CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
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EMMA
I left my parents’ house with a suitcase full of Christmas goodies: boxes of Asda’s finest mince pies, which my mother forced me to take as she was watching her weight, and gifts given to me by my family that ranged from useless scented candles to gift vouchers and pyjamas.
Amanda was waiting eagerly at her front door, her smile almost cracking her porcelain face.
“It’s always nice to be welcomed,” I said to her.
“This came for you on Christmas Eve.” She waved a midsize envelope and continued, “I wondered who you might know in the States, and then I remembered. This must be from James. Open it.”
“Merry Christmas to you too. Yes, I had a brilliant time with my family and ate lots of food. How about you, Amanda?” I said, smiling, making her wait a little bit longer.
She waved her hand.
“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ve been itching to open this, and now that you’re here, I’m not waiting any longer. Open it!”
She thrashed the envelope in my direction. It was heavier than it looked.
“Thank goodness you have self-control, eh?”
I started peeling the envelope, but stopped.
“Aye, James did say yesterday that he sent something for me.”
“You spoke to him yesterday?”
“Not only spoke to him, saw him. He had Christmas breakfast at my mum’s. Now he’s back in his hotel.”
I hung my jacket and placed the bags in the kitchen, as slow as I could, just to wind her up even more. Then, taking my time, I ripped it open. I was enjoying making her suffer. To her disappointment, there were only papers inside, and as she lost interest, she started sniffing through the bag of food my mother had packed.
“Oh my God,” I managed to say, breathless.
“What?” she answered, not really paying attention, dipping a finger in the trifle my dad made the night before.
Without looking at her, still trying my best to register what I was looking at, I said, “I’m going to need a passport.”
“What are you on about? Why would you need a passport?” Amanda’s mouth was full of custard and jelly.
“He’s bought me a ticket to New York.”
I showed Amanda the papers.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No,” I said, and showed her the printouts of the booking. Not only was I flying to a massive city, but I was going first class.
As on cue, my phone rang.
“Hello?” I squeaked, still reeling at the thought of flying.
“I take it you opened your present.”
James’s sultry voice brought me back to earth.
“Are you mental? You must be. I don’t even have a passport!” I shouted.
I didn’t mean to sound angry, but the thought of leaving, even though only for a holiday, was unnerving. I had never left Scotland. Well, only once to York for a family wedding, but I was young and I couldn’t even remember the train journey.
He actually laughed at my high-pitched voice and waited patiently until my rant was over.
“Then you better go and get one.” He made it sound so easy.
“You told me it was a little thing! I didn’t buy you a gift and you buy me a holiday. How did you keep this a secret the whole time you were at my parents’?”
“Trust me, that was a little thing. I could’ve spent more on a pair of slippers. And in a way, it’s an apology. I promised I would be over often, but work’s been crazy and I haven’t had the chance. I thought it would be easier if you came over there. See the sights and all that jazz.”
I slumped on the sofa, overwhelmed with the number of things I needed to do.
“At least I have plenty of time to get everything sorted,” I replied.
“Not until February. That way you’ll be there for the premiere of my film.”
“The one with Jane Saunders?” I asked.
His laughter confirmed it, but he still agreed, “Yeah, that’s the one.”
Speechless, I muttered, “Awesome.”
He spoke to someone in the background, and then he said, “Have you told Amanda about the party?”
“No, not yet. I just got home and haven’t had the chance. Besides, she’s busy eating all the leftover trifle.”
Amanda shouted shrilly from the kitchen, “Don’t tell him that!”
“So, what are you doing just now?” I asked, my fingers twirling with a loose thread on my jumper.
“Eating breakfast,” he said with his mouth full.
I could imagine him sitting at some fancy hotel room, staring out the window at amazing views of the city while savouring a steamy cup of coffee. He interrupted my train of thought.
“Guess what I’m eating?” he said.
“I’m not sure I want to know. Is it disgusting or will it make me jealous?”
“You will die of jealousy.” He chuckled.
I liked playing games when it had to do with food.
“Let’s see… it’s a cooked breakfast.”
“Getting warmer.”
I could hear him smile.
“Okay, you have a coffee with semi-skimmed milk and three sugars.”
I knew this for a fact. I saw him drinking it last time he was here and made a note.
“Getting hotter,” he replied.
“Bacon, eggs, and toast with loads of butter?” I guessed.
To be honest, I had no idea what he was eating, but I was enjoying myself, even if it was to keep him on the phone longer, just to hear his voice for a few more minutes.
Hearing him laugh made me smile.
“Nope, you’ve suddenly gotten very cold, almost freezing.”
“Right, you have to at least give me a clue. Is it sweet or savoury?”
“Sweet!”
One word said it all.
“Pancakes?”
“That’s right, your favourite,” he said with a mouth full—again.
My mouth watered at the thought of butter melting over the fluffy batter, drizzles of syrup sliding slowly through every layer.
“Chocolate chip pancakes, strawberries, and Canadian maple syrup. Are you dying yet?”
“You are a very, very evil man,” I said with a groan.
I could hear someone talking in the background and James answering, “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.”
I knew already that he would have to hang up.
“Hey, Emz, I’m going to have to go. Remember, Hugh will come over to pick you up on New Year’s Eve for the party. Are you wanting Helen to organise something for you to wear?”
Deflated, I answered, “I’m sure we can manage. Say hi to Ralph and Hugh from me.”
“Will do, see you soon, okay?”
The phone clicked off. Slowly, I stood and walked to the kitchen, where Amanda sat at the table with the entire bowl of trifle, eating while reading one of the TV guides.
“Do you want a soup ladle with that? It might be easier to eat it, or slurp it,” I said, sitting in front of her.
She closed the TV guide and handed me a spoon.
“I was waiting for you. Now sit and tell me. How was your Christmas?” she asked.
“First of all, don’t make any plans for Hogmanay. James is having a house-warming party and we’re invited.”
I heard her inhale as she stared at me midchew. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she was mentally planning an outfit and panicking that it might not be perfect.
“The same as always, my brother acted like he owns the place, and Mother ran around the house like a madwoman. Oh, and there was James. But you knew that already. What about you?”
“I went to my dad’s this year, up in Inverness. I don’t think I could’ve had another few days with my mum and her sex-crazed boyfriend.”
Amanda shook her head and scooped more custard from the bowl.
Amanda’s dad remarried when she was a toddler, to a devout Irish Catholic lady called Megan. Even though she’d told me before that all the pictures with Jesus at the cross and the Virgin Mary scattered around the house freaked her out, she seemed to spend more time with them and their four children, the oldest of which was only three years her junior.
“Emma!”
“Yeah?” I asked, not looking at her.
“Will there be famous people at this party?”
Her eyes were open wide. She knew the answer, but needed confirmation.