AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Saturday night before Christmas? In my old life, I’d be at work. No chance of being out of the kitchen before midnight. And then back here for booze, board games, snacks with whoever was still awake. An argument with my brother, probably. The traditional Taylor night in.’
‘I can’t decide whether that sounds terrible or wonderful.’
Rufus lifted his shoulders, then let them drop. ‘If it helps, it’s usually both. What about you? What would you be doing if you were with your family?’
She had to suppress a shudder. ‘Forced conversation. Awkward silences. Trying to subtly convince my parents to separate.’
He watched her for a long moment as she realised she’d been far more honest than she’d intended.
‘I’m sorry,’ Rufus said, his voice so full of empathy that she felt the warmth of it in her bones.
‘They never recovered,’ she said, wondering where this need to talk was coming from. ‘They were both so...devastated when my sister died. And they could—they should—have turned to each other. To support one another. To get through it. But it was like...’ She hesitated. Realised there was a tear in the corner of her eye and swiped it away before it could betray her. ‘They both just stopped talking. As if that would somehow change something.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I really don’t know why I’m telling you this.’
‘Because you’re stranded in my house at Christmas instead of being with them?’
She shrugged. ‘Maybe. Did your family rally round when your dad was sick?’
‘We all had to pitch in. Between that and me moving back here and packing up the house it’s been a full-on year.’ And it had brought them all together, that much was clear from the way that he spoke about them.
And that was the thing: some families, some couples, survived these traumas. Others didn’t. And until you were in the middle of it—in a brightly lit hospital corridor in the middle of the night, hearing terrible news and wondering what your life was going to be now—you didn’t know which way it was going to fall.
There were plenty of people—her parents included—who thought they were in a happy, stable marriage. And then when the worst happened, they discovered that that wasn’t enough.
Which was precisely why Jess had steered clear of anything remotely resembling a serious relationship her entire adult life. What was the point if even something you thought was perfect could disintegrate in the space of a heartbeat? Or the space where a heartbeat should have been.
‘Right. Enough wallowing—’
‘It’s okay to wallow if you feel sad,’ Rufus said gently.
‘Enough wallowing,’ she repeated. ‘Now you’ve made me realise how hungry I am, we have to eat.’
He pulled the lasagne out of the Aga and reached for a serving spoon without looking up. All muscle memory, she realised. He’d grown up in this kitchen. Was a part of it.
They took their steaming plates of food to the huge table in the centre of the kitchen and she plonked herself onto a bench opposite Rufus, and Jess was struck by how intimate this was. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had dinner alone with a man.
These days her social life was mainly messaging Lara and the occasional departmental social. And she’d never really minded that before. But, sitting here with Rufus, trying to remember how to hold a conversation that didn’t revolve around work, she realised that this was an adult life skill she really should have mastered by now.
‘You asked earlier what I do. I’m a researcher, looking at genetic links in childhood cancers. It’s such a cliché, but after we lost Charlotte I was just drawn to it.’
Rufus looked surprised. ‘You want to help other families. It’s not a cliché. It’s—I don’t know. Remarkable. Isn’t it painful? The constant reminder?’
She thought about his question. ‘It’s always painful. At least this way it’s doing some good.’
He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to slot these pieces into the puzzle picture he had of her. One that had somehow got stuck on his mistaken assumption that she was Lara.
‘How did you and Lara meet?’ Rufus asked, sparing her the trauma of trying to remember how to converse like a normal human being.
‘Oh, university. We were flatmates and she’s never really got rid of me.’
‘And the pre-Christmas thing is a one-off?’
‘Nope. Annual event. We used to try and get so drunk that it would numb me right through the big day. Last couple of years have been more just a massive inoculation of moral support.’
He smiled. ‘She sounds like a good friend.’
‘She’s the best.’
‘I’m sorry I was... I don’t know...rude about her earlier. When I thought you were her.’
