Page 16 of The Christmas Express

Ember

They’re so cliquey. Were they always like this?

Maybe not Cali, but the others. I didn’t ask them to get involved in any of this.

It’s between Bryn and me, not them, they made it very clear a long time ago that I wasn’t part of their group any more, and I’ve got through a hell of a lot without their help.

Still, though. I was expecting the weather to be cold but they are definitely matching that energy.

I climb aboard my carriage, a number of carriages down from the one they all went into, and recheck the number on my ticket. I’ll be spending the next four nights in this very recliner seat.

The leather on the chair squeaks as I sit down, waking up the woman in the adjoining seat, who’s already tucked under a blanket, reclined, a gentle snore emitting from her open mouth.

Bet it doesn’t sound so gentle at three in the morning.

She blinks at me, looks out of the window, then back at me. I smile. ‘I take it these seats aren’t too bad to sleep on, then?’

‘Have we left Toronto?’ she asks, sitting up. She’s perhaps a decade older than me, with muddy walking boots on her feet and two sets of glasses atop her head.

‘Just setting off now.’

‘I’m Gwen.’

‘Ember.’

‘From England?’

‘Ember from England,’ I confirm.

‘I’m from Arizona. Been backpacking for months now, can’t get enough of it. I’m beat though.’

‘I can imagine.’ I like the sound of that, and want to hear more about Gwen, but she’s already closed her eyes again.

Right, what do I want out of my backpack that would be worth keeping in the seat-back pocket... I pull out a few essentials and settle in, dropping a message to my friends at home to let them know I’m on my way.

As the train picks up speed, a gentle rhythmic chug running underfoot which sways me back and forth, I let my eyelids soften. We’ll be out of the city soon, making our way through the forests of Ontario, and one thing I know that’ll calm my soul is the sight of endless spruce and pine trees.

Not long after we’ve set off, at right about the time I’m wondering if I could switch seats because Gwen is at it again with the snoring, my phone vibrates with a message from Cali.

Will you join us for lunch? Restaurant car at 1pm?

They’re making an effort, at least Cali is, but I don’t know if I’d rather she didn’t at this point. Can’t we just see each other in Vancouver?

However. What if this does turn into a second chance for Bryn and me? Then her friends will probably become my friends again. I should make an effort.

But just to be dropped again if anything goes wrong? I don’t know if I can invest myself again in friendships that can all disappear overnight.

‘What are you deep in thought about?’ Gwen asks. Turns out, she’s stopped snoring and is now regarding me over the top of her blanket.

‘Whether to meet some people on the train for lunch.’

‘Friends?’

‘Not really. You wanna come?’

‘Not really,’ she replies. ‘But you should go.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s lunch. Food is good. Company is good. Just say yes.’

I’m not used to someone telling me what to do these days. I weirdly kind of like it. So, with a heart full of here-goes-nothing, I reply with a see you there .

The restaurant car has a delicious smell of rich gravy and red wine, and my stomach growls as it remembers I haven’t had a proper meal since my street snacks in Toronto last night.

Sara is on her own at one of the tables of four, and I dither on the spot.

Should I wait for Cali? She’s the one who invited me, after all.

And I don’t think the others are exactly thrilled to have me along for the ride.

But she looks up, puts down her phone, and her eyes flick from me to the chair opposite her.

‘Hey,’ I say, sitting down.

‘Hi. Cali’s in the toilet. The others will be here in a minute, probably.’

I’m surprised they didn’t walk down the train together, but whatever.

Her comment about Cali awakens a small memory in me, of Cali and Bryn doubled over with laughter about some dumb joke I told, Cali shrieking that she was going to wet herself any minute.

Then I think she did a little bit. It was kind of funny.

Beyond the window, tall trees of rich, emerald green whoosh by, their branches frosted with fresh snow. I can’t tell if it’s warm in the carriage, if it’s an illusion caused by looking at the snow, or if I’m just physically uncomfortable since I can’t think of anything to say.

‘Hi, how’s your compartment?’ Cali reappears from behind me and slots in the seat next to mine. She’s chirpy, acting like there’s nothing strange about me being here, or perhaps she’s just plastering over the insanity of the situation the only way she knows how.

‘It’s, um, nice. I’m just in a recliner seat though. I’m next to a nice lady.’

‘Oh. Well, that sounds nice,’ she agrees, and I get that sense again that she’s thinking, Don’t poke the bear, everyone remain calm .

‘Yeah.’

Joss and Joe walk in next, closely followed by Luke, who takes a seat opposite Cali and beside Sara. She just rolled her eyes. Huh.

Joe takes a seat across the aisle from Luke, Joss across the aisle from Cali. I swallow, my throat dry. I’m such a gooseberry on this trip, and now they’re probably extra mad they can’t all sit together because I’ve taken one of the prime spots.

There’s a strained silence between our tables. Joss’s cutlery clinks as she shoves it aside to rest her phone on the table. Luke clears his throat. Sara shifts in her seat, causing the soft leather to creak. The train glides along its tracks with a ba-doom ba-doom, ba-doom ba-doom .

‘Welcome aboard – can I get you folks started with something to drink?’

‘Oh, thank fuck,’ Joss mutters across the aisle. ‘Wine, please.’

‘I’ll have the same,’ I exhale. ‘Red. Thanks.’

‘Make that three.’

‘Four.’

Looks like we’re all going straight for the wine, then.

When the server leaves to get our drinks – I hope she’s quick with my wine – I wait for someone to speak.

But still nobody does. I glance at each of them in turn, and all I see are stony faces, pressed together lips, eyes fixated on the view outside the window, or their phones, or the ceiling.

Except Cali, she keeps taking small inhales like she’s thought of something to say then scraps that idea.

Joss huffs out of the blue, and shoves her phone back in her pocket. ‘Why are we even having lunch together? This is such a farce.’

‘We have to eat,’ mutters Luke.

Cali fiddles with the sleeve of her jumper. ‘I just thought we should make an effort. We don’t know anyone else on the train. I’m not being...’ She trails off, and a blush creeps over her.

The wine arrives, big glasses of it, and we all knock back some gulps and make our orders from the menu.

Like with the wine, we all order the same thing – the pasta with a starter salad – which comes as no surprise.

This group always used to end up ordering the same meal because whatever the first person chose the next would worry about getting food envy, and it was a trickle effect down until, as usual, they all ended up having the same thing.

I used to find it funny. Now I find it annoying, for no real reason.

But I don’t want to change my order now and stick out even more.

Oh, for God’s sake, I can’t bear it. ‘I know you’re all angry at me,’ I state. ‘I can get off at the next station and head back to Toronto if you’re going to let it ruin your Christmas.’

‘No, we’re not angry at you,’ says Cali, shaking her head so quickly her curls ripple.

‘I’m a little angry at her,’ says Joss.

‘Give it a rest,’ Joe says with a sigh.

‘It’s true.’ Joss leans around Cali and looks me dead in the eye. ‘I’m just being truthful with you. What you’re doing is messed up and I feel like we’re now babysitting you.’

I shake my head and hold her gaze. ‘It’s not messed up. I’m sorry you feel that way, but this is between Bryn and me. And I don’t need you babysitting me.’

‘It’s not between you and Bryn, Bryn doesn’t even know you’re in the country.’ Joss stops talking and looks around at the others. ‘And I can’t decide if we should tell her, warn her, or hope “the ex” here just goes home.’ She jabs a finger towards me.

I take another large gulp of my wine, steady my voice, and say, ‘I hope you don’t tell her. I don’t want to ambush her, but I also don’t think she needs the information to come via all of you. Who are a little biased.’

‘You’re a little deluded,’ Joss mutters.

Cali let’s out a sharp exhale. ‘Can we just have lunch?’ She holds her glass aloft in an ill-timed cheers, but she’s the type of person you don’t want to leave hanging, so we all reach over to clink our glasses against hers.

‘Here’s to... I don’t know... being in Canada. To Christmas on a train.’

‘To Bryn’s wedding,’ Joss says, arching a brow at me. Stupid cow.

‘To a merry Christmas,’ Luke says. I’m not sure if he’s being facetious – I remember he always had a dry sense of humour – but we all clink our glasses again.

‘It’s been a while since we’ve done that.

Doesn’t feel quite as authentic as it used to, does it?

’ remarks Sara when we all go to put our glasses down.

I pick mine up immediately, somehow feeling protected having a drink between me and them, and I shrink back into my seat to watch the conversation and get out of Joss’s eyeline.

Our salads are brought over swiftly. Across from me, Luke’s eyes keep flicking to Cali. It’s fast, like he doesn’t want to be caught. But I caught him, so I expect the others can see it too. I remember telling Bryn I thought they had a thing for each other, but she said I was imagining it.

I have a little urge to throw a grenade into the middle of the table and ask him straight-out, but I push it down.

And then Joss says...

‘So, Cali and Luke, you’re not going to suddenly confess you’ve been hooking up again on this trip, are you?’