exchange a look that says, ‘This had bloody well better be good’. Only Sabina is irrepressibly relieved and happy, clapping her hands together and saying, ‘Thank God they are back safe and sound.’ Pam and Hilary have bypassed the relief stage altogether, and are waiting in petrified silence for some piece of catastrophic news to be delivered; both are certain it’s on its way.
After keeping everybody waiting for nearly fifteen minutes, Jo finally appears. ‘Neil’s taken the boys upstairs for a bath,’ she says. ‘They were filthy.’ She sighs and stares out of the window at the split-level garden that looks like an enormous grass staircase, with a perfectly square lawn on each step. ‘Look, I know you’ve all been waiting and wondering, but if it’s all right with you, I’m going to keep this brief.’ Jo sounds like a politician at a press conference. Almost as if she has listened to herself and not liked the way she sounded, she changes her tone – makes it warmer, more personal. Now there is plenty of eye contact. ‘I’m really sorry about yesterday. Neil’s sorry too. We’re . . . sorrier than we can say. Truly. We know how worried you must have been . . .’ She pauses. Her eyes fill with tears. Then she sniffs, pulls herself together. ‘Anyway, the important thing is that there’s nothing wrong and nothing for any of you to worry about. Everything’s fine – and that’s the truth. And I promise we will never mysteriously vanish again. Now, please tell me we can forget all about yesterday and have our Christmas Day today instead.’
‘Of course, Jo,’ says Sabina. ‘We are just happy you are all okay.’
‘We’re more than okay.’ Jo looks at each of us in turn, trying to drive the point home. ‘We’re fine. There’s no problem, there’s nothing we’re not telling you. Honestly.’ Her voice is full of warmth, confidence and authority – the sort of voice you want to trust.
‘Fair enough,’ says Ritchie. Hasn’t he noticed that Jo has told a very obvious untruth, in her bid to be believed? There’s nothing we’re not telling you . Of course there is; everyone listening knows there is. No one points this out, however. Everyone assumes Jo meant to say that there was nothing significant she and Neil were withholding.
‘Well . . . thank goodness,’ says Pam. Quentin nods. Hilary is busy wiping Kirsty’s mouth and doesn’t say anything.
Amber and Luke exchange another look. Luke opens his mouth to speak – to demand a proper explanation, he tells Amber later – but Jo cuts him off, saying, ‘Please, Luke, don’t make this worse for me than it already is. Can’t we put it behind us? I’ve been so looking forward to being here with everyone. I can’t bear to think that I’ve ruined Christmas.’ She attempts a joke: ‘If you knew how much Neil and I paid for this place, I promise you you’d understand.’
Luke wouldn’t have let Neil get away with it, but this is Jo – a woman trying not to cry, trying very obviously to put a brave face on something. Luke doesn’t want to make her break down in front of everyone by pushing her to reveal details she doesn’t want to share. He also gets the impression that most people in the room would rather not know; if they are not party to the problem, they can’t be expected to contribute to its resolution, and doing nothing is always easier than doing something. And, given Jo’s reluctance to talk about it, it could well be deeply private – even more reason to steer clear. Luke can feel everyone around him deciding to take Jo at her word and believe that everything is ‘more than okay’ and ‘fine’.
Amber is thinking along the same lines: if it were not something private, Jo would tell them. She’s not generally a secretive person. If it hadn’t been an unavoidable emergency, Jo wouldn’t have taken her branch of the family and disappeared without a word of explanation to anybody. Jo is neither thoughtless
After keeping everybody waiting for nearly fifteen minutes, Jo finally appears. ‘Neil’s taken the boys upstairs for a bath,’ she says. ‘They were filthy.’ She sighs and stares out of the window at the split-level garden that looks like an enormous grass staircase, with a perfectly square lawn on each step. ‘Look, I know you’ve all been waiting and wondering, but if it’s all right with you, I’m going to keep this brief.’ Jo sounds like a politician at a press conference. Almost as if she has listened to herself and not liked the way she sounded, she changes her tone – makes it warmer, more personal. Now there is plenty of eye contact. ‘I’m really sorry about yesterday. Neil’s sorry too. We’re . . . sorrier than we can say. Truly. We know how worried you must have been . . .’ She pauses. Her eyes fill with tears. Then she sniffs, pulls herself together. ‘Anyway, the important thing is that there’s nothing wrong and nothing for any of you to worry about. Everything’s fine – and that’s the truth. And I promise we will never mysteriously vanish again. Now, please tell me we can forget all about yesterday and have our Christmas Day today instead.’
‘Of course, Jo,’ says Sabina. ‘We are just happy you are all okay.’
‘We’re more than okay.’ Jo looks at each of us in turn, trying to drive the point home. ‘We’re fine. There’s no problem, there’s nothing we’re not telling you. Honestly.’ Her voice is full of warmth, confidence and authority – the sort of voice you want to trust.
‘Fair enough,’ says Ritchie. Hasn’t he noticed that Jo has told a very obvious untruth, in her bid to be believed? There’s nothing we’re not telling you . Of course there is; everyone listening knows there is. No one points this out, however. Everyone assumes Jo meant to say that there was nothing significant she and Neil were withholding.
‘Well . . . thank goodness,’ says Pam. Quentin nods. Hilary is busy wiping Kirsty’s mouth and doesn’t say anything.
Amber and Luke exchange another look. Luke opens his mouth to speak – to demand a proper explanation, he tells Amber later – but Jo cuts him off, saying, ‘Please, Luke, don’t make this worse for me than it already is. Can’t we put it behind us? I’ve been so looking forward to being here with everyone. I can’t bear to think that I’ve ruined Christmas.’ She attempts a joke: ‘If you knew how much Neil and I paid for this place, I promise you you’d understand.’
Luke wouldn’t have let Neil get away with it, but this is Jo – a woman trying not to cry, trying very obviously to put a brave face on something. Luke doesn’t want to make her break down in front of everyone by pushing her to reveal details she doesn’t want to share. He also gets the impression that most people in the room would rather not know; if they are not party to the problem, they can’t be expected to contribute to its resolution, and doing nothing is always easier than doing something. And, given Jo’s reluctance to talk about it, it could well be deeply private – even more reason to steer clear. Luke can feel everyone around him deciding to take Jo at her word and believe that everything is ‘more than okay’ and ‘fine’.
Amber is thinking along the same lines: if it were not something private, Jo would tell them. She’s not generally a secretive person. If it hadn’t been an unavoidable emergency, Jo wouldn’t have taken her branch of the family and disappeared without a word of explanation to anybody. Jo is neither thoughtless
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