Always, in December(63)
Memo moved the screen back to her side of the sofa. “Oh, we know what she’s like, my love. She’s our daughter and we love her, but she was a total nightmare to live with as a teenager, and I swear she’s hardly changed at all. She was always bossing your dad around; I tell you, it gave me a headache.” Memo smiled in a way that seemed genuine, but Josie wondered if she got that little jolt, every time she thought about the son she’d lost, just like Josie did whenever she thought too hard about her parents. It was one of the things she loved about Memo, though—the fact that she could talk about Josie’s mum and dad with love rather than sadness. It made Josie able to do it too, when she was around her.
“She’s getting me to help strip the wallpaper in her bedroom,” Josie admitted. Though, to be fair, she didn’t have much else to do right now.
“Tell her to bugger off, Josie,” her grandad said, slurping his tea.
“Yes, and give her a cigarette if she complains,” Memo said.
Josie tried not to smile as her grandad muttered something under his breath. She caught the word “encourage,” but not much else.
“Anyway,” Memo continued. “We’ll try and come to see you both in Guildford soon.”
“Great!” said Josie. It had been too long since she’d seen them both.
Her grandad popped his head into view. “Yes, and tell your grandmother I’m perfectly capable of driving, won’t you, Josie?”
“He is not,” Memo said, before Josie could answer. “His back’s playing up again, and the doctor said he’s not supposed to do anything strenuous.”
“Oh come on,” her grandad said, slinking back out of the screen, “driving’s hardly strenuous.”
“Is that my photo on the wall I see?” Josie asked. She’d long since learned it was best not to get in the middle of their bickering—both sides tended to ignore what she said in any case, so she was better off leaving them to it. It would be Memo who got her way in the end though, no matter how much she made Grandad feel he had a say in the matter.
Memo looked over her shoulder. “Oh yes!” It was the photo Josie had sent them of her standing alone on Brooklyn Bridge, bundled up in a hat and scarf but beaming nonetheless. “We love it, don’t we, John?” Her grandad grunted his assent. Oliver had taken that photo, Josie thought, though the pang she felt at his name was barely there anymore.
The taxi came to a stop outside the castle as Memo looked back at Josie. Josie glanced at the taxi driver, but he just gave her a wink as he got out of the car. “Did I tell you about the time your grandad took me to New York for our twentieth wedding anniversary?”
“Umm…” Josie glanced behind her to where the driver was now opening the boot and taking out her suitcase.
“We left your dad and Helen home alone and I tell you, the house was a state by the time we got back.”
“Memo,” Josie said, “I’m going to have to go—the car’s stopped.”
“Oh! Of course, my love, sorry.”
Josie cocked her head. “Aren’t you going to ask me about the quote?”
Memo smiled. “I was trying to be nice and let you get on with your exciting weekend. But it’s your turn, isn’t it? Do you have one?”
Josie brought up the message she’d written to herself on her phone, and read out the quote she’d written down. “The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist.”
“Oh! Oh, I know that one!” Memo flapped a slim hand across the screen. “It’s…Wait, don’t go, I know it. It’s…John!” There was a thump and then a groan, and Josie was pretty sure Memo had hit her grandad.
“The Usual Suspects,” her grandad said from out of view.
“Right, that’s it,” said Memo, smiling and slumping back down on the sofa. “I would have got there eventually.”
Josie laughed as she turned off FaceTime, slipped her phone into her pocket and got out of the taxi. She smiled at the balding driver as he handed over her suitcase—bigger than she’d usually take for just a few days, but necessary for the three separate formal occasions taking place as part of the wedding. You had to admire Laura’s vision for the whole thing, really.
“You going to be all right from here, lass?” the driver asked, hooking his fingers through the belt loop of his trousers, no sign that he was in any great rush. A far cry from the London or New York taxis.
“Yes, thanks so much,” she said, handing over the cash.
“Aye, you’re welcome.”
She watched the car drive away for a moment, then let out a long, slow breath and crooked her neck one way then the other to relieve some of the tension. She turned a full circle to take everything in, allowing the slightly crisp morning air to caress her cheeks. The grounds were as epic as the building itself, seeming to stretch on indefinitely, though she didn’t want to think about how many hours a day it must cost to keep the lawn that perfect.
She nodded to herself, squared her shoulders. She was here now and even if she did turn out to be the only single person the whole weekend, even if she was bombarded with endless questions over what had happened with her and Oliver, she was here because she loved Laura and so she would damn well make the most of it. Besides, she was lucky—she got to stay in the actual castle for three nights, Laura having deemed her close enough on her side to take one of the limited rooms here. And, really, you couldn’t hope for a weekend in a more beautiful location—maybe it would prove to be exactly what she needed.