The Christmas Wish: A heartwarming Christmas romance

by Tilly Tennant

  Zach gave a warm laugh. ‘I couldn’t have put it better myself.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Make a wish?’

  His smile was teasing. ‘I did. But obviously I can’t tell you what it is.’

  ‘Obviously, I know the rules. Can you give me a ballpark?’

  ‘No.’ He laughed. ‘I don’t want to anger the Wish Pixies.’

  Esme snorted. ‘Wish Pixies!’

  ‘Well, whatever it is that sorts out your wish – wish pixies, fairies, elves, stars, God, Santa…’

  ‘You know, that’s a good point well made. Who does listen to your wishes? I’ve never actually thought about it before.’

  ‘I’d say that’s time sensibly spent doing other things,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t know what then, because currently I have no job, half a house and even less of a boyfriend.’

  Zach stopped smiling. ‘He’s still partly boyfriend then?’

  ‘I suppose he is. Technically.’

  ‘Can I say something that you might not want to hear?’

  ‘Depends what it is.’

  ‘It’s about your boyfriend. I think you might have a good idea of what it’s going to be…’

  ‘There!’ someone in the group squealed and pointed. A strip of sky, low on the horizon cleared and a glorious dancing display of greens and pinks erupted.

  Esme’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t help it. She forgot that she was cold, that Zach had been about to say something he knew she wouldn’t like and that she’d wanted to hear it anyway.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she whispered, letting out the breath she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding. There was a silence, more complete and profound than Esme had ever encountered before. Everyone watched as the sky shimmered and dazzled and walls of colour snaked across it and everyone was as silent and awestruck as her.

  The stillness was broken by the sound of someone clapping and the applause began to ripple through the group. Some whooped and cheered and Esme laughed, filled to the brim with an indescribable kind of euphoria, and she felt oddly like a single-celled creature staring into the face of an infinitely complex universe that was all at once beautiful but also bewildering and terrifying. Zach turned to her with a grin, and in the heat of this one incredible, life-changing moment, she kissed him.

  He didn’t pull away. Instead, he pulled her closer, cupping her face gently in his hands. Everything around them faded – there was only this: his cold hands and warm lips. And when they finally parted to take a breath, his eyes locked onto hers, he didn’t say a word.

  What had she done? It had come from nowhere and she wouldn’t have been able to stop it no matter what – how could she have stopped something she’d had no idea she was going to do? His expression was unreadable in the half-light and she wanted him to say something, to tell her what he felt about what had just happened. But there was nothing. He simply turned back to the skies. And then he moved away – an inch at most, but Esme didn’t miss the action. It wasn’t what she’d been hoping for.

  It was done and there was no going back and Esme didn’t know what to say to fix it. She didn’t want to apologise because saying sorry would imply that she’d done something wrong and, despite everything, it had felt so very right. Had it been worth it, though? Had it been worth throwing away a friendship for? Zach still said nothing and still didn’t look at her, and surely something needed to be said? What was he thinking? Did his silence mean that in one foolish, impulsive moment she’d lost him?

  She glanced behind her to see Hortense, not looking at the sky like everyone else, but looking at her, mouth open. It was obvious from her face that she’d seen the whole thing.

  Esme tried not to acknowledge the look on Hortense’s face that begged for an immediate explanation. Instead, she turned her eyes heavenward again, though the joy she’d first felt as the Lights danced and cracked had died. Her eyes were heavenward not to enjoy the celestial display, but to offer a silent prayer to whoever might be listening – wish pixies, fairies, God, Santa – that she hadn’t screwed everything up.

  Nineteen

  ‘Esme!’ Hortense grabbed her arm and hauled her away from the group. It was strange how her wobble was nonexistent in times of extreme excitement. Like right now, though Esme didn’t see what there was to get excited about. Everyone else was still gazing at the sky in wonder but Hortense, apparently, had other ideas. Esme glanced back to see Zach still staring upwards, though he must have noticed Esme had left his side. Was he trying to pretend the kiss hadn’t happened? Esme had already accepted quickly there was no point. It wasn’t that easy. You could pretend that a farcical bra-exposure incident hadn’t happened, but some things were simply too big to ignore.

  ‘You didn’t tell me!’ Hortense’s whisper wasn’t really quiet enough to qualify as a whisper at all, though it was probably about as discreet as she’d ever been.

  ‘Tell you what?’

  ‘That business with Zach! Why didn’t you tell me you were together?’

  ‘There’s no business and we’re not,’ Esme said, vainly hoping but knowing in her heart that she wouldn’t put Hortense off the scent so easily.

  ‘But I saw you!’

  ‘Hortense, please…’ Esme screwed her eyes up and sighed. ‘Please don’t make anything of this. It was a silly, impulsive mistake. The Lights… I got carried away, excited, that’s all. I feel just terrible about it and I don’t think Zach knows how to tell me I was out of line. I just hope he’s not too offended.’

  ‘Dear girl, he looked far from offended to me.’

  ‘He’s kind like that – probably didn’t want to make me feel worse than I already do.’

  Hortense shook her head. ‘Nonsense.’

  ‘Do you think everyone saw?’

  ‘Most of us were looking upwards; I shouldn’t think so. I don’t know why you’d want to worry about it anyway.’

  Esme nodded, her shoulders relaxing a little. ‘That’s something. I’d be mortified to think everyone had.’

  ‘I’m sure they’ve all seen kissing before. You were hardly doing the dance of the seven veils.’

  ‘I know.’ Esme couldn’t help a small smile. ‘But it would have been embarrassing. For Zach too. I suppose it still is. After all…’

  Esme closed her eyes again, as if by closing them for long enough she might finally open them again to find time had rewound and she could stop herself from perpetrating the kiss in the first place.

  ‘I still say he rather looked to be enjoying himself,’ Hortense said archly.

  ‘But still,’ Esme replied, not wanting to acknowledge the new and complicated emotions that notion stirred in her. She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t excuse anything. He’s my friend, and now I’ve ruined everything… I don’t know how we can get past this.’

  ‘I think you’re reading too much into it, dear girl.’ Hortense gave a sage nod. ‘There’s no great love affair.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I think he’s perfectly available. And it’s not as if kissing someone is asking to marry them, is it?’

  ‘What about Niko?’

  ‘You must stop worrying. It was just a little kiss. All this lamenting is hardly going to help. If it was in the heat of the moment, tell him so and I’m sure you’ll both be able to laugh about it come tomorrow morning.’

  But Esme knew she wouldn’t laugh. Not tomorrow or any morning. She’d been coming to a slow realisation since that impetuous kiss. It hadn’t been just the heat of the moment that had made her do it. She could no longer deny her attraction to Zach, despite their friendship and whatever he might have with Niko. She’d even go so far as to say, in another, less complicated situation, she might be falling for him. But how could that be?

  As these thoughts raced through her head, Esme became aware of the world darkening by degrees, and she realised that the clouds had moved in again, obscuring their view of the light display. Hortense seeme
d to notice it at the same time.

  ‘That’s a shame,’ she said, although she hadn’t been watching with any great interest as far as Esme could tell. Instead, she’d noticed just about everything else that was going on around her, including the things she wasn’t supposed to have seen. ‘I was rather enjoying the spectacle. And now I shan’t be able to see a thing when we walk back to the bus; probably break my ankle… again.’

  ‘I’ll help you back,’ Esme said. ‘Would you mind if I sat with you too?’

  Hortense turned with a look of surprise. ‘On the bus?’

  ‘Yes. When we drive back to the hotel. If Brian doesn’t mind, of course.’

  ‘My dear Esme, I’m sure he wouldn’t, but don’t you think that would look rather obvious?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’m assuming this change of heart has something to do with your recent moment of indiscretion?’

  ‘Well, yes, but—’

  ‘Then surely it’s better to pretend your kiss meant nothing and that you couldn’t care less if you want it to blow over. If you avoid Zachary now it will just seem to be something more than it was.’ She paused and held Esme in a shrewd gaze. ‘Or am I missing something?’

  ‘No,’ Esme said quickly. ‘You’re right – it will seem more of a thing if I avoid him. Of course, I should act like nothing happened. Like I don’t care.’

  ‘Quite. Take it from someone who is rather practised in the art of pretending not to care.’

  Esme stared at Hortense. Was this, for the first time, a glimpse into the real Hortense? Had she just let her guard down for the tiniest moment to allow Esme to see that Hortense – seemingly outspoken and stoic and endlessly unsentimental – had actually been deeply hurt in her past? It wasn’t such a leap of the imagination when she thought about it – hadn’t most people experienced some kind of emotional pain at some point in their lives? But it was just that Hortense appeared to be so bulletproof, so strong and resilient and endlessly blasé that the idea had simply never occurred to Esme before.

  Hortense clapped her hands together. ‘Righto. Now that’s all sorted, perhaps we ought to go and find our chaps.’

  The moment had been and gone, and perhaps it was a good thing that Esme hadn’t been given the opportunity to delve any further. Hortense probably wouldn’t have given her anything else anyway. Esme suddenly saw, through that tiny window into Hortense’s life, that she wore her practicality like a suit of armour. She wasn’t opening it up to anyone, not even an inch. She couldn’t help but wonder if Brian had been allowed to breach it yet, or whether he ever would be. How close did someone have to get before they saw a real, vulnerable, human Hortense?

  ‘I suppose we should,’ Esme said, not relishing the idea of facing Zach again. Perhaps he’d take her in his arms and tell her how the kiss had made him discover new feelings for her, but she doubted it. More likely he’d feel as awkward and uncertain as she was right now. Perhaps he’d already had a similar conversation with Brian as she’d had with Hortense and had asked to swap places on the bus so he could sit with him, away from Esme and away from any pretending-nothing-had-happened scenario.

  Just then, there was another burst from the skies, once again streaked with green and pink. Despite everything, Esme couldn’t help but stare up in wonder. It was an incredible phenomenon. When she thought about all the people in the world who apparently had this sight on their bucket list, what amazed her more than the fact that she was one of the lucky ones, here now to see it in all its dazzling glory, was that nobody could truly appreciate the majesty of it until they were staring up at it. You could look at all the photos and videos you wanted, long for it, imagine it, but you could never dream what it might really be like to experience this. Wrapping her arms tight around herself against the cold, once more she was overwhelmed at the sight.

  ‘What do you think, Grandma?’ she whispered to the sky. ‘Not bad, eh?’

  The lights seemed to flicker and then burn brighter still, filling the heavens with intense, rippling colour.

  ‘Yep.’ Esme smiled. ‘That’s what I thought too.’

  Twenty

  Hortense wasn’t about to drop her new favourite topic of conversation. At breakfast the following morning she accosted Esme at the hot buffet.

  ‘I wonder,’ she began, leaving Esme wishing Hortense’s voice came in a register that wasn’t loud or extremely loud, ‘if we haven’t got the situation with young Zachary entirely wrong.’

  ‘What situation?’

  ‘You know… the situation.’

  As Esme ladled porridge into a bowl she wondered how to respond to this. It was the same train of thought that had kept her awake for most of the night as she’d replayed their kiss over and over. After all, it had only been conjecture on Hortense’s part, so why had Esme been so quick to go along with the notion that Zach and Niko were an item? Esme had been forced to question that too and she couldn’t come up with a solution, except for perhaps it being the only way she was able to feel so completely comfortable with Zach. Because, strangely, the idea of him being interested only in Niko had made being with him so much easier for Esme. There’d been no complication, no trying to read subtext or worrying over hidden agendas – they’d just got along, loving each other’s company. And even though there had been nothing sexual about it, she’d loved the emotional connection, perhaps more than she ought to have done. Perhaps that alone said so much more about her feelings for Zach than she’d been willing to admit.

  He’d been awkward as they’d journeyed home, and neither of them had addressed the incident, and yet there had been passion in that kiss from both sides.

  They’d parted at the hotel and gone their separate ways with only the barest courtesy; he’d been distant and strained and Esme couldn’t understand how so much heat had cooled so quickly – she only knew that it saddened her. She’d woken with him on her mind and had sent him a text to say she’d see him down in the breakfast room, but so far he hadn’t replied and he hadn’t shown up. Did that mean he was avoiding her? It seemed the most obvious explanation.

  ‘I don’t know what to think,’ Esme said.

  ‘Ah! So you do like him. I wouldn’t blame you – he’s rather handsome and really rather sweet. There’s clearly some huge trauma in his past, but aren’t we all a little damaged by the time we reach adulthood? I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be exorcised. You’d be well-suited, I think.’

  Esme stared at Hortense as she gave her impromptu analysis while scooping three sugary pastries onto her plate, emptying the tray they’d occupied.

  ‘I’d take the direct approach,’ she continued. ‘Straight out with it. You don’t get anywhere pussyfooting around.’

  ‘Straight out with what?’

  ‘Ask him if he’s gay.’

  ‘OK,’ Esme said slowly. ‘And if he says yes, what then?’

  ‘Then, dear girl, you needn’t give it another thought. Carry on regardless, enjoy the rest of your holiday and put it all down to experience. Have a laugh about what a ghastly mess it all was.’

  ‘It’s not that simple. I have…’ She was about to say boyfriend again, but she didn’t even know if she did have one of those anymore, at least, not in her own mind. Maybe her inability to make Warren’s existence public didn’t matter anymore regardless. ‘What about Niko?’ she asked lamely instead.

  ‘Precisely my point. In my experience it’s always sensible to take the direct approach so everyone knows where they stand. Just ask him.’

  Esme shook her head. ‘I couldn’t. I wouldn’t even know where to start.’

  Hortense clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth as they moved towards the tiny pots of butter and she grabbed a handful. ‘Perhaps I ought to do it.’

  ‘No!’ Esme glanced around and lowered her voice. ‘No. Thank you, but that would be worse. I’ll talk to him.’

  Hortense shrugged. ‘It may seem awkward now, but at least you’ll know whether it’s worth losi
ng sleep over. No point in ruining the rest of your holiday over nothing. Now… what plans do you have for today?’

  ‘I don’t really know yet. I just thought…’

  What had she thought? That she’d hide in her room all day, rendered useless by her own sense of mortification? Waste her last opportunity to put things right with Zach? Even worse, waste the last precious hours of a holiday that had been gifted with so much love from her grandma? Then again, if she was going to be a grownup and finally take control of her life, perhaps what she ought to be doing was flying home to talk Warren through all the reasons that meant she could now never go back to him. Over the last few days she’d come to the creeping realisation that there were many more of them than she’d ever imagined.

  ‘There’s a carol concert in the town,’ Hortense said. ‘All the local children will be singing. And afterwards Christmas fireworks. You’ll come, won’t you?’

  ‘It does sound nice. But—’

  Hortense patted her hand. ‘Of course it does. That’s settled then.’

  They began to walk back to their table. What was the point in trying to argue – Hortense would only have an answer for everything anyway. And if she didn’t, there was always the danger she’d take matters into her own hands and cause mischief. It was probably better to stick close to her today after all, where Esme could keep an eye on what she might be up to.

  As they sat down, Brian came into the dining room, forfeiting the hot breakfast buffet and heading straight for their table.

  ‘Have you sorted everything?’ he asked, looking from one to the other.

  Esme suppressed a groan. Of course Hortense had told him what she’d seen the previous night and what she’d planned to do about it. And yet, Esme had hoped that, for what she imagined would be the first time in her life, Hortense could have practiced a little discretion.

  ‘She simply refuses to talk to him,’ Hortense said, dipping a cinnamon roll into her coffee before stuffing it into her mouth.

  ‘I can’t say I blame her,’ he replied.