?’
John gave a mock grimace. ‘Laura made me.’
Laura shook back her hair, down and straight this evening. ‘Well, we put the rest of the morning to good use, didn’t we?’ John flushed and Josie and Bia laughed when Laura winked at them. John’s parents came over at that moment, and Josie and Bia excused themselves.
Josie gave a little sigh and Bia cocked her head at her. ‘I just can’t believe it’s already over,’ Josie said.
‘It’s not over yet though. And I’m taking notes – I’m pretty sure I’m going to have my wedding here one day.’
Josie laughed. ‘Now you just need to find the guy.’
Bia waved a hand in the air. ‘A minor detail.’
‘What about Stuart?’ Josie asked with a smirk.
‘Nah, that was just a bit of fun.’
Josie jerked to a stop as Max entered the chamber. He looked impossibly handsome in the glow of the room – of course he bloody did. It was a slightly more informal vibe this evening, despite the splendour of their surroundings, so Max was wearing black jeans and a fitted grey jumper. Erin waved him to her side of the room before Josie could decide if she should go over to him or not.
She saw Bia giving her a look, and frowned. ‘What?’ Bia took a sip of mead, raising her eyebrows over the rim. ‘What?’ Josie insisted as they took their seats – separated from Max and Erin by an elderly couple, presumably on John’s side if the man’s tartan kilt was anything to go by.
‘I’m just not sure it’s a good idea to go back there, given the way it ended last time,’ Bia said.
‘I’m not,’ Josie said with a frown. ‘Nothing’s happened. Nothing’s going to happen.’
‘You spent the whole morning with him today,’ Bia pointed out.
‘Yes, and with his girlfriend, Bia.’ The bit in between, she decided, she just wasn’t going to mention. Because there wasn’t anything to mention. Not really.
His voice rang out in her mind. I do, you know. Think of you.
Josie shook it off, focused in on Bia. ‘And I was only with him because you weren’t around.’
Bia ignored the jibe. ‘You still have feelings for him.’
‘I do not,’ Josie said. But she knew that it came out a little too prim to sound convincing.
‘Just be careful, ok?’
Josie sighed. ‘Bia, I’m always careful.’ But there was a little part of her that thought that, if that were true, she would have been able to enter into a fling with Max the way Bia had gone about it with Stuart.
Bia managed to distract her for most of the dinner, so that she barely paid attention to what Max was doing. The mead was slightly stronger than she’d planned for, so her head starting swirling pleasantly before she realised it, and she felt her voice getting louder, gesturing more emphatically when she and Bia discussed Big Ideas. As such, Josie was a little shocked when Laura and John started making the rounds to say goodbye to everyone.
Josie and Bia stood as they approached their section of the table. There were tears in Laura’s eyes as she hugged them both. ‘Don’t ask me why,’ she said. ‘I’m just all emotional this weekend.’ Because John was giving her a look, Laura prodded him in the ribs. ‘It’s normal, you jerk,’ she said with affection.
Max and Erin were part of the little cluster that had come up round the other side of the table to say goodbye, and John turned to hug Erin, who gave him a friendly pat as they drew away. ‘I can’t believe you’re a proper grown-up now,’ she said with a sigh.
John snorted. ‘You’ll get there soon, I’ve no doubt.’ Josie tried very hard not to look at Max. Would it be on the cards, she wondered? Would Max and Erin end up getting married, Josie no more than a story in Max’s past? She pressed her lips together. Let it go, Josie.
The entire dinner party followed Laura and John outside to wave them off, but because they were walking to the Boathouse first to get their luggage, and because Laura wasn’t wearing a wedding dress, it was rather less dramatic than the send-offs you saw in those romantic films.
‘Thank God,’ Bia said, as they gave a last wave. ‘I’ve been needing a wee for about ten minutes.’ She dashed off, and Josie headed back into the Chamber. She paused just inside the entryway. Max was sitting there, the candlelight bouncing in his hair. Erin was distracted, chatting away to someone on her other side, and Max looked up and caught her eye. And smiled at her in a way that should be reserved for his damn girlfriend.
Maybe it was the mead, maybe it was something Bia had said, or maybe it was the whole bloody weekend, the way he’d been acting like they had some kind of connection, that they were something to one another, but in that moment, she decided that she’d had enough. She turned on her heel and stormed away, practically barging into someone coming in the other direction. Screw him, she thought. Screw all the damn happy couples here.
She was out in the grounds when she heard him calling her name behind her. ‘Josie?’ She ignored him and marched on further, the wind whipping past her face. ‘Josie!’
She spun to him, glaring. ‘What?’ she spat out.
He jerked to a stop, frowned, then started walking slowly towards her, as if she were some kind of animal in need of taming. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked slowly. For a moment she just glowered at him. Clearly, he was under the impression that all of this was fine, that they were fine, that it was bloody fine to give her all these looks and take her hand when his girlfriend wasn’t looking, because a countryside jaunt and a meeting with a famous photographer made everything just dandy.
She shook her head. ‘What are you doing, Max?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What are you doing?’ she repeated. ‘Why are you trying to worm your way back into my life?’ She pulled a hand through her hair, felt the wind tug at it when she let go. There were no stars tonight, the night sky clouded above them. ‘Or are you? Is that what you’re trying to do – do you want to be friends? Is that what all of this is about?’
‘No, I—’
‘Then what!’ Her voice erupted across the castle grounds. ‘You bloody show up here out of nowhere, at my friend’s wedding, where you have no right to be—’
‘Hey, that’s a bit harsh,’ he said, still in that same careful tone of voice. ‘I was invited, it’s not like I did it deliberately to piss you off.’ She shot him a glare, and his face tightened. ‘This isn’t ideal for me either, Josie, it’s—’
‘Oh yes,’ Josie said, letting out a scathing laugh. ‘I’m sure it’s so hard being here with your gorgeous, intelligent girlfriend – whom I like, by the way.’
‘I like her too, but it’s not what you—’
‘You were the one to leave me, Max,’ Josie snapped. Her eyes were stinging now, damn them. She hunched her shoulders, wrapped her arms around them, trying to combat the chill that was clinging to her skin. ‘You left me on fucking Boxing Day after I’d . . .’ She took a deep breath, shook her head. ‘Forget it. That’s not the point, that’s history.’
Max stepped towards her, his eyes dark like the clouds above them. They stared at each other for a moment, then Max took a breath. ‘Look, I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you—’
Josie gave a sour laugh. ‘Oh, that’s rich.’
‘I tried to talk to you about it!’ Finally, Max erupted too, something breaking whatever control had been keeping him in check. He pulled a hand through his hair in a way that looked painful. ‘In New York. I tried to talk to you, to explain, and you just blew me off! And you seemed perfectly content with your new life there, I might add,’ he added with a bitter tone. She only glowered. Of course she’d seemed content, hadn’t she? She was hardly going to let on how much it had hurt, seeing him there, was she?
It was then that she decided that she didn’t want to have this out after all, and turned to stalk away. He reached out, grabbed her hand, and pulled her back around almost violently. He let go immediately, like her skin burned him, and shook his head furiously. ‘You think this is easy for me?’ His voice was quiet, but each word held a punch that went straight through her. ‘Wanting what I can’t have?’
The words twisted in her chest, and she looked down at the ground to hide it. ‘That’s a ridiculous thing to say. It’s your choice, isn’t it?’ she said, before he could butt in. ‘All of this – it’s all on your terms.’
‘In New York—’
‘Screw New York. If you wanted me, then you should have tried to stay with me in the first damn place!’ She was breathing too heavily now, but she couldn’t seem to slow it. ‘Or at least tried to stay in touch or something, instead of just abandoning me.’
Max winced, and for a moment, the fire that had flared up in her wavered. But then he spoke, and his voice was cold. ‘You have no idea of anything, Josie.’
And just like that, the fire burned again. ‘Well, no, because you don’t tell me anything, do you? I’ve given you everything, I told you everything, and you give me nothing back.’ She started to turn away again, not entirely sure where she was going. ‘And maybe you blame me for that in some weird, twisted way, but I don’t, and I don’t think—’
For the second time that night, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulled her to him so forcefully that the breath was knocked out of her. Their gazes locked, his eyes searching hers. Then he was kissing her, and she was responding without thinking about it. She pulled his shoulders towards her, needing more of him, and his fingers dug in at her waist. God, the taste of him. She hadn’t realised until right now how much she’d been craving it.
‘Josie?’ The sound of Bia’s voice catapulted them back to reality and they both sprang apart like they’d been shocked. Josie smoothed her hair as she turned to face Bia, who looked like a little fairy in the night, with the light of the Keep behind her. How much had she seen? Jesus, thank God it had been Bia and not Erin.
‘I’ll be right there,’ Josie said, hoping that the waver in her voice was too light for Bia to notice.
‘Is everything ok?’ Bia’s frown was moving between Josie and Max.
‘Yeah.’ Josie cleared her throat. ‘It’s fine. Go back inside, I just need a moment. I’ll be there in a sec.’
Bia shifted her weight from one foot to the other. ‘Actually, I was thinking of going to bed – I’m completely knackered.’
‘Alright,’ Josie said, as evenly as she could manage. ‘You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you.’ Bia hesitated, but left, leaving Max and Josie alone. Josie turned to Max, and they stared at each other, their eyes glinting in the darkness.
Max shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.’
Something crushed around Josie’s heart, but she nodded, tight-lipped. ‘No. I suppose you shouldn’t have.’ She took a single step away.
‘Josie, wait, I didn’t mean . . .’
But she’d had enough. She’d had enough of half promises, of the hints and looks and goddamn mixed messages. So when she spoke her voice was a hard line. ‘No, Max. I’m done with this. You walked into my life, made me feel . . . I don’t know.’ She pulled a hand through her hair. ‘Different. Then you walked out of it, without a second thought for my feelings. And that’s fine, whatever, if you didn’t want anything more. You could have found a nicer way to do that, but I can accept it.’ She shook her head. ‘But what I can’t accept is this.’ She gestured between them. ‘Is you acting like nothing’s happened, or trying to be friends, or hinting that you want something more, and I can’t . . .’ She took a slow breath, trying to calm her voice down, wishing it didn’t sound like it was on the verge of a sob. ‘After this weekend, I think it’s best if we don’t see each other again.’ Because what she’d realised over these last few days was that she couldn’t be friends with him – not without wanting more. So if that was what he was asking for, she wouldn’t do it. Better that he was out of her life completely, and then she’d be able to forget about him.
Max said nothing, just looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite make out. Her lips tightened, but she would not let her emotions get the better of her, would not cry. This time, it would be her turn to walk away from him. So she turned, holding her head high, and walked after Bia. And this time, Max did not follow.