Niela sat with her knees pressed together, acutely aware of everyone’s stares. Someone had hurriedly produced a glass of red
wine, which she held in her hand, not sure whether to drink it or not. Josh was sitting opposite her, his attention momentarily
claimed by the red-haired woman whose name she’d already forgotten – Mary? Marie? She seemed to be married to the older brother,
Rafe. Next to her, having got up to make room for herself and Josh, was the other wife – Julia? She was married to
Aaron, who sat on her left. All three were silent. No one knew quite what to say. There were plates of half-served food congealing
on the table. They’d arrived in the middle of Christmas lunch and swiftly put an end to it. It was strange. Back home in Mogadishu,
everyone would just continue eating; it didn’t matter when people arrived or who they were … all were welcome, at all times.
Here in England, it was different. You had to be invited, anticipated, prepared for. To do what she and Josh had done was,
quite simply, rude. She took another sip of wine and stole a quick look across the table, where Josh sat drinking his wine
in silence. The redhead had obviously given up trying to coax a conversation out of him.
‘Sorry, where did you say you were from?’ The older brother addressed her suddenly.
‘Somalia.’
‘Somalia?’ Julia looked at her, surprised. ‘You’re a long way from home.’
Niela met her gaze. Julia was dark-haired and quite coldly beautiful – ice-blue eyes, a porcelain complexion and a rather
harsh voice that was at odds with her appearance. ‘Yes,’ she said simply, refusing to be drawn.
‘D’you miss it?’ It was the redhead. She was American; Niela caught the accent on the back of her tongue.
‘Yes, I do. Don’t you?’
She saw from the way a faint blush spread across the woman’s features that she’d made her point. She was also away from home.
‘D’you go back often to visit?’ Rafe asked.
‘There’s a war on, in case you hadn’t noticed.’ Josh’s voice was terse.
‘Where did you two meet?’ the other brother asked suddenly.
‘None of your business,’ Josh broke in. His eyes flickered over his brother with a look Niela couldn’t fathom. There was another
short, embarrassed silence. ‘Right.’ Josh stood up suddenly. ‘We’re off. Say goodbye to Mother.’
Niela put down her wine glass and scrambled to her feet.
They’d been in the house all of ten minutes. She was bewildered. They’d come all the way across London on Christmas Day for
this? She followed Josh up the stairs, something close to anger surging in her chest. No wonder he wanted nothing to do with
them. What kind of a family had he brought her into?
Diana stood by the bedroom window, looking down on to the garden. But it wasn’t the garden she saw – it was Josh. Josh as
a baby, staring up at her from the cocoon of blankets the day she’d brought him home from the hospital. He was a June baby;
the weather that year had been warm. She’d taken him outside on the second or third day, laying him gently down on the grass,
swaddled in blankets, Rafe and Aaron hovering nearby, already entranced with this tiny, perfect baby brother she’d brought.
Things were so different back then. They couldn’t stop staring at him, peering into the crib that had been theirs before his.
Even then the differences were marked – Josh’s olive-skinned face and dark hair and eyes a stark contrast to their fairness.
She couldn’t remember when their fascination turned to irritation. It was the crying, then the screaming. Josh was unable
to settle. No sooner had she put him down to sleep than he began wailing; no sooner had she fed him that his angry screams
began again. He seemed consumed with a rage that no one could understand. It began to take its toll on them, all of them.
She remembered Harvey’s face, numb with exhaustion as he stumbled from the operating theatre to the house and the sound of
crying that never stopped. The boys too were affected. ‘Why’s he always crying?’ Rafe would ask her, only a hundred times
a day. ‘What’ve
we
done?’ She couldn’t answer; she didn’t understand it herself. She tried everything. She and Harvey began to quarrel – she
was over-attentive; she wasn’t attentive enough. She fussed over him and ignored the other two. She put Josh’s needs before
everyone else’s – no wonder the child was becoming unmanageable. She ought to put her foot down.
Leave him alone. He’ll stop screaming soon enough, you’ll see
. He didn’t. She couldn’t stand it any longer. After that last argument with Harvey, she’d taken Josh
and driven down to Mougins alone – that long, miserable drive, and then the shock and terror that had followed. A kaleidoscope
more dreadful than anything anyone could possibly imagine. Her mind skirted dangerously around the territory she avoided every
single second of every single day. Stop it. She drew in deep, shuddering breaths. It took all of her formidable control to
stop herself from entering into the dark cave of her memory. It was that girl. Josh’s wife. When she opened the door and saw
her standing there, half hidden by her son, she’d been unable to stop the thought running through her mind: he’s not so dark
after all. Next to her, the dark, rich colour she’d always feared in Josh paled; he became more like her, like the others.
Like her son. Stop.
Stop
. She clutched at the material of her dress, as if she could somehow physically push the thought away. The rest of the family
were waiting downstairs for the lunch to proceed. She had to go back down; she
had
to. Behind her, she heard the toilet flush and the sound of the tap being turned on. Harvey would come out of the bathroom
any minute now, cross the floor and wrap his arms around her as he always did when what he called her ‘dark moods’ came on.
She heard the door open.
‘Are you all right, my love?’ He came to stand behind her. ‘I know it’s a bit of a shock.’ She leaned back into his embrace
as if he might shield her from herself. How narrow the gap was between the balance of their lives and its complete destruction.
A wrong word, a slip of the tongue, a gesture made out of place … and the whole thing would come crashing down around her.
She thought back to the last time she’d seen Rufus.
We can’t talk now
. No, we can’t.
MADDY
London, Christmas Day, 1997
Christmas lunch had not been a success; an unqualified disaster would have been closer to the mark. In fact, the only good
thing to be said about the whole tortuous afternoon was that she’d caught a glimpse of a smile on Julia’s face when Diana
had come back downstairs and asked where everyone was. Maddy couldn’t help herself. The words were out before she could stop
them. ‘They’ve fucked off and gone home. I would’ve too, to be honest. You didn’t make them feel very welcome.’ As soon as
she spoke, she saw from Diana’s shocked expression that she’d overstepped the mark – by a
very
long shot. Diana said nothing, but the thin, angry line of her mouth spoke volumes. Rafe stared at Maddy as if she’d temporarily
lost her mind. And then she’d looked quickly at Julia. Had she imagined it? The faintest hint of a smile, a ghostly flicker
of solidarity? Despite her own embarrassment, Maddy was touched.
‘Harvey, would you be a dear and fetch the turkey?’ Diana asked icily, her eyes sweeping coldly over Maddy, then moving away.
She’d been dismissed. ‘I do hope it won’t be all dried out.’ And that was that. The case, such as it was, was closed. The
rest of the Christmas lunch proceeded uneasily but smoothly.
Now, sitting next to an uncharacteristically silent Rafe as they drove back home, going back over the events of the afternoon
in her mind, she recalled again the look Julia had flashed her. What had she meant by it?
Well done
?
Good for you
? It was hard to tell, but the warmth it generated stayed with Maddy all afternoon. She’d almost been on the verge of asking
Julia if she wanted to meet up or have a coffee perhaps, but she’d stopped herself just in time. No need to make an even greater
fool of herself. Yes, she was lonely, and yes, it would have been nice to have someone to talk to other than Rafe and the
few shopkeepers
she’d struck up a passing acquaintance with, but there’d been no indication that Julia felt the same way. In fact, aside from
Diana, Maddy had never met anyone quite as self-contained as Julia … she didn’t need anyone, least of all an overeager, desperate
American with an eating disorder. She stopped herself just in time. Her thoughts had a nasty habit of running away with her.
That was the problem with not having anyone to talk to. She
didn’t
have an eating disorder. A little difficulty around food, perhaps, every once in a while. Certainly not a
disorder
.
‘You OK?’ She turned to Rafe, anxious to break her sudden strange train of thought.
‘Mmm.’ Rafe was distracted.
‘What did you think of her?’
‘Who?’
‘Josh’s wife.’
He made a small face. ‘With Josh you never know.’
She glanced at him. ‘What do you mean? What on earth happened between you guys?’
‘Nothing,’ Rafe said shortly. ‘He’s just … he’s just difficult, that’s all.’
‘Come on. There’s more to it than that, surely?’
He shook his head. ‘There isn’t. Can we drop it, please? I don’t feel like talking about Josh right now.’
‘But you never want to talk about him. I’m just curious—’
‘Maddy. Please. Just drop it, will you?’
Maddy sighed. She turned her head to look out of the window. She could feel the resurgence of her old, familiar panic. How
was she ever supposed to get a handle on things when everyone around her refused to talk? She thought of Niela, sitting there
at the end of the table, so still and beautiful and composed, her face giving nothing away. And Josh. She’d seen something
in him that first time, a few months back. He was strong and remarkably self-assured, but he was watchful too, as if for all
his solidity and confidence he could be hurt. She’d seen it in him again that afternoon, when he’d stepped into the dining
room and seen them all ranged against him. Looking into
his face, she’d had the impression she was looking into a mask. His expression was one of someone who was so deep inside himself
that he was no longer aware of what he might have to conceal. She’d recognised it because it was the look she herself wore
when she was on stage. He was acting out a part, she realised. But which one?
Aaron and Julia left shortly after Maddy and Rafe. Diana was withdrawn all afternoon. She kissed them both – much to Julia’s
surprise – and stood at the door waving until the taxi was out of sight.
‘God, what a lunch,’ Julia murmured against Aaron’s jacket as they sped off. She’d had rather too much to drink after Josh
and Niela’s departure – she could feel the beginning of a headache coming on. ‘I felt a bit sorry for her, you know.’
‘I know. Poor Mother. Trust Josh to ruin things.’
‘I wasn’t talking about your mother,’ Julia replied, a touch impatiently. ‘I was talking about Niela. It must’ve been hard.’
‘What?’ Aaron’s voice held a note of scorn.
‘You know … being introduced to the family like that. What is it with you lot anyway?’ Aaron didn’t reply. He yawned, slowly
and deliberately, and turned his face to the window. ‘No, I’m serious,’ Julia went on. ‘What happened between you and Josh?
Why’d you all take against him like that?’
‘Can we stop talking about Josh for once?’ Aaron’s voice was tetchy.
Julia felt her own temper begin to rise. ‘What d’you mean, ‘‘for once’’? We never talk about him.
You
never talk about him. I just don’t understand it. Why—’
‘Jules, just drop it, please. It’s been a long day and I’m tired. Josh has already ruined lunch, I don’t want him to ruin
my night as well.’
‘But—’
‘Drop it, will you?’ Aaron’s voice rose a notch.
Julia’s lips tightened. ‘Fine,’ she muttered, turning her own head in the opposite direction. ‘If that’s your answer …’
‘It is.’ Aaron didn’t speak again until the cab pulled up in front of their flat. They walked upstairs to the front door in
silence.
Some Christmas this has turned out to be, Julia thought to herself angrily as she took off her silk blouse and trousers, folding
them neatly and hanging them up. She walked into the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind her. Sod Aaron. Sod them all.
Couldn’t they see how lucky they were to have one another? She’d never met a family more careless of each other’s feelings.
None of them knew what it was like to be without, that was the problem. She felt the unmistakable tug of tears in her throat
as she turned on the tap and began brushing her teeth. She thought of Maddy suddenly. There’d been a moment at the table when
she’d almost laughed out loud. She hadn’t thought Maddy capable of the sharp, stinging kind of comment that ran around perpetually
in her own brain.
They’ve fucked off and gone home. I would’ve too, to be honest. You didn’t make them feel very welcome
. She smiled, in spite of her tears. She’d almost been too afraid to look at Diana’s face, but of course Diana had affected
not to notice. She blew her nose, taken aback by the unexpected warmth she’d suddenly discovered for Maddy. Perhaps she’d
misjudged her? No, she thought to herself firmly. She hadn’t.
NIELA/JOSH
London, Christmas Day, 1997
Josh was silent all evening. As soon as they came through the door, he’d switched on the television. He sat on the couch,
watching the news. Niela knew better than to press him for an explanation of the day’s events, but she saw, as she quietly
went about the task of folding laundry and setting up the ironing
board, that his mind was elsewhere, not on the television or even in the room where she was at all. She said nothing, but
after a while became aware of a change in the atmosphere between them. He looked up once or twice, but she kept her gaze averted,
concentrating on the smooth, clean hiss of the iron and the smell of fresh linen as she pressed the sheets. She understood
him in more ways than he perhaps knew. He was waiting until the anger in him had died down. Staying quiet until he knew where
things stood, inside him, was the only way he could cope. She’d seen that in him in Djibouti; here in London, the understanding
served her just as well.