“Oh, stop worrying,” he said affectionately, as the cough subsided. “I’m hardier than I look.” But it was an uncomfortable reminder that they were both getting older—and something cold fluttered around her heart at the thought.
Memo brought her attention back around with a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. “Your mum and dad would be proud of you too, my Josie.”
“I hope that’s true.”
“Course it is,” grunted her grandad. “They’d think you were brave, going after something you love.”
“Malcolm would have adored this,” Helen agreed. “He was so proud of you when you rode your first bike—something every child accomplishes, so I can’t imagine how awful he’d be here, showing off to everyone.” She flashed Josie a wicked smile over the rim of her wine glass.
Josie smiled at them both, even though her heart twisted ever so slightly. It was another moment where she wished they were there, to see what she’d chosen to do, to see the person she’d become.
“You must come and visit us soon,” Memo said, searching in her skirt pocket for something. Memo always wore skirts with pockets—it was something Josie had always admired. “I know you’re busy this Christmas, but after that.”
“I will,” Josie promised, trying to push aside the twinge of guilt. Her grandparents hadn’t said anything, but she wondered if there was a part of them that was hurt or offended that she’d gone to Helen’s rather than to them when she came back from New York. Helen hadn’t asked her why either, had immediately said yes to the company, but the truth was Josie hadn’t been able to bear the thought of spending that length of time there, even as she felt cowardly because of it.
“Right, I’m off to have a quick ciggy,” said Memo, and Josie frowned.
“You shouldn’t. I thought you were giving up.”
Memo waved a hand in the air. “The damage is already done, my love.” From the look on Helen’s face she, too, wanted to say something to her mother about that, though Josie couldn’t help seeing the irony there, given no one could tell Helen to stop indulging in the things she loved, either.
Josie watched Memo leave the room, wrapping her coat tight around her, while her grandad waved at Bia from across the room. Then Geoffrey descended on them with a flourish. “Terribly sorry all, but I need to steal Josie away for a moment.” He grabbed her upper arm with a firm grip, as if daring her to argue. Out of the corner of her eye, Josie saw Helen, who was a good ten years older than Geoffrey, eyeing him up speculatively. To Josie’s surprise, he didn’t balk from the look, but gave Helen a little smile, bowed his head. Then marched Josie off across the stone floor.
“I want to introduce you to someone,” he said as they approached one of her photographs, then tapped someone—presumably the someone, on the shoulder. A woman, slightly older than Josie, tanned and with sun-streaked blond hair, turned, raised one eyebrow. “Charlotte—this is Josie.”
Josie smiled politely and offered her hand, trying not to display any outward sign of nerves as she wondered who this was. “Hello.”
Charlotte took her hand and shook it in a brisk, efficient way. “Hi there. I’ve been admiring your work.” Her voice was just like her handshake—cool and to the point. “I work out in Botswana, and we’re running a photography internship this year, partnering with one of the big lodges there.” She ran her gaze briefly over Josie, and Josie had the distinct impression she was being measured up. “Geoffrey spoke highly of you and suggested you may be interested in wildlife photography.” It was a statement rather than a question.
Josie was wondering what “spoke highly” actually meant, given the man had mostly been growling orders and criticisms at her over the last two months, but Geoffrey gave her a little nod. She met Charlotte’s very direct gaze, tried hard not to bite her lip. “Wow. That’s amazing, thanks so much for thinking of me.” Though the woman hadn’t actually said they were thinking of her, Josie realized, suddenly very aware of how ridiculous her hands must look, loosely hanging at her sides.
Charlotte handed her a card, which Josie took, looking down at it. “The details of the internship are on the website there. You’ll need to apply officially, but after having seen some of your work this evening I’d say the chances of you being selected for interview are high. You’ve only got another day to get the application in though—we’ve had to keep the selection process short and fast because the funding has only just been confirmed.” She smiled—efficient again, like she’d figured out just how much energy was needed for her face muscles to produce the desired effect, then nodded to Geoffrey and walked off, leaving Josie feeling slightly windblown.