A Swedish Christmas Fairy Tale

by Amanda Radley

  Emilia had never really given that much thought to her own appearance. Why would she? It was only her most of the time. She showered frequently, got her hair cut every month, she moisturised as it would be impossible to live in a cold climate without doing so. Aside from those basics, she never considered what she looked like.

  Amber was different, she took a lot of pride in her appearance.

  She leaned back and looked down at herself. Amber had told her that she was welcome to shower and even to pick clothes from her wardrobe. Getting clean and having the chance to freshen up was very appealing. As was taking an—invited—look through Amber’s wardrobe.

  She correctly guessed the off button, and the television screen faded to black. She rinsed out the mug of terrible coffee, somehow delaying going into the bathroom. Of course, she’d already been in there, but this time she’d be showering. Exactly as Amber had been that morning.

  It seemed intimate, which she knew was silly.

  After a while she had tidied everything possible in the kitchen and had to make her way into the bathroom. Amber’s expensive-smelling perfume hit her immediately. She looked at the toiletries that lined the shelves, all the lotions and creams that went into Amber’s preparation for a day in her world.

  She opened a few and sniffed them, feeling naughty as she did. Everything seemed exotic and exciting. Like Amber.

  She decided she had to do something nice for Amber that day. It was incredible that she had opened her home to Emilia despite everything that had happened. And now she was unemployed, desperately seeking work. Emilia had no idea what that felt like, but she wasn’t so naïve that she didn’t understand it was a big deal. Just because she had never had a job herself didn’t mean she couldn’t comprehend the importance of having one. Especially in a place like London.

  She opened the glass shower screen and looked at the taps with a frown. Even that looked like a puzzle in this strange world where Amber dwelled. She pulled, pushed, and twisted various levers and was eventually soaked when a stream of water fell from the ceiling.

  She jumped back and shook her arm a few times. Turning around, she closed and then locked the door. It was probably overkill considering the deadbolt on the front door, but she felt altogether safer knowing the bathroom door was also locked.

  A thought floated through her mind. She wondered who else had been in the apartment. Who else had showered here? Amber had admitted that she was bisexual, had there been other women here? Men? Emilia shivered. She didn’t like the thought of Amber with a lover, whatever the gender.

  But it was completely irrelevant. Amber probably hated her. Just because Emilia was realising that her friendship had started in infatuation and quickly turned into something deeper, it didn’t make any difference to Amber’s feelings.

  She shucked out of her wet clothes, determined to start the day and do something nice for Amber.

  London was noisy, messy, frantic, and terrifying. Emilia sat in a coffee shop and looked out of the fogged-up window onto the rainy street. The rain didn’t bother her, she was used to that in winter in Sweden, but the sheer volume of people on the street had caused her chest to tighten in fear.

  She’d taken cover in the first coffee shop she had found, relieved when a good-quality filter coffee had been placed in front of her by a friendly waitress. Now, she blew the steam from the top of the glorious beverage and watched the scene from behind the protection of the glass window.

  Some people might have considered hiding out in a coffee shop as a failure, but Emilia was proud of herself. She hadn’t run home, which had been her first instinct.

  Walking around the neighbourhood had been equal parts fascinating and petrifying. The masses of people were one thing, but on top of that, everything was different. She of course had known deep down that that would be the case, but it was as if she’d forgotten that other countries would be different to home.

  She’d always been fascinated with the idea of travel. She’d resigned herself to never actually going through with it herself, assuming that she wasn’t brave enough. Travel for Emilia Lund was done via the pages of books. She’d travelled the world a hundred times if reading about places actually counted.

  She knew it didn’t count, not really. She’d always thought that she wouldn’t be brave enough to step foot on foreign soil.

  Until now.

  A smile curled on her lip. She was doing it. She was in London, sitting in a coffee shop, watching the world go by—something she would never have pictured herself doing even a week ago.

  It might have been the simplest thing in the world for most people, even a daily occurrence, but Emilia felt brave. Like she had conquered some kind of fear, achieved a win over her anxiety.

  She wondered if Amber would be proud of her. For some reason, that was important to her. She wanted to tell Amber that she was sitting in a coffee shop, on her own, and everything was fine.

  No panic. No worries about crowds, noise, or bright lights. Just a cup of coffee and a view of the rain-soaked street in front of her.

  She wondered if Amber ever visited this coffee shop. It was one of the ones nearest to her home. Maybe she had sat in the same seat. Emilia smiled at the connection she suddenly felt to Amber, even if it was imaginary.

  Without Amber, she never would have taken this leap into the unknown. She owed the woman a lot, although all she had given her was heartache and stress. Emilia had a plan to try to fix that, to offer her thanks and an apology.

  The thought of making Amber happy caused an unexpected smile to brighten her face.

  33

  Did You Buy an Apron?

  Amber tried the lock and felt the weight of the deadbolt holding the door closed. Emilia was home. She wondered if she’d even ventured outside. Part of her hoped she hadn’t, London was far too dangerous for someone as trusting as Emilia.

  She knocked on the door, hoping that Emilia wasn’t some genius squatter who would now claim ownership of her apartment and complete a hat trick of very shitty events.

  A few seconds later, the deadbolt shifted, and the door opened.

  “Hey!” Emilia grinned.

  “Hi,” Amber whispered, her attention grabbed by the fact that Emilia was wearing a cooking apron. Amber didn’t own a cooking apron.

  Did she bring an apron? No, she had no bags… Did she go out and buy one?

  She stepped over the threshold and was shocked to realise that Emilia was cooking. She must have been out and bought ingredients—and an apron. It was not what she’d expected at all.

  Emilia closed the door behind her.

  “You have a lovely market nearby. And your supermarket is huge. There were so many things I’ve never heard of. But I managed to find all of the ingredients, even if I’d never heard of some of them.” Emilia went back to the hob and started stirring ingredients in a frying pan.

  “You… went shopping?” Amber dropped her handbag on the table. She couldn’t believe that Emilia had been out and was now cooking a meal for her. And had purchased an apron… and was wearing her clothes? She tilted her head to one side. Seeing Emilia from the back she could now see the woman was definitely not wearing the clothes she arrived in.

  You did say she could wear your clothes, she reminded herself.

  “Yes. And I went to a coffee shop. And I bought some better coffee. The coffee you have is… very weak.”

  Amber laughed. “Yeah, it’s rubbish. I knew you’d hate it.”

  “I don’t hate it,” Emilia denied. “I just know there is better coffee available.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You hate it.” Amber took off her jacket and placed it on the back of a dining chair. “What are you making? It smells familiar.”

  Emilia looked at her nervously, biting her lip.

  “What?” Amber asked.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I saw a recipe book in the kitchen. I wanted to make you a meal, but I didn’t know what you liked. I saw this pork recipe, and the page was very well
worn so I assumed it must be a favourite.”

  Amber smiled. She had expected Emilia to snoop around while she was gone. If the worst she had done was check out her mother’s recipe book, then it didn’t worry her.

  “The pork with broccoli and sesame?” Amber asked.

  “Yes. And the sauce, which smells amazing. It has a lot in it, so I hope I’m making it right.”

  “Smells delicious. You didn’t have to do this,” Amber told her. She looked around the apartment. Something felt different. “Did you clean?”

  “Oh, yes, I cleaned the whole apartment. It didn’t take long because it’s so sm… it was very clean already.”

  Amber walked around in shock. Everything looked so neat and shiny. Her terrible day was being quickly turned around. She may have been disappointed at every recruitment consultant she went to, especially the last one which had closed early for a Christmas party, but coming home to her favourite meal and a clean apartment was great.

  “You really didn’t have to do all this,” Amber said.

  “I know. I wanted to.” Emilia focused on the meal.

  “And it’s adorable that you bought an apron,” Amber teased.

  “Well, I am wearing your clothes,” Emilia pointed out.

  “Indeed you are.” Amber looked forward to seeing the fitted white blouse on Emilia when the apron came off. She shook her head and turned away. She needed to keep perspective and stop thinking of Emilia in that way, even if she was thrilled about finally seeing her in something other than thick, cosy sweaters.

  “Is that okay?” Emilia looked worried. She started to pull at the apron strings. “I can take it off?”

  Please, Amber thought. “No, it’s fine. It looks good on you.”

  Emilia blushed. “No, no. You look much better in office wear.”

  They paused and looked at each other for a moment, each unsure what to say next. The atmosphere was becoming slightly charged, and Amber didn’t know what to make of it. Emilia had spent a lot of time staring at her body that morning, but that could probably be explained by Emilia not seeing another female body very often. She was… curious.

  Probably.

  A little voice in Amber’s head suggested that maybe Emilia wasn’t just curious.

  “Did you have any luck at your meetings?” Emilia asked, thankfully changing the subject.

  “No. As I feared, everyone is winding down for Christmas. I need to spend some time online looking for jobs.” She winced as she remembered something. “Oh, damn. I can’t tonight.”

  “No?”

  “No, I just remembered what day it is. You recall that I volunteer at the local library to read to kids. At first it was a great way to do some market research, you know, speak to kids about books. What better place, right? But then I found I really enjoyed it, so I kept going.” She ran a hand through her hair, stressed that her evening with the laptop was slipping through her fingers.

  “That sounds like a lot of fun. Maybe I could come along?” Emilia asked.

  “Absolutely, it would be great to have some company.” For all her work-related anxiety, she was surprised at how quickly she agreed. Surely, she should have wanted Emilia gone? Out of her clothes and her apartment? Back in Sweden and well away from her?

  But she didn’t. Despite the residual anger still floating around her brain, she wanted Emilia with her.

  “I… I’m going to get changed,” she said. She’d left the room to get some space before Emilia had the chance to reply.

  She sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the floor for a few long moments. She still didn’t know exactly what was going on between them. Nothing made sense. Emilia was unlike anyone she’d ever met before, and while that endeared the woman to her, it also made it harder to figure things out.

  “I’ll talk to her tonight,” she muttered to herself. “Finally clear the air.”

  She had no idea what she was going to say but starting the conversation at all would be a step in the right direction.

  34

  At the Library

  The library was a modern building which seemed to incorporate many council services under one roof. Amber had explained how recent council funding cuts had caused many libraries in the UK to be closed, but some had managed to survive and even thrive by being in buildings that combined many things in one place.

  It was nothing like the run-down library back home which Emilia knew so well. This building was spacious, warm, and welcoming. There was a café serving hot drinks and cakes. Down one corridor was a doctor’s surgery and a pharmacy. Down another corridor were a handful of community spaces to be rented out.

  Emilia could easily see the benefits. While councils may struggle to find funding for a library, combining that service with many others was much more financially sound. Especially when some of those services made a profit, like the café.

  She liked this approach, especially as it led to a well-stocked library that was filled with children happily running around and begging their parents to be allowed to borrow books.

  “This is wonderful,” Emilia said.

  “It is,” Amber agreed. “I’ve always loved this library. And they have quite a few Walker Clay books in the children’s section… donations, I believe.” She shrugged innocently and walked further into the library.

  Amber had only gone a few steps when two children, a boy and a girl, collided with her legs.

  “Amber! Are you reading to us?” the little girl asked.

  Emilia felt her heart swell; the children were adorable.

  “I am!”

  “Yes!” The boy jumped up and down with excitement.

  Amber ruffled his hair. “But I don’t know what to read, maybe you can get some suggestions?”

  Happy with the task, the children rushed off. Emilia could hear them telling their friends that Amber was there and that they had been chosen to pick the books. The pride was clear in their tones.

  “I usually read two or three books,” Amber explained. “Obviously, I do the voices and sound effects and will have to kill you if you mock me later.”

  Emilia chuckled. “Understood, no mocking. I’m sure you do a wonderful job.”

  “The kids like it,” Amber said.

  “I bet, I would have loved this when I was a child,” Emilia said.

  “Oh, come on.” Amber laughed. “You had your grandmother reading her best-selling, award-winning books to you.”

  “Not as often as I would have liked,” Emilia confessed.

  It was the first time she had admitted that her childhood was anything less than perfect.

  Amber looked confused, but before she could ask anything further, the children were back with handfuls of books. She looked at Emilia apologetically. “I’m sorry… I…”

  “It’s fine, go. Go.” Emilia shooed her away with a smile.

  Amber gathered the children into a large circle in the middle of the children’s section. Some sat on beanbags, some on tiny chairs, some simply cross-legged on the floor. Amber sat on a small chair which she only just fit on.

  A little boy shyly approached her and whispered in her ear. Emilia couldn’t hear what he said, but a moment later Amber had nodded and gently positioned the boy on her lap.

  Emilia’s heart was full to bursting at the endearing scene.

  The room grew silent. Amber opened up the hardbacked book and held it in one hand, her other arm wrapped around the boy on her lap. She started to read. Emilia was blown away with the passion that Amber put into the reading. When she’d heard Amber read before, it had been in broken Swedish. In her native language, it was a completely different matter.

  Amber was an extremely accomplished reader, pausing in all the right places for extra dramatic emphasis. Her accents made the children, and most of the parents, laugh.

  If Emilia had harboured any doubts about her feelings for Amber before, now she knew for certain. She was rapidly falling in love with the impressive woman.

  She turne
d away, needing some space.

  She browsed through the children’s books, smiling at the bright colours and the weird and wonderful titles. She told herself that she was simply browsing, but in her heart, she knew her eyes were skimming, looking for something familiar.

  Eventually, she found it on the bottom shelf. A copy of a Charlotte Lund collection.

  She slid the book from the shelf and frowned. It was a little moth-eaten. It looked out of place compared to the other books.

  Before she could inspect it further, a little girl rounded the corner at high speed and nearly collided with Emilia, stopping herself moments before impact.

  “Sorry,” the girl apologised.

  “It’s okay,” Emilia replied.

  The girl put a book she was holding back on the shelf. “The library say I have too many books out already,” the girl complained.

  “How many can you have?” Emilia asked.

  “Fifteen.”

  “That’s quite a lot,” Emilia said. “You must be a very good reader.”

  The girl nodded, seemingly happy with the praise.

  “I’m sure you’ll read your books in no time, and then you can come back and get that one.”

  “I will,” the girl agreed. “But it’s okay. I’ve already read it, it’s my favourite book.”

  “Oh.” Emilia picked up the book. It looked bright and fun, with made-up animals on the front. She flipped through, intrigued by the style of the book. It was like nothing she had seen before.

  She looked at the girl and held up the collection of her grandmother’s stories. “Have you ever read this one?”

  The girl looked at it and shook her head. She reached out and took the book from Emilia’s hand. She opened it up and leafed through the pages, a frown on her face.

  “What do you think of it?” Emilia asked.