Prologue: This Christmas
My train is leaving at half past ten, which means I have less than fifteen minutes.
I lean forward to speak to the taxi driver. ‘Can you possibly go any faster? I don’t want to miss my train.’
He grins at me in the mirror. ‘If I go any faster, I’ll hit the van in front of me. Relax, love, I’ll get you there on time.’
I look out of the window, trying not to think about the traffic jam. Oxford Street is full of Christmas shoppers, clutching brightly coloured bags and battling against the wind. I’m glad I did my shopping early. I usually leave it until the last moment, but I thought I’d better get myself organised this year.
Mum has insisted that I come home for Christmas, despite all my protestations.
‘I’m not taking no for an answer,’ she said when she called a few weeks ago. ‘You’re coming home this year if I have to come and get you myself.’
I wanted to argue, but there was no point. She’s perfectly capable of arriving on my doorstep and camping out until she gets her way.
‘I’m working until Christmas Eve,’ I said.
‘No, you aren’t! I called your office, and the very nice girl on reception said the office is closed for the entire Christmas week.’
‘How many times have I told you not to call my office?’ I said through gritted teeth.
I was surprised when she gave what sounded suspiciously like a sob. ‘Mum, what’s wrong?’
She sniffed. ‘It’s Jamie.’
‘What about him?’ I said, alarmed. My brother and I don’t see each other often, but I’m still very fond of him.
‘He’s emigrating!’
‘Emigrating? That doesn’t sound likely. What about Melissa?’
She gave another tragic sniff. ‘She’s going too. Apparently, it was all her idea. They’re moving to America in the new year, and I’ll never see him again.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Have you never heard of plane flights?’
‘I’m not being ridiculous,’ she said in an offended tone. ‘This will probably be the last Christmas we ever spend together as a family. You absolutely have to come home.’
I wavered. ‘Even if our office is closed, I’ll still have a lot of work to do.’
‘That’s settled,’ she said briskly. ‘Dad and I will expect you home on the twenty-second.’
I made one final attempt. ‘I could just come down for Christmas Day.’
‘No, you couldn’t. I want us all together for as long as possible.’
She sounded close to tears again. ‘You aren’t a mother yet, Annie, so you couldn’t possibly understand how it feels to be faced with the prospect of never seeing your baby boy again.’
Jamie is twenty-six and left home more than a year ago to move in with Melissa. To hear Mum tell it, you’d think he was eight and going on his first sleepover with a friend.
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I’ll come home if it means so much to you.’
I expected her to give a shriek of delight or at least sound pleased. But she just said, ‘That’s settled, then. I’ll call you nearer the time to finalise the arrangements.’ And she rang off, leaving me wondering what had just happened.
Anyway, she’s got what she wanted. I’m coming home, and she can have her big schmaltzy Christmas before Jamie disappears into the depths of the United States, never to be seen again. I think Mum imagines her baby boy will be engaging in daily shoot outs with the mafia. Actually, Jamie and Melissa are moving to Florida, so she probably imagines him wrestling alligators.
I hope we aren’t going to spend Christmas with her in tears, trying to persuade Jamie to change his mind and find himself a nice new girlfriend who never wants to leave the country. That wouldn’t go down too well with Jamie, and I don’t blame him. It’s an unexpected move, but good for him. Why not do it while he’s young and childfree?
But I’d better not say that to Mum. The idea of any future grandchildren being born abroad would just about finish her off. And I don’t fancy becoming the focus of her grandmotherly attention. It’s bad enough that she asks me every time we speak whether I’m seeing anyone. I don’t want her delicately inquiring about my reproductive health and suggesting I find myself a good gynaecologist ‘just in case.’