Page 12 of The Christmas Express

‘I know, but...’ I don’t know what to say. She’s right. What’s in it for her? ‘Ember?’

She looks me in the eye and I can tell she knows what I’m thinking by the way her head tilts to the side. ‘Please don’t say anything to Bryn. I only told you so that you wouldn’t go and blab to her that I was on the plane. You know that.’

‘I have to tell her.’ My tummy squirms, but despite everything, Bryn is where my loyalty has to lie. ‘I don’t have a choice. Unless...’

Ember narrows her eyes at me, and she has every right to because this is such a dick move I’m about to pull, but it’s the only thing I can think of.

‘If you come with us, I’ll hold off telling her.’

Behind me, the carousel squeaks, suitcases thud to the floor, chatter drifts in and out, Joe’s tummy rumbles. Eventually Ember clarifies through a sigh, ‘You won’t tell her?’

I shrug my shoulders. ‘I can only say I won’t tell her yet. We’ll just have to see how things play out.’

Holding eye contact is so uncomfortable, but I don’t back down, and after what feels like a hundred and fifty years, Ember mutters, ‘When does the train leave?’

‘First thing in the morning. Bryn’s organised it all, including booking the five of us into a hotel for the night here in Toronto. I’m sure we could get you a room too.’

‘We could chip in for your ticket,’ Joe offers.

‘You are still such an idiot.’ Joss kicks him with her foot.

‘I don’t need you to do that, I can sort myself out.’

Ember’s words come out flat, emotionless. She must be so mad at me. The yuck feeling in my stomach is still there, but also, thank gawd for that. ‘You’ll come with us?’

‘Yep.’ Ember waits while I scribble down the details of the train, from what little Bryn has given to us, then says, ‘I have to go and cancel my flight. I’ll see you at the train station in the morning.’

‘Shall I give you details of the hotel we’re going to?’ I call after her.

‘No thanks.’

‘See you tomorrow, then?’

‘I guess so.’

She walks away and I turn back to the others. ‘A night in Toronto,’ I say, for lack of being able to come up with anything more creative. ‘Do we want to do something together?’

Joss shakes her head. ‘We’re about to be stuffed together inside a train for four nights. I, for one, would relish the me time.’

Joe and Sara mumble agreements, and although Luke hesitates, our eyes meeting again and that familiarity and electricity sending a tiny shock through me, even he then looks away. A sweep of sadness, perhaps weariness, crosses his face. ‘I think I’ll just go to the hotel and get room service.’

‘Alright.’ I nod.

I don’t know if Luke is really spending his evening in Toronto just in his room – I kind of suspect not. But even though I keep having to blink hard to keep my eyes from drooping, and replay all the good moments of interaction today to try and replace the bad ones, I can’t resist a new city.

After we’ve checked in, I sit in my hotel room, alone. It’s too quiet. I need to get out there. I need to be surrounded by people and noise, and maybe some big guys on ice skates squashing their bloodied faces against some Plexiglas?

Mid-December in Toronto has me wrapping up in all the layers from my once-carefully packed case at the same time. I hit the streets in the dark, following the map on my phone to the Scotiabank Arena, where the Toronto Maple Leafs will be playing ice hockey tonight.

It’s beautiful here, the city large and lit up for Christmas, and as I get closer to the stadium I’m surrounded by blue and white hockey jerseys, the joyous crowd sliding perfectly alongside the festive atmosphere.

‘One, please,’ I say to the lady at the ticket counter. ‘Just, whatever the cheapest ticket is.’

I have a short while before the game starts, so I take a stroll in through the nearest door, and my breath immediately plumes as the cold emanates from the gigantic ice rink in the centre of the arena.

The overhead lights are bright, like full moons on a frosty night above the rising bleachers of seats that tower around the rink.

As well as the excited chatter from the crowd, music pumps out, and the rapid-fire whoosh of blades slicing as the skates of the team hit the rink while they warm up.

It’s loud, it’s crowded, it’s going to keep me awake, and I can barely hear my thoughts as they try and sneak back over to Luke and my ex-friends. ‘It’s perfect,’ I exhale, my words steaming the Plexiglas in front of me.

‘First time here?’ says a man with broad shoulders, stubble and a blue jersey on.

I nod. ‘It’s cool, huh?’

The man chuckles and bends down to lace up his boots. ‘It’s my home away from home.’

‘My home is nothing like this. I mean, I live in London so I guess we have all the people and sports games and stuff like this. But I’ve never been to an ice hockey game. You just call it “hockey”, right?’

‘Right,’ he says, straightening up and glancing towards the ice.

‘In the UK, hockey is generally the grass version.’

‘You in Toronto for Christmas?’

‘Well...’ I take a deep breath and launch into a monologue about exactly how I came to be here tonight. A hundred years later, I wrap up with, ‘And so now we’re all about to get on this train in the morning and the distance between us all feels so weird, you know? Especially with Luke.’

Someone on the ice is waving at me, so I wave back and then refocus my attention on the burly man. ‘Listen, I’m sorry to cut this short but I better find my seat, I think they want to start soon.’

‘I think you’re right,’ he says, but instead of heading away from the rink, he starts towards it, and—oh! Those aren’t boots on his feet, they’re skates.

‘Do you skate?’ I ask, pointing down.

He chuckles in Canadian again. ‘A little.’

‘That’s nice. So what do you think I should do? About Luke?’

‘Fight for him,’ says the man, and with a wave, he steps onto the ice and speeds into a sweeping curve, spraying ice crystals and waving up at the seats, causing a cheer in the crowd. His face appears on the big screen.

‘You are so lucky to have talked to him,’ a woman with flushed cheeks says as I find my seat. She’s fanning her face with a programme, her eyes fixed on the big screen. ‘I have posters of him all over my whole house. And a tattoo of his face on my ass. Do you want to see?’

Whoa. ‘Sure.’

The woman is about to show me when a horn blasts and the rink comes alive as the game begins, and around me the fans rise in a wave of blue. I let myself become just a face in the crowd. Anonymous. Just how I like it.