The Christmas Wish: A heartwarming Christmas romance

by Tilly Tennant

  Brian jammed his woolly hat back on and scanned the crowd waiting to do the Northern Lights trip with them. ‘If he doesn’t get a move on he’s going to miss it whether he wants to or not. Does anyone have his phone number?’

  ‘Don’t look at me,’ Hortense scoffed. ‘I wouldn’t have one of the blasted things if you paid me. I’m available as and when I decide, and I rather like it that way.’

  ‘I don’t have it either. I suppose one of us ought to swap numbers with him at some point so we can avoid this happening again.’ Esme glanced at the tour guide, who had started checking people onto the bus. ‘Do you think we can get them to wait for him?’ she asked, her gaze still trained on the young man.

  ‘I don’t think they’d hold things up for too long,’ Brian said doubtfully. ‘Schedule to keep to and all that. It might take a while to find the right bit of sky too so they’ll want to get away on time.’

  Esme turned back to them. ‘I’ll go and see if he’s in his room. It won’t take me a minute.’

  She didn’t get far. Zach emerged before she’d crossed half of the car park and Niko was with him. It looked as if they’d spent the hours he’d been back from Santa’s village together. She was beset by a sudden pang of jealousy.

  ‘I’ll miss your company tonight,’ Esme heard Niko say as he clapped him on the back. ‘But I understand – the Lights are calling and you do not want to miss them.’

  Zach fixed him a look full of gratitude. ‘I appreciate it.’

  ‘Any time, man. You come and look for me.’

  Esme began to back away. She didn’t know what this conversation was but she had a feeling it wasn’t for her ears. Had Niko waited for Zach in his room all the time she and Zach had been out? Or had he been hanging around at the hotel anyway? Maybe it was simply a coincidence that they’d run into each other again. But it didn’t seem that way. What was the deal with those two? She tried to work out the body language but somehow the signals were all mixed up.

  Niko gave a brisk nod. ‘Take care, man.’

  ‘I will. And thanks again.’

  Niko turned to leave, but then he caught sight of Esme and gave her one of his megawatt smiles. Sort of like one of Zach’s smiles, except that where Zach’s was like the sun, Niko’s was more of an electric light bulb – less natural and seeming as though it had required a lot more effort to produce. This was the version of Niko reserved for the tourists – flirting and pretending to be everyone’s best friend. What Esme had just seen with Zach – she had no doubt that was the real Niko.

  ‘Hey – going to the Lights chase?’ he asked.

  Esme nodded. ‘That’s if the clouds move – they look pretty thick tonight.’

  ‘Your driver knows the best places. If there are Lights tonight he’ll find them.’

  He threw her a wink and then sauntered off, hands buried in the pockets of his thick downy jacket. Esme turned to see Zach watch him go before giving her his full attention.

  ‘I didn’t know if you were coming,’ she said.

  ‘That makes two of us.’ For a moment it looked as if melancholic Zach had returned. But then he smiled and that Zach was banished again. ‘But I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s really the reason we’re all here in Lapland, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s what I just said,’ Brian cut in cheerily.

  Esme wasn’t sure that was true for any of them – not really. There were many personal reasons for each traveller – she was beginning to see that now – and she felt a lot of them had very little to do with the Northern Lights when you really got down to it. Certainly her own reasons were more complicated than that. ‘I thought Niko had tempted you away again, that’s all.’

  ‘God no, he’s too wild for me. Finished me off last night – I still feel like my blood is fifty per cent alcohol.’

  Brian’s voice came from behind them. ‘Come on, mate, you’ll cause a riot if you hold the bus up any longer. We’ve got an aurora borealis to chase!’

  Zach threw him a grin. ‘OK, OK, I’m getting on the bus now!’

  * * *

  Their guide followed weather reports from all over the neighbouring territories, and while the driver followed the satellite navigation system across the snowy terrain, the guide recalibrated from time to time to give them the best chance of a gap in the clouds. They drove for miles searching, but despite the weather remaining largely dry and the best efforts of the tour team, everyone was left disappointed. The fickle Northern Lights weren’t showing their colours to anyone tonight. They’d been told it was something to do with solar activity (or a lack of it) and so even though the weather hadn’t been a total loss, the solar activity that made the Lights dance had. It was often like this, their guide said, and anything worth having was worth a patient wait.

  So, sometime in the early hours of the morning they conceded defeat. There was a collective groan from the passengers, a disappointment so huge and palpable it almost buckled the walls of the bus, only tempered by the fact that everyone was tired now and ready for a warm bed, and their guide had promised that they’d try again the following night. The weather forecast wasn’t perfect but he was hopeful that luck would be on their side.

  Esme’s head rested on Zach’s shoulder as the bus bumped and jolted them back to the hotel, and in a half-slumber she almost fancied she could disappear into his arms and curl herself around him like a cat to sleep. She liked the idea that he’d keep her safe and warm for as long as she slept. When she dreamed those vague half-dreams of someone only dozing, she dreamed his face, the face of a friend she could rely on, someone she hoped she could keep in her life forever. She dreamed of days in the future where they’d be sharing a meal or a lazy coffee or a walk in the hills, of days where he’d meet her at some train station and smile his wonderful smile and her heart would leap at the sight of it. They’d share jokes and laugh, and sometimes they’d share woes and comfort each other, and he might even share the thing that made him sad, and she’d be able to help him so she would never have to see that sadness again.

  She snapped awake at the sound of her phone and the dream popped like a soap bubble.

  ‘Are you going to answer that?’ Zach asked.

  Esme nodded as she fumbled in her pocket. She looked at the screen and turned it off with a groan.

  ‘The boyfriend?’

  She nodded again.

  ‘Heck of a time to be calling. He really does want to talk to you. You ought to put him out of his misery.’

  ‘He probably just got back from the pub,’ was all she could offer as an explanation.

  Zach’s glance went to the large digital clock at the front of the bus. ‘At this hour?’

  ‘Lock-in. His local. They do it from time to time.’

  ‘Still, he could have safely assumed you’d be in bed asleep, even if he wasn’t.’

  Esme thought back to all the times Warren had returned from a late night/early morning at his local and woke her for a cheese toastie or to clean up his sick or simply because the beer had made him horny. Sometimes she wouldn’t see him till late morning or even early afternoon, but she’d been up anyway, worrying to death about where he might be, trying his phone over and over. He’d get home and tell her he couldn’t remember where he’d been because he’d been so drunk, or that he’d crashed at a friend’s house, or he’d had to walk home because he’d run out of money for a cab. After she’d discovered Shelly’s existence, that fateful night when Shelly’s friend had seen her and Warren out on the town together and had set the events in motion that would see Esme running back to the hills of Derbyshire, she’d wondered if he’d really chosen to go back to Shelly’s place all those times instead. Perhaps she’d done the cheese toastie or cleaned up his sick or cured his horniness. She had to suppose that had been the case, although she had to admit that his new promises to her when she’d returned had meant that his visits to Shelly would have become a thing of the past. Wouldn’t it? Not for the first time she thought about the phone
number she had for Shelly and she wondered how weird it would be to call her and ask her what had really been going on. Had Warren ever been straight with her about any of it? What was he telling Shelly about his relationship with Esme? Was he being straight with either of them, even now?

  ‘He probably forgot what time it was,’ she said.

  ‘Inconsiderate is what I’d call it.’

  ‘I suppose he’s a bit worse for wear and hasn’t realised what he’s doing.’

  ‘Even drunk he must have some sense of consideration for others,’ he said. ‘Unless there was never any in the first place.’

  ‘He’s…’ Esme paused. ‘I don’t know.’

  Zach was silent for a moment. But then he spoke again and all trace of humour was gone. ‘Tell me again what’s so great about this guy?’

  Esme turned away from him and laid her head against the seat.

  ‘It’s none of my business,’ Zach said quickly. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Esme stared down the aisle of the bus, where the lights of the instruments on the dashboard pricked the gloom, and she didn’t say anything. What could she say when she didn’t know the answer to that question herself?

  Sixteen

  On balance, neither of their outings together had ended the way they’d begun. Esme had parted from Zach after the trip to Santa’s village in a weird mood, and returning from the Northern Lights chase had seen her fall into bed in an even weirder one. On the face of it they got along so well – at least they ought to – but something was always in the way. Perhaps it was the things that neither of them would say, rather than the things they did say. Although Esme had opened up a little, she was frustrated that Zach wouldn’t give an inch, and perhaps he felt that even the inch she hoped for was just too much.

  In bed in her room, as she drifted to sleep, she wondered if Niko might have some answers – he and Zach had seemed pally as they’d parted the night before at the bus. Although, if they had slept together then she guessed that pally was the least they ought to be. Somehow, though, she was beginning to doubt that the true nature of their relationship was quite as cut and dry as Hortense would have Esme believe. It just didn’t stack up.

  But the train of thought had ended there with Esme falling asleep. She slept so soundly that she couldn’t even recall a single second of anything she might have dreamed and she woke at eight the following morning for breakfast, wishing that the hotel would serve it a lot later. But having skipped dinner meant she’d barely eaten anything the evening before and even she couldn’t manage to wait for lunch, so she hauled herself out of bed and into the shower.

  As the impressive force of her luxury showerhead massaged life and reason back into her, Esme’s thoughts drifted back to the things they’d said the previous night. Or rather, things Zach had said. As usual, it had all been concentrated on what he thought she needed to hear and there was very little about what made him tick. Nevertheless, there had been so much to ponder, and all of it leading back to the fact that, sooner or later, she needed to face Warren with an awful truth that she hadn’t yet been able to face herself. Did she really want a future with him? It was a truth that had been niggling, creeping up on her. In fact, it wasn’t even that subtle – she’d known it but she wasn’t ready to admit yet that her life might be better without him.

  She wondered if they’d see Zach today, and if he’d want to spend time with her again. Had she put him off? He might decide she just wasn’t worth the hard work and she wouldn’t have blamed him. She hoped not, because if so, it might be a lonely few days before she went home.

  * * *

  Given that they’d been virtually inseparable for the last two days, it was a shock to see Brian and Hortense sitting at different tables and at opposite ends of the room when Esme turned up for breakfast. Hortense was throwing black looks at a mournful-looking Brian, who stared into his coffee and tried not to quail under the ferocity of them. There was no sign of Zach, and Esme didn’t know who she ought to go and sit with.

  ‘Esme!’ Hortense hissed, and the decision was made. Esme liked Brian but she wouldn’t dare cross Hortense, not for anything.

  ‘Why aren’t you…?’ she began as she took a seat at Hortense’s table.

  ‘That man,’ Hortense replied with all the drama of a Shakespearean actor, ‘is a… pig.’

  ‘What did he do?’

  Hortense gave an exaggerated shudder. ‘My dear girl, I couldn’t possibly talk about it.’

  ‘Oh. OK.’

  ‘His wife,’ Hortense said, clearly forgetting that she couldn’t possibly talk about it.

  ‘Ex-wife,’ Esme corrected, immediately regretting the impulse. Hortense looked as if she might explode.

  ‘So he says. In name only, it would appear.’

  ‘What? What has she done?’

  ‘She doesn’t stop phoning him! And last night we were… well, let’s just say it was a delicate situation to interrupt. And do you know what that pig did?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He answered the phone! Left me there like…’

  ‘Perhaps Brian was worried it was an emergency,’ Esme interrupted hastily.

  ‘Nothing could be that important! She’s his ex-wife, and she should be phoning somebody else for her emergencies!’

  ‘It does sound as if they’re actually still quite close.’

  ‘Doesn’t it just!’ Hortense slapped a hand on the table. ‘It sounds as if they still want to be married!’

  ‘I’m sure it’s not like that. I suppose they’ve just stayed friends. After all, I don’t think the only reason Brian sends her all those photos is to rub her face in their divorce because I don’t think he’s really like that. I think he just says it to look as if he doesn’t care, you know? I think he sends her photos because they actually still share quite a lot of their lives. As friends,’ she added hastily, seeing Hortense’s expression darken further still.

  ‘I’m not playing second fiddle to any wife! I have all his attention or not at all!’

  Esme didn’t doubt for a minute that Hortense could claim anyone’s full attention in any situation, but she had to sympathise with Brian. He seemed like the sort of man who’d find it hard to stop caring about someone he’d once shared his life with, even if they weren’t still together, and if she was in trouble he’d want to help. Assuming that was the reason his ex-wife was calling. Maybe she’d thought his Facebook page showed him having just a little bit too much fun without her and she’d decided she ought to put a stop to it. ‘So you’re making Brian sweat a little?’

  ‘Oh more than that! We’re entirely over!’

  Esme blinked. ‘Just like that?’

  ‘I threw his clothes at him right there and then. Off he went back to his own room, tail between his legs.’

  Again, too much information for Esme. That was one image she didn’t want invading her thoughts. ‘You’re not going to give him an opportunity to explain? A chance to make it up to you?’

  ‘When you get to my age you’ll realise that life is too short to waste on anyone who doesn’t completely worship you.’ Hortense rammed half a buttered croissant into her mouth and Esme glanced across at Brian, who was chewing mournfully on a corner of toast.

  ‘I think he does worship you,’ Esme said. ‘He looks pretty sorry at any rate.’

  Hortense swallowed. ‘It’s too little too late.’

  ‘You won’t even consider giving him a second chance?’

  ‘Life’s too short for—’

  ‘Second chances, I know.’

  Hortense turned her attention to a Danish pastry and folded it into her mouth, washing it down with a great glug of black coffee.

  ‘What are you doing today?’ she asked when she’d finished chewing.

  ‘I hadn’t really decided.’

  Esme had wondered whether it would be worth seeking out Zach or whether it would just get weird again. She’d also wondered whether she might finally broach the subject of his emotional state with
Hortense and Brian to see what they thought. But that had been before the new Hortense and Brian situation and she had a feeling that Hortense might be about to hijack her non-existent plans. She also had a feeling that the only thing they’d be talking about was how much of a pig Brian was. Hortense, despite her insults, clearly still liked him. In fact, it was precisely because of the insults Esme knew Hortense still liked him.

  ‘Why don’t you come to the sauna with me?’ she asked. ‘That lovely girl, Inari, at the bar recommended a place to me. I thought I might try it. Do come along!’

  Esme poured herself a glass of orange juice from the jug at the table. ‘I don’t know… I’m not really into that sort of thing.’

  ‘My dear girl, you’ll love it!’

  ‘Will it take long?’ Esme asked doubtfully.

  ‘As long as you like. We could stay there all day if you wanted to. It’s wonderful – the Finns adore them!’

  Esme thought about the boring, hot cramped cubicles at Warren’s gym packed with high-cheeked women with perfect eyebrows who didn’t speak to her. If the Finns adored saunas then they were a weird race.

  ‘It’ll do wonders for your skin,’ Hortense insisted. ‘You’ll positively glow! You could certainly use a pick-me-up.’

  Esme looked over her glass as she took a sip of juice. ‘Thanks. Has it occurred to you that I might just look like this because I’ve been up half the night driving around Lapland?’

  Hortense laughed. ‘There’s no need to be offended. There’s always room for improvement, even for a ravishing little flower like yourself.’

  ‘Thanks, again, I think.’