Page 32 of The Christmas Express

Ember

Having Alex with me is nice. I feel less like the outsider of the group. And she’s not Bryn’s, she’s mine. In a friend way, of course.

I don’t know how Cali managed it, but not only are we all trudging through the snow from the station into the small town of Jasper together, but we’re all in pretty good spirits. Even Joss, who surprised all of us by laughing after Joe chucked a snowball right at her face.

Jasper National Park is bitterly cold, the sun not having quite risen over the mountains yet and the air thick with an icy mist, beyond which is some of the most spectacular scenery I’ve ever seen.

This is my kind of place. Big, open spaces, nature showing off her fine assets. I take a long, slow, inhale in and hold that mountain air inside me for a few beats, before breathing it out and it mists in front of me.

‘Nice, huh?’ Alex says beside me.

‘It’s stunning,’ I reply.

‘Thanks,’ she jokes.

I laugh with her, glancing over. She’s wearing her hair in a side plait, with a maroon woollen hat on her head.

Tying off the end of her braid is a hairband wrapped in red tinsel, gifted from Cali, who seems to have made one for everyone (although I spotted Luke breaking his tinsel pocket-square in half and tying part of it on her wrist earlier, like they were one short).

We’re like a cute little gang of tourists who are all wearing something so if we get lost people know which group we’re with.

Actually, maybe that’s exactly what we are.

I’d happily get lost here, though. ‘I wish I had more time here. Now I’m off the train I just want to head out, camp by a lake, hike to a waterfall...’ I trail off.

‘Camp in the snow?’ she asks, amused, as we pass a gigantic snow drift outside a shop, nearly as tall as me.

‘Well, maybe a nice little cabin, with heating.’

‘The waterfalls will all be frozen, also.’

‘No way! That sounds even cooler, actually,’ I marvel, and she grins, seeming pleased by my enthusiasm. She points out a group of teenagers filming themselves throwing warm water up into the air and it turning into snow before their eyes. This place is magical.

Alex stops our group as we pass the Swiss cabin-like frontage of a hotel. ‘You know what? I have an idea of how we could spend our time here in Jasper this morning, if you want?’

‘You’re the local.’ Cali shrugs, good-naturedly. ‘In Canada terms.’

‘As long as we can stretch our legs, it’s good with me,’ says Sara, and I couldn’t agree more.

Alex’s smile widens, and she nods, looking between the group. ‘Alright. One moment.’

She disappears into the hotel, the red tinsel in her hair catching the lights of the entranceway.

While we wait, there’s a quiet contentment among us.

We look into the nearby shop windows that will stay closed today due to the holidays, we photograph pretty snow piled in smooth clumps upon rooftops, we point out sparkling Christmas lights on the facades of the wood-fronted buildings.

Nobody is arguing, nobody is talking about arguing, everything is Christmas Day-fine. Flipping cold, but fine.

Alex emerges and I warm up from within. She’s swinging a set of car keys from her gloved fingers, and beckons us over to one of the parked-up hotel shuttle buses.

‘Another vehicle?’ Joss moans, because if someone’s going to she might as well be the one to take one for the team.

‘Trust me. It’s no more than a twenty-five-minute journey each way, and we’ll have over an hour to do one of the best hikes you’ll ever do.’

Cali’s nose crumples, giving her away, but she adds a peppy upwards infliction when she echoes, ‘A hike!’ to mask her true feelings.

I, for one, love this idea. I love it! As we follow Alex to the van, I catch her arm and ask, ‘Are you driving us? How did you get this van?’

‘I have a friend who works here.’ She looks at me sideways, a grin on her face, eye contact that feels very just for me. ‘She’s letting us borrow it for the morning. The hotel don’t offer excursions on Christmas Day.’

We climb into the van, me sitting up front with Alex, and I try to focus on the scenery but she keeps pulling my attention as she changes gears, flicks her fingers over the indicators.

The dawn light changes to pastel tones of baby pinks and blues, the last of the stars fading for now as the drive takes us out of town and along the valley between the mountains, following the Icefields Parkway road as it winds alongside the spearmint-toned Athabasca River, which we catch glimpses of between the pine trees.

In no time at all, we turn off and Alex parks up, and we all scramble our heavily bundled-up bodies out of the van and into the even chillier mountain air, our boots crunching on the untouched snow under our feet.

‘Athabasca Falls,’ I read from a brown sign at the start of a trailhead. ‘We’re going to see waterfalls?’

‘We’re going to see frozen waterfalls,’ she replies, and I shriek in delight. I can’t tell you why this makes me so giddy, but it just does. I guess it’s something about water, nature, clean air, new things to see, a cute girl...

The others seem pumped too, though it could be that they’re just desperate to get some blood flowing and warm up, so we get going almost immediately. I snap photos along the way to shower my friends back home with in our WhatsApp group, and chit-chat with Alex along the way.

Then Sara says, ‘God, if Bryn’s wedding venue is as pretty as this it’s going to be perfection.’ Her head snaps around to me and she adds, ‘Sorry. I mean, I just didn’t mean to rub your face in it.’

‘No, it’s fine, you can talk about her wedding, of course.’

We keep walking, our footsteps creaking on the snow, and Alex pulls my sleeve so we’re a few steps back from the others. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, of course,’ I tell her. ‘They’re here for Bryn’s wedding, I don’t expect them to pretend it’s not happening. Especially for my sake.’ I frown and kick at the fine snow, which powders over my boot and into my sock. Damn. ‘Do you...’

‘Do I what?’ Alex asks.

‘Should I call her? Bryn? Just to say Merry Christmas or something.’

‘Would you tell her where you are?’

‘No. Just... I’m wondering if I should try and get a better sense of her frame of mind. Before I get there. Don’t tell the others.’

Alex raises her brows at me. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t be talking to you about this stuff.’

‘Why?’

When I woke up this morning, hunkered down in my seat after the best sleep I’ve had since being on board the train, something happened.

I didn’t think of Bryn. At least, she wasn’t my first thought, unlike every other morning since my birthday.

I thought of Alex, I wondered how she slept, remembered star-gazing with her the night before.

Only then did I think of Bryn, and travelling all this way to see her, and a small voice that I quickly hushed asked, but even if she does say she wants to get back together, what do you want ?

The trail takes us alongside the river, which ripples and rushes in the chasms between icy slabs, before following a pathway up to the top of the falls.

‘Here we are,’ says Alex at the top of the trail, to the whole group, before turning to me with hopeful, expectant eyes. ‘Merry Christmas.’

I step forward to the lookout and peer over, and the view takes my breath right out of my lungs.

We’re standing above a waterfall, on a platform. The river water below is the softest mint and turquoise, and rushes down between a vast network of frozen claws.

‘It looks like a foam party,’ mumbles Joss, in awe.

I see what she means. The never-ending water has created icicles on icicles on icicles, all surrounding the liquid falls which rush into a teal pool at the bottom.

‘It’s incredible,’ I exhale, and lean in against Alex, resting my cheek on her shoulder.

We all watch, mesmerised, for a while, enjoying the quiet, the only sounds being the roar of the water, the shuffling of snow under seven pairs of feet, and a chorus line of breath being blown into gloved palms.

‘What’s everyone’s favourite Christmas memory?’ Cali pipes up. ‘Maybe not favourite. That’s too hard. But one that makes you smile.’

This one , I think, feeling the warmth of Alex through her coat.

‘A Christmas memory that makes me smile,’ Joe starts immediately, leaning over the fence and staring down at the water. ‘Was when Cali wanted to cook us all Christmas dinner but she burnt the turkey because she thought it had to cook overnight, not defrost overnight.’

There’s a collective good-humoured groan.

‘Alright, alright, it was perfectly edible,’ Cali protests.

‘You’re the only one who ate it,’ replies Joe.

‘That’s not true – Luke ate some.’

‘Well, obviously,’ I say without thinking, and see them both blush.

Oops. ‘Erm, a memory that makes me smile was a Christmas I spent at the beach with my parents when I was about six or seven. I’d seen a thing on TV about Australians having barbeques on the beach on Christmas Day, and begged my folks to let us do it, just once.

It was freezing and drizzling but Dad stood there tending a crappy little barbeque while Mum held a brolly over the whole thing, and I kept dropping the prawns through the grates.

I think we went home and had bowls of cereal, but it was still fun. ’ God, it was fun.

‘Alex?’ Cali prompts.

Beside me, she thinks. ‘My first Christmas on the train. I’m super independent, but that was my first Christmas away from my family, and actually they surprised me by boarding on Christmas Eve.

I was so proud to show off where I worked and so touched they’d made that effort.

They live in a beautiful home that’s so picture perfect at Christmastime, but they gave it up for me. ’

‘You’re close with your family, huh?’ I ask. I like that about her.

Alex gazes down at the falls. I guess she’s missing them today. ‘I am,’ she agrees. ‘You have to put family first, right?’