Bia pouted. “It goes with my new hair though.” She ran her fingers through her hair—a coppery brunette as of two days ago—as if to prove the point.
Josie shook her head and crossed her legs to settle in. “No. Put it away.”
Bia huffed but did just that, then flung several things from her wardrobe onto the floor behind her before doing the same thing with her drawers—a slightly unconventional method of packing. While she was doing that, Josie got her phone out and reread the email for the millionth time. When Bia looked over to her, she knew she wasn’t exactly being subtle.
Bia, temporarily giving up on the packing, moved and plonked herself next to Josie so she could read over her shoulder, even though Josie had already read the email out loud to her—twice. “Did you decide what you’re going to do yet?” Bia asked.
Josie closed the email—it didn’t change, no matter how many times she read it. “No,” she said. After meeting Charlotte, she’d gone for it and applied for the internship in Africa, figuring that just applying meant nothing—she might not get selected, only one person did so the chances were low. But now she’d been offered the job. She’d actually gotten it after her interview a couple of days ago, and they’d given her a week to decide, given the placement started at the end of January. It all felt a bit much, making such a massive life decision in such a short frame of time.
“I really don’t know,” Josie said, tapping her phone with her forefinger. “I’m not sure I can do the whole living abroad thing—I always thought I’d be better off just staying in one place and settling.”
“You did it with New York,” Bia pointed out.
“Yes, but that was different—that was because of Oliver, because I had someone else there. It was a big deal, yes, but I knew I’d have one familiar thing. Besides,” she continued on a sigh, “I proved my inability to hack it when I moved back to England, didn’t I?”
“That was because of Oliver, not New York.” She prodded Josie in the ribs. “Which you well know.”
Josie shook back her hair, looked at Bia with what she imagined was a sort of pained expression. “It’s just so ridiculous though, isn’t it, going off to Botswana of all places for an internship?”
Bia shrugged. “Doesn’t seem so ridiculous to me, if you want to do wildlife photography. Surely you need to go somewhere like that.”
“Yes, but…I don’t know, isn’t it the type of thing you’re supposed to do at the beginning of your twenties? You know, go somewhere obscure to ‘find yourself’ or whatever?”
Bia pursed her lips as she considered. “Well,” she said slowly, “maybe you’re not going to ‘find yourself.’ Maybe you’d be going because you’ve finally found yourself.”
Josie stared at her, then broke into a smile. “I quite like that.”
Bia grinned. “Good, because I was worried it was going to sound ridiculous.”
Josie’s phone rang in her hand, and Bia pushed off the bed to keep packing. Josie glanced down at the screen, and smiled as she answered. “Hi, Aunty Helen. Sorry, I meant to text, I got here safely and we’re just—”
“Hi, darling.” Helen’s voice was sharper than usual and Josie automatically tensed. “Now, I don’t want you to panic, but Memo’s in hospital.”
“What?” Josie’s spine turned rigid, and Bia turned to look at her, frowning. Josie’s hand felt suddenly viselike on the phone. “Why? What’s happened?”
“I’m…” Helen took a deep breath. “She’s had a heart attack—Grandad took her into A&E this evening, and they’ve admitted her.” Another breath, and this time it sounded like Helen was trying to choke back some emotion. That, above all, made Josie feel cold. “She’s OK—I’ve spoken to her on the phone and she’s insisting she’s fine, that everyone’s making a big fuss, but they have to do some tests and keep her in for observation and, well, it’s a heart attack. I’m on my way there now from Guildford. Dad just called me, but despite what Mum said he’s in a state so I said I’d call you.” Dad. Mum. Not Grandad and Memo. The slip made Josie’s lips tremble.
“But…but she was at the exhibition,” Josie said, a little numbly. “She was fine.” This made no sense. She’d seemed happy, healthy. Weren’t you usually overweight or something when you had a heart attack? Wasn’t there supposed to be some warning sign, something that meant they could prepare for this? She felt Bia sink back onto the bed next to her, rub her shoulder gently.