Always, in December by Emily Stone
Chapter Twenty-Three
A week after the exhibition, which had marked the official end to the course, Josie was spending the last weekend before Christmas in her old flat with Bia, watching as Bia stood on a chair to straighten the gold star at the top of the Christmas tree. The tree was decorated mainly with silver, purple and, completely uncoordinatedly, red, this year, and Josie saw Bia had splashed out on some new decorations. She’d waited for Josie to get there to unpack the wooden swan, which Josie had placed on the tree in a rather ceremonial fashion. The flat looked almost the same as last year, with fairy lights around the window and on top of the fake fireplace, and tinsel hanging up over both bedroom doors.
Josie nodded back to the doorway of the flat as Bia got down from the chair. ‘No mistletoe this year?’
Bia made a face. ‘I had to take it down because Sarah and her boyfriend kept using it as an excuse to have loud make out sessions in the doorway under it and I kept getting stuck.’ When Josie laughed, Bia sighed. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to move back in?’ Sarah, Bia’s replacement flatmate, had gone back home for Christmas already, so there was no danger of being heard.
‘I don’t have a job, sadly, and surely you can’t kick her out anyway – doesn’t she have a contract?’
Bia wrinkled her nose and said nothing, then glanced hopefully at the cupboard where the glasses lived. ‘Wine?’
‘Not until you pack, come on.’ Josie practically dragged her to her bedroom, then sat on Bia’s bed while Bia got out her stupidly large suitcase. Josie had already packed, given she’d come from Helen’s and had only brought what she needed. She was kind of in between homes right now – she’d moved out of the Edinburgh flat, so most of her stuff was at Helen’s, still packed. Still, she figured she’d think that through once she got back from Budapest, where she’d agreed to spend Christmas and New Year with Bia. They were due to fly first thing tomorrow.
Josie felt like she’d lived a rather nomadic life this past year – something she would have never thought herself capable of. It was almost impossible to believe a year had gone by. She supposed it always felt impossible, everyone said it every year, but particularly this year, given she’d gone from heartbroken in London to living in New York, to temping in Guildford and, finally, to playing at being a photographer in Edinburgh. After all that chaos it felt nice to be spending the last bit of the year in her old flat with Bia.
‘What do you reckon?’ Bia asked, turning around at her wardrobe and holding up a skimpy green dress.
Josie scrutinised it. ‘I think you’ll be freezing – it’s freezing there right now.’
Bia pouted. ‘It goes with my new hair though.’ She ran her fingers through her hair – a coppery brunette as of two days ago – as if to prove the point.
Josie shook her head and crossed her legs to settle in. ‘No. Put it away.’
Bia huffed but did just that, then flung several things from her wardrobe onto the floor behind her before doing the same thing with her drawers – a slightly unconventional method of packing. While she was doing that, Josie got her phone out and reread the email for the millionth time. When Bia looked over to her, she knew she wasn’t exactly being subtle.
Bia, temporarily giving up on the packing, moved and plonked herself next to Josie so she could read over her shoulder, even though Josie had already read the email out loud to her – twice. ‘Did you decide what you’re going to do yet?’ Bia asked.
Josie closed the email – it didn’t change, no matter how many times she read it. ‘No,’ she said. After meeting Charlotte, she’d gone for it and applied for the internship in Africa, figuring that just applying meant nothing – she might not get selected, only one person did so the chances were low. But now she’d been offered the job. She’d actually got it after her interview a couple of days ago, and they’d given her a week to decide, given the placement started at the end of January. It all felt a bit much, making such a massive life decision in such a short frame of time.
‘I really don’t know,’ Josie said, tapping her phone with her forefinger. ‘I’m not sure I can do the whole living abroad thing – I always thought I’d be better off just staying in one place and settling.’
‘You did it with New York,’ Bia pointed out.
‘Yes, but that was different – that was because of Oliver, because I had someone else there. It was a big deal, yes, but I knew I’d have one familiar thing. Besides,’ she continued on a sigh, ‘I proved my inability to hack it when I moved back to England, didn’t I?’
‘That was because of Oliver, not New York.’ She prodded Josie in the ribs. ‘Which you well know.’
Josie shook back her hair, looked at Bia with what she imagined was a sort of pained expression. ‘It’s just so ridiculous though, isn’t it, going off to Botswana of all places for an internship?’
Bia shrugged. ‘Doesn’t seem so ridiculous to me, if you want to do wildlife photography. Surely you need to go somewhere like that.’
‘Yes, but . . . I don’t know, isn’t it the type of thing you’re supposed to do at the beginning of your twenties? You know, go somewhere obscure to “find yourself” or whatever?’
Bia pursed her lips as she considered. ‘Well,’ she said slowly, ‘maybe you’re not going to “find yourself”. Maybe you’d be going because you’ve finally found yourself.’
Josie stared at her, then broke into a smile. ‘I quite like that.’
Bia grinned. ‘Good, because I was worried it was going to sound ridiculous.’
Josie’s phone rang in her hand, and Bia pushed off the bed to keep packing. Josie glanced down at the screen, and smiled as she answered. ‘Hi, Aunty Helen. Sorry, I meant to text, I got here safely and we’re just—’
‘Hi, darling.’ Helen’s voice was sharper than usual and Josie automatically tensed. ‘Now, I don’t want you to panic, but Memo’s in hospital.’
‘What?’ Josie’s spine turned rigid, and Bia turned to look at her, frowning. Josie’s hand felt suddenly vice-like on the phone. ‘Why? What’s happened?’
‘I’m . . .’ Helen took a deep breath. ‘She’s had a heart attack – Grandad took her into A&E this evening, and they’ve admitted her.’ Another breath, and this time it sounded like Helen was trying to choke back some emotion. That, above all, made Josie feel cold. ‘She’s ok – I’ve spoken to her on the phone and she’s insisting she’s fine, that everyone’s making a big fuss, but they have to do some tests and keep her in for observation and, well, it’s a heart attack. I’m on my way there now from Guildford. Dad just called me, but despite what Mum said he’s a state so I said I’d call you.’ Dad. Mum. Not Grandad and Memo. The slip made Josie’s lips tremble.
‘But . . . but she was at the exhibition,’ Josie said, a little numbly. ‘She was fine.’ This made no sense. She’d seemed happy, healthy. Weren’t you usually overweight or something when you had a heart attack? Wasn’t there supposed to be some warning sign, something that meant they could prepare for this? She felt Bia sink back onto the bed next to her, rub her shoulder gently.
‘I know, darling. I’m sorry.’
Josie shook her head. No. You only said sorry when someone was already dead. She moved her phone away slightly, checked the time. Not quite six p.m. yet. ‘I’ll get the train now,’ she said to Helen. Surely there would still be one.
‘Well, we won’t be allowed in to see her overnight – we have to wait for visiting hours in the morning.’
‘I still want to be there, with you and Grandad. What time is visitors’ hours?’
‘Nine a.m. tomorrow morning.’
‘Well, we’ll all go together then, from the cottage,’ Josie said firmly.
‘Alright, darling. I’ll see you there. You call me if you get stuck.’
‘I will do.’ She got to her feet, needing to move, to do something immediately. Heart attack. The words reverberated round her brain and her throat tightened in response.
‘And Josie? Try not to panic just yet.’ Helen had control of her voice back, Josie noticed. ‘Your grandad and I, we just wanted to let you know, just . . . just so that you know.’ Just in case. The unsaid words hung in the space between them.
They said goodbye to one another, and when Josie hung up she just stared at Bia, who was still sitting on the bed. ‘It’s my grandmother,’ she said.
‘Oh, Josie.’ Bia leapt to her feet.
‘She’s in hospital. She’s had a heart attack. I have to go.’
‘Shit, what?’
Josie didn’t know if Bia was referring to the hospital or the leaving, but it didn’t matter. She walked out of Bia’s room to the living room, where she’d left her suitcase – thankfully she hadn’t taken anything out yet. She quickly checked the train times on her phone – she could make the last train home if she left now; that way she could look after her grandad tonight and be there ready in the morning.
‘Josie?’
Josie looked back at Bia. ‘She’s had a heart attack, B, I have to go. I have to get to the hospital.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Bia said immediately.
‘No.’ Josie took a step towards her, took her hands and squeezed them. ‘We can’t both miss the plane.’
‘Shit, the plane.’ Bia grimaced.
‘Precisely. Look, you go. I’ll ring the airline to see if I can catch a later flight if . . .’ But she didn’t want to finish that sentence, didn’t want to say an ‘if’, because she wasn’t sure what the end of it would be.
Bia shook her head. ‘I can’t let you go alone, Jose.’
‘I won’t be alone. I have Helen, and my grandad.’ Where all this calm was coming from, Josie had no idea.
‘But—’
‘I forbid you to come, ok? Go to Budapest, start having fun. Meet some hot guy and get ready to introduce me.’ She tried for a smile. ‘You can’t do anything anyway, and in all likelihood she’ll be fine.’ But despite her words, she was desperately trying to quash the gnawing in her belly that was hidden beneath her cool exterior.
She turned, grabbed her suitcase and wheeled it to the front door, closing the matter simply by the fact she was ready to leave, and Bia wasn’t. She hugged Bia, who gripped her tightly back. ‘Call me, please,’ Bia whispered.
‘I will,’ Josie promised. ‘It’ll be fine,’ she said again. And she really, really tried to believe it as she ran down the stairs, out of the building and towards the station.