Page 25 of The Christmas Express

Cali

This is so surreal. Here I am wandering about in another new city, in the middle of Canada, in the snow, it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow.

I’m on my way to a thing called the Arctic Glacier Winter Park and so far I’ve run into both Sara and Joe heading the same way.

It could almost be like old times, like when London got heavy snowfall and we all went for a wander about and people were building snowmen outside Harrods and stuff.

Except, this time, we’re all pretending we haven’t seen each other.

I’m not sure what to expect from the park, but when I arrive, I shiver with excitement (and cold).

I study the sign. Looks like you can walk or skate along the trails, and I’m about to start walking because Lord knows how shit I’ll be on ice skates, I’ve only ever done it around in circles on ice rinks that pop-up in the centre of London.

Then I spot Joss, Ember and Luke in the line to get some rental skates.

Traitors!

No, that’s not fair. Luke and Ember always got on well, maybe it’s good they hang out; she might listen to him when he tries to talk her out of crashing the wedding. The Ember and Joss duo are puzzling to me, but from here it certainly doesn’t look like they’ve become fast friends again.

Where have Sara and Joe gone? I look around, and see them nearby, angled away from each other, Joe on his phone and Sara ordering a mulled wine from a vendor.

‘Shall we go skating?’ I ask, trudging over the snow to them.

‘We?’ asks Sara, pulling her curls into a messy low bun before pulling her hat down over her ears.

‘We don’t have to stick together,’ I say. We don’t actually have to do this together at all, but I guess I’m feeling a little left out.

‘I’m sorry, but what do you think we’re doing here?’

I glance at Joe. ‘We’re spending the evening in Winnipeg, at the same place, so I thought we might as well spend it together.’

‘But what are we ’ – she gestures at the three of us – ‘ doing ?’

‘I guess we’re reconnecting,’ offers up Joe.

‘Because Bryn says so?’

‘Because Bryn’s getting married,’ I answer.

‘Then what?’

She has a point. We idle beside the mulled wine cart, the sound of Christmas in the city humming around us, of snow under boots, of laughter drifting over from the skating trails. My breath is visible in the cold, lit up by the glow of Christmas lights.

‘I don’t know,’ I say honestly. ‘I think it’s too early to tell.’

Sara nods. It’s not exactly a yes or no, but she heads towards the queue for the skates so I totter behind her, Joe beside me.

I’m given a hefty pair of black ice-skating boots which I spend a long time trying to lace on through cold fingers. My gloves are not Canada-appropriate, the wool too thin and the fingers too loose so I keep tying the fingertips into the boot laces.

Just as I’m about to give up, someone crouches in front of me, takes my foot and yanks the laces tightly.

‘Oh! Thank you—’ I look up to see a head of sandy hair, and Luke’s fingers working their way around the lacing.

‘Remember when you broke your arm but you still wanted to wear those lace-up boots every day?’ he asks. His voice is low, and not exactly warm but almost like a small cinder burning in the darkness.

‘Yeah. You helped me.’

He places my foot down and puts his hand under my other calf, lifting it to tie that skate on too. As he does so, he glances up at me, and for a millisecond we search each other’s faces in the frosty air.

As quickly as he started, he finishes, pats the top of my boot, and stands, turning away without another word, and glides off down a trail upon his own skates.

He’s always there for me, even after all this time. Is it too much to think he might still care, still want to be my friend, even if he’s with someone else?

I exhale, long and slow, watching the space where he’d been.

I am not very good at ice skating. And that’s okay, it’s fine, because it’s not like I need this skill in everyday life.

Did you know that there’s a canal in Ottawa that freezes over every winter, so commuters skate on it to and from work?

I think I would have a broken limb every week if I lived there.

I’m not terrible, but you know that satisfying whoosh, whoosh, whoosh that some people make as they ice skate? I don’t make that noise, mine is more of a thonk, thonk, thonk-whoops-thonk .

I’ve been tottering along the trails on my own for a while, gripping trees as I pass, and sitting down when I need to pause to take a photo. During one such moment, Joe appears beside me, and helps me back to my feet.

‘How’s your evening?’ I ask him.

‘Good. This is nice. And it’s nice to get away from my sister.’

‘How is Joss now?’

‘Still in a strop with me. As usual. It doesn’t take much to set her off, really.’

‘Do you two see much of each other?’ I ask.

Joe shakes his head, burying his chin into his jacket neck for a moment. ‘Nah. At holidays and family functions, but that’s about it.’

‘That’s sad,’ I blurt. ‘You two used to be so close.’

Joe makes a noise. ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ he says, eventually.

‘You wouldn’t?’

‘We were close in proximity, in the townhouse. Close in that we’re family and trusted each other and thought we could run a business together.

But I wouldn’t have said we ever were the best of siblings.

Remember, before I moved to London and Joss let me become her flatmate, I hadn’t seen her for over a year. ’

‘Do you miss her?’ I ask him.

‘Not really,’ he says with a laugh, but there’s a sadness in his smile. He misses her. He must do. ‘Have you missed her?’

He looks like he wants to ask if anyone’s missed him.

And this is the thing about Joe, the reason – as bad as I feel – that people think of him as a little weak.

He never stands up for himself. He never says what he wants or needs.

But that’s him, it’s not up to us to try and change him, is it?

Instead of pointing out any of this, I say, ‘To be totally honest, I missed you all at the beginning, at least, after a cooling off period, but it’s been so long now. ’

I still miss all of you , I want to say, but I bite my lip. I don’t want to be the first to admit it, I don’t want to be the only one who feels this way. Instead, I say, ‘Who’s going to share with Joss tonight, then?’

Three hours on solid ground passed in a blur, and before you could say Merry Christmas Eve Eve I’m climbing back aboard our train, ready for our second night.

I’m just letting out a giant yawn in the space between carriages, when Ember jumps up onto the train behind me. She’s out of breath, her cheeks pink, and she drops her bag down with a heavy plonk. It almost sounds like she’s got all of her things in there with her.

‘Good evening?’ I ask.

She nods, catching her breath. ‘Yeah. I think so. Yes. I nearly...’

‘What?’

Ember stops and shakes her head. ‘Nothing. I’m just really looking forward to seeing Bryn again. I know you don’t want to hear that.’

I don’t. But I think I’m beginning to understand it.

‘Do you want to get a drink?’ Ember gestures towards the other end of the train.

‘Uh...’ I look down into my carriage. ‘We’re switching around the sleeping arrangements because of the whole, you know, Joss refusing to be in the same space as her beloved brother. So, I’d better...’

‘Sure.’ She nods. ‘Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be in the bar car.’

It’s one thing inviting Ember to join us for meals, but is going for a drink with her one-on-one a little strange? How would I feel if Bryn did that with one of my exes? Speaking of...

‘Is Luke back?’ I call to Ember as she’s retreating. ‘Just so, you know, we can do this room switch.’

‘As far as I know. He left us about half an hour ago, said he was ready for bed.’

‘He left you and Joss? How did that go?’ Suddenly I’m more awake.

Ember nods. ‘It was interesting. It was okay. Goodnight.’

With that, she walks away, and I head to my compartment. As I’m about to enter, Joe comes out of the one next door, holding his toothbrush. ‘I’ve put my things in with Luke, and Sara’s just moved her things in with Joss. You’ve got the place to yourself tonight.’

‘Oh, great,’ I said. ‘Is Luke asleep?’

‘He’s reading.’

‘Oh. Great,’ I repeat.

Joe and I seem to have run out of conversation for tonight, so with a wave of his toothbrush, he squeezes past me and disappears to the communal bathroom at the end of the carriage.

In my compartment, I close the door and sit on my bunk, just as the train pulls away from the city of Winnipeg.

Big city lights fade to suburban illuminations; Christmas lights around porches, street lamps, two-storey office buildings.

I was so tired after walking around Winnipeg, but now I’m back on board, in the warm, in the quiet, my yawns have died right down.

I stand up and pace my compartment, all two steps of it, back and forth. If I were in London, and couldn’t sleep, I could go to a show, a club, a bar, an event, meet up with friends. Not that I ever really did those things spontaneously, but I could .

I guess I could do that here, a version of it at least. And Bryn maybe wouldn’t like me hanging out with Ember, but I can’t avoid her if I want to talk her out of this ridiculous idea of hers, can I?

Yes, tonight seems like a good night to have a good chat with her. And just one nightcap.

Three brandies later (who knew I liked brandy?

!) and I’m still in the bar car, only Ember and I haven’t got around to discussing anything to do with Bryn.

When I arrived, Ember introduced me to a lady called Gwen who she’s been sitting next to since Toronto, and who likes to talk A LOT about her backpacking adventures. It’s all interesting, though.

Then this woman called Alex came along who I recognised, and Ember knew her too.

In fact, the two of them practically lit up when they saw each other, kissing each other on the cheek, and Ember, who’d been tightrope-walking between stony-faced and small smiles since the plane, was now leaning forward, grinning, laughing.

This wasn’t forced though; she was being herself. I remember this version of her really well. Cool, casual, fun but in a chilled way. Interesting.

Right now, Ember and Alex are bonding over a shared love of camping, something Gwen would relate to if she stayed awake, and something I cannot.

Ember throws her head back in a loud chuckle at something Alex just said. ‘One of my biggest dreams would be to find myself deserted on a tropical island and never have to deal with people again.’

‘Me too.’ Alex touches Ember’s arm. ‘Maybe some people.’

‘Okay, some. And I’d like to still be brought a cup of tea in the morning.’

‘Ugh, tea,’ replies Alex, making a barf face.

‘I’m telling you, a cup of tea drunk in the doorway of a tent is perfection.’

I swirl my brandy in my mouth and look towards the doorway of the bar. I am ridiculous . Luke is not about to get up from his bed and appear. And that’s fine. Totally fine.

‘So, who’s going to tell me about Bryn?’

My attention is snapped back by Alex asking a question to the three of us, except Gwen has nodded off to sleep still holding her brandy, and Alex is really only looking at Ember.

‘What do you want to know?’ Ember asks.

‘What’s so special that after all these years you’d fly across the globe to see her?’

I was hoping she’d be having second thoughts by now, but then we have only been on the train less than forty-eight hours.

‘How long were you together?’ Alex presses.

‘A year or so.’

‘Why did you break up?’

‘We wanted different things.’

‘But you don’t think that’s still the case?’

Ember’s words dry up and she takes a sip of her drink.

I chime in with a stage whisper. ‘I think maybe it is still the case. What? I’m just saying. What? It’s all a very complicated situation,’ I end, diplomatically, before extracting my nose from their conversion.

But Ember isn’t finished with me yet, and asks sweetly, ‘How does your boyfriend, Luke, feel about you being here over Christmas with this Luke?’

‘Is Luke one of the guys you’re travelling with?’ Alex checks.

I swear I can see mischief in Ember’s eye, a hint of amusement in her smile. Does she know he’s imaginary?

‘He doesn’t mind at all,’ I say. There is no lie.

‘Does he know?’ Ember presses.

‘No.’ Again, there is no lie.

Alex and Ember chuckle, which makes me laugh into my brandy glass, flicking the liquor up into my nostrils. Then I feel bad because I shouldn’t be making fun of Fake Luke. But then, he is fake. Maybe he’s also an asshole.

Gwen snorts herself awake at that point and is completely disoriented.

By the time I’ve helped guide her back to reality, Ember and Alex are picking up their things, saying they’re going to turn in for the night.

Gwen follows them, and I gulp the last of my brandy and head in the opposite direction back to my compartment.

I should have asked Ember if she wanted to bunk in with me.

Last night I was resentful of Luke having his own space for the night.

But now I have that myself, I’m a little lonely, lying here, the covers pulled up, the train rocking underneath me, the sound of footsteps, quiet chatter and curtains closing outside my room.

It’s a little like being back home.