‘As I’ll ever be.’
‘Don’t worry – I’ve got you.’
The famous line from the Superman film came to mind, where Lois Lane is swept into Superman’s arms and asks that if he has her, who has him. But looking at Zach now, Esme realised that nobody needed to have him because he was the sort of man who just coped with anything that life threw at him and never even broke a sweat. Her throat was tight and the cold air burned her lungs, but she swallowed it in and climbed onto the back of the snowmobile. A moment later it roared into life.
‘I feel like James Bond,’ he called behind. ‘And don’t reply to that – let me keep my little fantasy that I look like James Bond too!’
Esme wouldn’t have replied. He didn’t look like James Bond – his features were far too gentle and thoughtful to be that steely. Not that he didn’t have the bone structure or the well-sculpted torso or the thick wavy hair, but the whole package was more approachable, more down to earth. Like a James Bond that normal women could actually date without feeling woefully inadequate. Perhaps it was a strange way to think of him, and she had to smile at her odd notion. She almost told Zach about it, but then the sound of the other snowmobiles coming to life one by one filled the air and Zach wouldn’t have heard it even if she’d been silly enough to let it slip.
Niko was at the front of the pack. He raised his arm above his head and pointed to a barely visible track, which Esme had to assume was what passed for a road in these parts, and everyone began to follow as he picked up speed. The engine vibrated through Esme’s chest and she wrapped her arms around Zach’s waist. His coat was thick and padded and there was no warmth for her as she pressed her cheek to his back, but there was heat from his legs as hers slotted behind them and she was cosy enough in her own snowsuit to be content as the frosted landscape began to flash by. Their shadows were long and grainy on the snow and already the blue moment – as the locals called it – was fast approaching where the skies were lilac and rose and forget-me-not and just about the most beautiful thing Esme had ever seen.
‘OK back there?’ Zach called.
Esme nodded, forgetting her voice.
‘Esme?’
‘Oh… I’m fine.’
‘Isn’t this just amazing?’
‘Yes… amazing.’
‘Doesn’t it feel like the adventure of a lifetime already?’
‘Yes.’
Zach paused. Then: ‘You know…’
His voice faded. Esme waited.
‘Zach?’
She felt the wobble as he shook his head.
‘Nothing,’ he said, and for the first time since they’d met there was something in his voice – a note of defeat or perhaps pain. There was a fleeting spark of recognition, and Esme knew instantly that whatever he’d wanted to say, he’d boxed it up again. She didn’t push the conversation; she simply laid her head against his back and watched the landscape flash by once more.
* * *
The box that Zach had metaphorically shut was still secure. After ten minutes of silence, broken only by the thrum of their engines sounding like a thousand really angry bees, the occasional shouted instruction from Niko, which could have been instruction or could have been simple expressions of joy – it was hard to tell – and the snow spraying from beneath them, Zach spoke again. One word.
‘Elk.’
Esme whipped round and then she saw it, black against the bank of snow, watching the party whiz by with lazy interest. They passed within seconds, but she was left with the impression of a shaggy creature of enormous size and strength, something that had taken her completely by surprise. She’d imagined an elk in the wild to be more like a deer but this was something far more alarming, frightening even.
A short time later, as the clouds began to crowd the pastel skies, Niko gave the signal to stop.
‘We will eat now,’ he said as the engines stopped one by one.
Zach turned to Esme with that easy smile. ‘A bit early for dinner – somebody must have the munchies.’
It was good to see him amenable and charming again, but at the same time it troubled Esme because some unnameable instinct told her now that all his agreeability came at a cost. But it was probably none of her business, even if it was anything at all. Maybe it was just an overactive imagination on her part and she dismissed the idea. After all, he seemed OK now.
Niko set to work in a sheltered clearing, shovelling the snow aside to reveal earth blackened with the marks of many fires before the one he was building now. He gave instructions to various members of the party for assistance while he showed some of the children what he planned to do, explaining to them in gentle tones the origin of every ingredient of the meal they were going to eat and the Finnish ethos of taking care of every resource so there would always be food to eat in the future. Niko was good with kids – less cocky and more approachable – and every one of them was now entranced by his husky voice with its accent sharp enough to cut leather and his dancing blue eyes. There were questions and he answered each one without judgement, no matter how silly they might seem or how similar to the one before. Esme forgot she was cold as she watched them.
‘He’s a cool customer, eh?’
Esme turned to see Zach watching too.
‘Oh God, yes.’
‘And good-looking too.’
‘That’s an indisputable fact.’
‘I shouldn’t say it but it makes me feel quite inadequate. I should become a monk or something rather than trying to compete.’
Esme studied him. ‘Why would you need to compete?’
‘I don’t. I was just saying…’
Zach seemed flustered. The second surprising discovery of the day: Zach got flustered.
‘I just meant… he’s a pretty tough yardstick for the rest of us men.’
‘You have different qualities,’ Esme said. ‘Just as valuable.’
‘Well, thank you, I think.’
‘At least Hortense doesn’t seem too concerned about Niko. And Brian’s certainly not feeling inadequate.’ Esme angled her head to where Brian and Hortense were engaged in some sort of Eskimo kissing, their noses smudged together and their arms wrapped around each other’s padded torsos. ‘It looks like the foursome has now become a couple of twosomes.’
‘It does,’ Zach said, and left Esme wondering how he felt about that. She turned to the landscape, pristine and white for miles apart from the dark shadows of trees and the odd distant dwelling. She’d once thought the beloved peaks of her home could be uninviting and bleak, but even amongst all this beauty, how inhospitable, how hard must life be here? Was there ever a day when the inhabitants of Rovaniemi didn’t risk death from hypothermia just by walking out through their front door?
When she looked again, Niko and his helpers had the fire going. It seemed strange to see a fire in the middle of so much snow but there it was. The kids of the party were full of excited chatter as they helped Niko unpack the food they were going to cook. Esme almost wished she could join in, but this was a task for them to enjoy and she wouldn’t dream of taking these memories from any of them. He then pulled pots and pans from the luggage box on his snowmobile and gathered them round to issue a few safety instructions before they began to prepare lunch.
She’d been determined not to eat too much either, an inevitable hangover from the diet she’d been on for Warren, but when the sausages began to cook, the rich smell of them on the frosty air was so incredible that, reindeer or not, Esme had to try them. So she sat on a log cleared by Zach and he sat next to her and the whole group fell silent as they devoured a hot lunch that felt all the more welcome in the searing cold of their surroundings.
Reindeer sausage was unexpectedly good too, though Esme tried not to think about Santa’s helpers as they ate. Perhaps if she ate enough of them this week she’d stop thinking about Rudolph at all. As Hortense had reminded her when she’d said so, it was only what the Arctic people had instead of cows and it was silly to be so sentimen
tal about it – although Hortense had a way of saying so that made Esme feel sillier still. It was sort of like someone had taken beef and given it flavour steroids – very intense and dark and almost earthy. Esme looked around – some of the children were staring mournfully at their plates and picking at the berry accompaniment to the meal and Esme guessed they were finding it a little harder to separate their dinner from Donner, Dasher, Blitzen and co.
Then Niko served up hot, strong coffee to wash it down, and as soon as everyone was warmed through they washed up and packed up and got ready to start on the trail back to the snowmobile station. By now dusk had fallen and the pockets of sky in the gathering clouds were deep indigo, dusted with stars.
‘Do you think we’ll see the Northern Lights?’ someone asked Niko.
‘The solar activity is low,’ Niko said. ‘Perhaps, but I would not place a bet on it for today.’
Zach stared up as he fastened his crash helmet. He looked disappointed by what they’d just heard, perhaps more than he ought to be. After all, they had a week to see the Lights so perhaps it wasn’t time to be too disappointed just yet.
‘But we have the Lights chase tomorrow night,’ Esme reminded him. ‘We’re bound to see them eventually.’
He sniffed, unimpressed, or perhaps more disappointed than he could articulate.
‘And don’t forget the weather changes quickly here,’ she added. ‘The sky might not be clear now but it might change later.’
Esme and Zach both turned to see Brian behind them, looking up at the clouds too. Zach’s disappointment lifted and he grinned.
‘Good of you to join us, Brian.’
Brian’s grin in return was rather more sheepish. ‘Hortense and I…’
‘You hooked up,’ Zach said. ‘It’s great – don’t worry about it.’
‘You don’t feel abandoned by us?’
Zach looked at Esme. ‘We’re all grownups – I’m sure we’ll survive it somehow.’
Brian looked over to where Hortense was already astride her snowmobile like the Amazonian queen that the legends forgot to mention. ‘She’s one on her own that woman.’
‘She is that,’ Zach agreed.
‘At the airport I had my doubts that we wouldn’t throttle one another before the week is out – she’s a bit too much like the ex, if truth be told.’ He gave a small smile. ‘It’s funny how your feelings can change, isn’t it? I never thought I had a “type” but it looks like I might have after all.’
‘It is. I hope you two have a great time together now that you’ve decided no throttling is necessary. Just remember to say hello every now and again, eh?’
‘Of course!’ Brian said. ‘We wouldn’t leave you two!’
‘Good.’ Zach nodded towards Niko, who’d raised his arms for attention. ‘Looks like he’s ready to move.’
‘Oh, right… I should…’ Brian began to wade through the snow back to his own vehicle, the overgrown hair poking from beneath his woolly hat almost as white as the landscape.
‘See you later, Brian.’
‘Yes!’ Brian lifted his hand in farewell as he struggled forward. ‘See you at the hotel!’
Esme and Zach watched him go, silent for a few short moments before Zach spoke quietly.
‘Just goes to show there’s hope for all of us, doesn’t it?’
Esme turned to him. She wanted to ask what that meant but she didn’t know how so she climbed on the back of the snowmobile and left it at that.
Thirteen
‘Mum, I’m so sorry.’
Esme sat on her bed, wrapped in a fluffy hotel robe while the feeling slowly returned to her tingling toes and fingers. She’d arrived back from the safari exhausted and exhilarated. Zach had been so patient and encouraging, she’d even been persuaded to take the controls of the snowmobile for the last fifteen or so minutes of the journey back, and it had been the most exciting thing she’d ever done – she’d felt almost invincible. They’d parted at the hotel lobby with grins on both sides. But the feeling hadn’t lasted long – two minutes on the phone to her mum had brought her hurtling back to earth.
‘I don’t want you to apologise,’ Esme’s mum said firmly. ‘We can handle Warren – don’t you worry about that.’
‘But you shouldn’t have to… this is my fault.’
‘Nonsense. It’s that silly man’s fault for making a pest of himself.’
‘My phone was dead…’ she continued. ‘The battery… Zach says phone batteries don’t like extreme cold; they shut down.’
‘It doesn’t matter, darling,’ her mum insisted.
‘I didn’t realise he’d keep calling you, but I should have done.’
‘Well, I’m glad he couldn’t call you.’ Her mum’s tone was stoic, defiant. ‘I’m glad the cold got your battery. I don’t want you dealing with it – I just needed to tell you what happened.’
Esme pulled the robe tighter and wrapped her arms around herself. ‘I should call him.’
‘No! That man has ruined enough things for you! Esme…’ Her mother’s voice softened. ‘I realise I can’t tell you how to live your life now, but I can tell you what I think about it. Sometimes you might want to listen to what I have to say.’
‘I know, and I already know how you feel about Warren. It’s not as simple as me listening to you – he needs me, that’s why he’s stressing out with me gone. I never should have left him.’
‘He’s not a puppy being left while you go out to work. He’s a grown man. I’m sure he can manage a few days without you.’
‘But he’s very… well, he gets dependent on people.’
‘I’d say it’s more that he likes to control people. I think it’s you who’s grown dependent.’
‘But you don’t understand our relationship, Mum—’
‘No, I’m afraid I don’t. All I see is a man who pulled the wool over your eyes, pretending he was free to marry when he wasn’t. Not only that, he tells you what to do and who to see. Look at what happened to us—’
‘That bit wasn’t entirely his fault.’
Her mum let out a long sigh. ‘Perhaps not, but your father and I were forced into the action we took.’
‘Look, I don’t want to keep laying blame and I don’t want to rake up bad feelings from that time again. I’m glad we’re OK now, Mum, and I don’t want things to go back to that.’
‘I feel the same; I just can’t stand by and let you get hoodwinked by that man again.’
‘I won’t be, I just—’
‘Don’t you dare think about going home early! Give in to him now and you’ll be giving in forever. He can spend time with his wife if he’s feeling lonely…’
‘You don’t know him like I do. He’ll keep calling you.’
‘And we’ll keep telling him the same thing.’
Esme paused as something occurred to her. ‘Has he asked exactly where I am?’
‘Yes.’
‘But you didn’t tell him?’
‘He already knows you’re in Lapland and he knows the resort. I’m assuming you told him that much.’
Esme gave a silent nod. She had, hadn’t she? She’d asked Warren to come and she’d even shown him the hotel online in a bid to persuade him. She stared at the opposite wall. He wouldn’t come here, would he? Surely that would be an extreme course of action, even for Warren?
‘Esme?’
‘Sorry, Mum. I was just thinking about something I need to do.’
‘You’re going to call him?’
‘I think I have to. Just to settle things. I think it will get much worse if I don’t.’
‘You don’t need to phone him on our account – I told you, your dad and I can handle it.’
‘It’s not just that.’ Esme squeezed her eyes shut. ‘I just need to talk to him. And it’s not to give in or anything. It’s just to clear things up. Do you see what I mean?’
‘I can’t say I do. Just don’t let him talk you into anything you don’t want to do.’
‘I won’t.’
‘You say that but I’m afraid you will.’
‘Mum, I can’t have him hassling you and Dad and that’s that.’ There was also the notion that he might even go as far as tracking her down in Rovaniemi, and that would be a whole new mess, but Esme didn’t mention that for fear of giving her parents something new to worry about. If they thought that, they might just get on a plane and come to her themselves, to be on hand in case he did. The idea of Warren flying out was perhaps a bit extreme, but crazy as it was she couldn’t rule it out –sometimes Warren had been known to do extreme things.
‘It doesn’t bother us,’ her mum insisted.
‘I know, but it bothers me.’
Her mother gave a loud sniff. Esme could picture the look of disapproval on her face.
‘Who’s Zach?’ she asked.
‘What?’
‘You mentioned someone named Zach.’
‘Oh, he’s one of the solo travellers. We went out today – I mean lots of us did. Together. Not just me and him.’
‘You had a good day?’
‘The best. We went on a snowmobile safari. Honestly, it was just the most incredible thing.’
‘So this Zach…’
‘No, Mum…’
‘I’m just asking. I can ask, can’t I? I’m your mum, after all.’
‘Yes, but no. Whatever you’re thinking. And I have a feeling I know what that is.’
‘Alright then.’
Esme heard a rare chuckle. Her mother was always so serious that the sound took Esme quite by surprise, especially as she didn’t see what there was to laugh about. It wasn’t often that Esme sought advice from her mum, particularly as they’d fallen out so spectacularly over the past few years, but she was gripped by a sudden urge to ask for help. She’d had her grandma before, always saying just the right thing to settle Esme’s mind, but she was gone now and Esme missed her counsel. In some ways, perhaps Matilda’s death had contributed to the fact that Esme and her mother were getting along now, and as Esme was finding herself more and more confused about her feelings, she was taken by a hope that perhaps her mum would know the right thing to say.
The Christmas Wish: A heartwarming Christmas romance Page 12