A Swedish Christmas Fairy Tale

by Amanda Radley

  “It’s okay,” the girl said, though it was obvious she was being kind. “But I don’t think I’ll read it.” She handed the book back.

  Emilia tried to smile. “Maybe one day when you have read all the other books.”

  “Maybe,” the girl agreed.

  Probably not, Emilia thought, judging from her tone.

  A woman’s voice called out a name in the distance.

  “I have to go,” the girl said.

  “Nice talking to you,” Emilia said. She watched the girl leave before looking at the two books in her hands.

  They were like night and day in the way they were presented. One was modern with bright colours and drawings made with thick brushstrokes. The other was classic in appearance, the drawings black and white in charcoal sketches with hints of pale watercolours.

  She placed the colourful book back on the shelf before crouching down and putting the Lund collection back where she had found it, on the lower shelf. When she stood, she took a step back and took in all of the books at once. Her eyes scanned carefully over the shelves, looking at each book.

  Her breath hitched in her chest.

  In the distance she could hear Amber’s voice as she read to the children. She knew in that moment that no child would ever request the Lund collection, and none of them would hear Amber reading it to them.

  She shivered at the thought.

  35

  A Job Offer

  The walk home was silent. Amber knew something was wrong with Emilia but decided to leave her to speak up about whatever it was. She didn’t think it was Emilia’s anxiety, as she had happily spoken with both children and parents at the library. It was something that had happened during or after the reading. Probably when she vanished from Amber’s sight for a while.

  Something had Emilia’s mind ensnared. Amber could only wait for her to say what it was.

  The silence aside, she’d had a lovely night. She hadn’t thought it would be possible to have a pleasant night considering the disappointing day. Coming home to her favourite meal, which Emilia had cooked perfectly, and then seeing all the kids and talking to them about Father Christmas had been great.

  If she could just sort out her employment situation, things would be perfect.

  Until Emilia went home and took with her home-cooked meals, cuddles on the sofa, and appreciative looks when she thought Amber wasn’t looking.

  They hadn’t discussed when Emilia was going home, mainly, if she admitted it, because Amber didn’t want to say goodbye. Over the course of the evening, her anger had faded to nothing and been replaced with fondness.

  In fact, her anger had been piled, quite rightly, at Bronwyn’s door. The woman who’d wanted her gone for months, and the woman who’d given her the impossible task. Bronwyn had used Emilia’s reclusive nature against Amber. That wasn’t Emilia’s fault, all Emilia had ever done was be herself.

  And lie, Amber reminded herself. She still didn’t know why, but she couldn’t imagine the reason was a malicious one. That just didn’t fit Emilia’s personality.

  As much as Amber hated being lied to, it did mean that she got to experience Swedish culture and have some of the most fun she’d had in years. Even if that fun was primarily reading and talking with Emilia.

  It wasn’t like she’d been on holiday to a theme park or a ski lodge and had fun in a place designed for enjoyment. She’d been to a place where she’d had some truly terrible experiences, and still felt like she had a great time.

  She couldn’t ignore that that was because of Emilia.

  All the best moments were when she was just hanging out with Emilia.

  It was hard to align the woman she’d enjoyed spending so much time with, and the woman who had lied to her and caused her stress beyond measure. She found herself in a push-pull mindset. One moment she wanted to sweep Emilia into a tender hug and look after her, the next she wanted to keep her at arm’s length because of the trouble she had caused.

  They arrived back at the apartment, Emilia pushing the button for the elevator.

  “Would you like some foul coffee when we get in?” Amber asked, trying to generate some conversation. “Or maybe some tea? It’s harder to ruin that.”

  “Tea sounds nice,” Emilia said. Her gaze was fixed on the doors as something turned in her mind.

  They entered the apartment, Emilia dead-bolting the front door like a pro despite her obvious distraction.

  Amber made tea while Emilia emptied the dishwasher. Emilia had never seen a dishwasher before, so Amber had shown her how to stack it and turn it on. She was struck by how pleasantly domestic it was as they both went about their respective tasks in companionable silence.

  Somehow, she knew that Emilia’s thoughts were not anxious or angry, they were contemplative. She also knew that she’d talk about them whenever she was ready.

  They sat on the sofa with their tea. Amber reached for the remote control.

  “Can we talk?” Emilia asked.

  “Sure.” She leaned back on the sofa and pivoted herself to face Emilia.

  “I’d like you to do something for me.” Emilia placed her mug on the coffee table, her fingers knotting together anxiously.

  “Which is?” Amber asked.

  “I… I realise I’ve been very selfish,” Emilia said. “In more ways than one. You see, I was so consumed by never spoiling my grandmother’s books that I think I have condemned them without knowing it.”

  Amber eyes widened in surprise. She hadn’t expected that admission.

  “I told you that I would never give my grandmother’s books to a faceless corporation, and that’s still true. I fear giving control over to people who don’t care as much as I do,” Emilia said. She stared down at her hands.

  “My grandmother had an agent who dealt with these things, Magnus. He worked alongside her and dealt with all of the business and publishing elements. When I took control of the rights, I was so grateful for Magnus because he knew everything that I didn’t. He kept the books in a form I could recognise, and they continued to sell.”

  “I know of Magnus, he’s not the easiest to get hold of,” Amber said.

  “Because I’m selfish,” Emilia replied. “He is very old, he doesn’t want to work anymore, and I make him because I haven’t found anyone else to do the job. He’s stuck. Because of me.”

  Amber couldn’t deny the facts. The poor old man was stuck. Many people would have let go of the obligation somehow, but she suspected that a strong work ethic and a relationship with the family that stretched back decades made that impossible for poor Magnus.

  “And I’m ruining the books, I’m killing them.” Emilia covered her face with her hands as she started to sob.

  Amber put her tea mug down and scooted closer. She put her hands on Emilia’s knee.

  “Hey, no… you’re not doing that at all.”

  “I am,” Emilia breathed.

  “You’re not, the books are fine. They are charting well throughout Scandinavia.”

  Emilia lowered her hands. Her eyes were red and wild as she looked at Amber.

  “Maybe back home, and in our neighbouring countries. But not overseas. Not like they were. I’d convinced myself that sales decline naturally, but they don’t. They only do that if you don’t keep up with trends. I saw a little girl at the library today, she’s an avid reader and had to put a book back because she already had too many out on loan.”

  Amber plucked a tissue from the nearby box and held it out to Emilia.

  “Thank you.” She wiped at her tears. “I found a copy of one of the Lund collection. It looked old and torn. Well-loved, but abandoned on the bottom shelf. I asked the girl if she would consider borrowing it, and she said no. When I compared it to the book she had returned to the shelf, they were similar but completely different.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The stories were similar; most children’s stories are when you think about fairy tales and the lessons they aim to teach. But
the design was different. The inside was familiar, but the packaging was not.”

  “Ah.” Amber knew exactly what she was referring to. The fact that the Lund books looked their age and most children weren’t going to be attracted to that.

  “Children want things that are new and exciting,” Emilia said. “They don’t want things that look old, that’s for us adults. We want to hang onto our past, but to children it just looks… boring. And no child will want to pick up the Lund collection unless things change.”

  “But you need a faceless corporation in order to do that,” Amber said.

  “No, no.” Emilia smiled through her tears. “I need you.”

  “Me?” Amber sat back in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t understand the business side of publishing. I don’t actually think I understand anything about publishing, aside from the books it eventually produces. You do. And you understand what children want. I want you to be my agent. Magnus can finally retire, and I… I promise I will listen to you. I want the Lund collection to live on. I want a child in London to pick up a book and have the same feelings I did when I was a child.”

  Amber blinked a few times to clear her mind. “You… you know what you’re asking, right?”

  “I’ll pay you, of course. Well, the Lund estate will. It will be a job. A proper job. And I will listen.”

  Amber held up her hand to stop Emilia’s rambling.

  “You’ll not like what I have to say,” Amber warned. “I’ll tell you that all of the illustrations need to go. And the titles need to change. I’ll want to drop some of the darker stories altogether, even if they have a good meaning to them.”

  Emilia nodded sadly. “I know, I know. Things cannot remain the same forever.”

  Amber didn’t want to argue with Emilia. Just the thought of trying to convince her which artist to use in the refresh was already giving her a headache.

  “I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” she confessed.

  “But… it has to be you, I don’t trust anyone else.”

  “You need to shop around for an agent, or a publisher, that you like.”

  “I like you.”

  “I’m not an agent.”

  “You could be,” Emilia argued.

  Amber stood up and looked out of the window. It was true, she could be an agent. She didn’t know if she wanted to be one, but it was a job she had some experience with. But working for Emilia… could that work?

  Then again, they’d been through a time that could have torn them apart and now they were enjoying tea in Amber’s living room. Would arguing with Emilia really be that terrible? It wasn’t like she was the sort to throw things, just pout like a puppy who was denied a treat. It was better than working with someone volatile like Bronwyn.

  And Emilia wouldn’t have to be her only client. Maybe this was a chance to carve out a new career, one where she worked for herself. The idea of being a self-employed agent was exhilarating and terrifying.

  Why the hell not? Amber thought to herself. You know you can do this. And you’ll be helping Emilia out, as a friend. The Lund collection deserves to live on.

  “Okay,” she said. She turned around from the window and nodded at Emilia.

  Emilia blinked. “O-okay? You mean you’ll do it?”

  “Yes, I’ll be your agent.”

  Emilia jumped up from the sofa and enveloped her in a bear hug. “Thank you, thank you! I promise I will listen to what you have to say. I will remind myself that I want the Lund collection to live on forever and that you can help me to do that.”

  “I don’t make any promises, publishing is a difficult industry,” Amber warned.

  Emilia leaned back, her arms still loosely around Amber’s shoulders. “I know. I know you will do your best, and that’s all I can ask.”

  “I need to know something first,” Amber said. “I need to know why you lied to me. Why did you get me to come and stay with you when you had no intention of signing a contract? Or did you think that maybe you would? Has this been bubbling away for a while?”

  Emilia lowered her arms and took a step back. She shook her head. “No, I was never going to sign that contract. If you wanted us to go to Walker Clay in the future, I would now have to consider it. But at that time… no.”

  “Then why did you lie to me?”

  Emilia’s cheeks flushed a deep red. “I wanted a friend.”

  Amber’s heart broke. “A… friend?”

  “Yes. It can’t have escaped your notice that I don’t have many people in my life. When your letter arrived, Hugo suggested I meet up with you just to have some kind of social interaction with someone. The only person I really speak to is him. I wanted to prove to him that I could talk to other people. And then I met you, and it was so nice and easy to talk to you. I wondered if we’d be friends if we knew each other better, but I knew that you would never be back…”

  “Unless you lied about the contract,” Amber realised. “So, you asked me to stay so that… we might end up being friends?”

  “Yes. I know that sounds silly. I just… I don’t really understand it all myself. Part of me wanted to prove to Hugo that I could make friends, that there was nothing wrong with me and I could socialise just fine without his help.”

  “And the other part of you?”

  “The other part of me wanted you to be my friend,” Emilia confessed. “I wanted to prove the same thing to myself, but I knew that lying to you was wrong and it was eating me up. I convinced myself that you would have stayed anyway because you were having such a fun time. I ruined everything.”

  Amber wanted to be angry about the subterfuge, but how could she be? Emilia was obviously lonely and out of practice when it came to the art of making friends. In some ways Amber felt like she was speaking with a child who knew it was wrong to steal but had done so simply because they were hungry. There was an ethical dilemma, but could she forgive the crime if she understood the motive behind it?

  In this case, Amber knew she could. Being angry at Emilia was impossible.

  “You didn’t ruin everything. I understand,” she said.

  “You... you do?”

  “I do. I don’t like the way you went about it, but I understand it,” Amber admitted.

  “So, I haven’t ruined everything?” Emilia looked at her with big doe eyes.

  Amber chuckled. “No, you haven’t ruined everything. Not at all. I don’t think I could ever be mad at you.”

  Emilia launched forward and hugged Amber again, this time nearly knocking her off her feet. Amber wrapped her arms around her and swayed along with her.

  “Thank you, thank you,” Emilia said again. “I really thought what I had done was unforgivable.”

  “It was pretty shitty,” Amber confessed, “but I understand you didn’t mean harm by it. Your heart was in the right place. And I can’t deny that I had a great time being your friend.”

  Emilia adjusted her position, sliding her cheek along Amber’s until her soft lips captured hers. Amber was shocked by the sudden and unexpected kiss, too shocked to respond. Emilia’s hands softly touched her cheeks, and she kissed her again.

  Amber woke up from her daze, took Emilia’s hands, and stepped backwards.

  Hurt flashed across Emilia’s face.

  “I… I don’t think this is a good idea,” Amber said.

  Emilia blushed deeply. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I got… swept up. I’m sorry, that was wrong of me. I’ll… I’ll be flying home tomorrow. I leave at midday. Of course I’ll keep my mobile phone on so I can speak to my new agent,” she said with a tentative grin. “We can still work together, I hope?”

  “Yes, of course. I just—”

  “I’m tired, I think I’ll go to bed.” Emilia turned and all but ran towards the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

  36

  A Lot Braver than You Think

  Amber stared at the closed door in shock. She couldn’t believe that Emilia had kissed he
r, and she had no idea what it meant. Emilia was unlike anyone Amber had met before, and so analysing her behaviour was practically impossible at times.

  She wished she’d reacted better. She stepped away from the kiss because she was worried that they were rushing into things. It was obvious there was a tension between them, but she didn’t know if it was a shared tension or if Emilia was picking up on Amber’s feelings. The last thing she wanted to do was push Emilia into something she wasn’t ready for.

  The whole point in stopping the kiss was so she could understand better what Emilia was thinking and make sure that she didn’t get hurt. But it appeared that she’d done that anyway.

  She groaned and sat on the sofa, her head in her hands. She’d royally messed up.

  There’s been a lot to process, she reminded herself. It’s been a stressful time.

  There was no way that this wouldn’t affect their friendship. A rejected kiss wasn’t something that anyone could easily bounce back from. Amber hadn’t really meant to reject the kiss. Ordinarily, the idea of sharing a kiss with Emilia would have made her ecstatic. But she needed to be sure. She needed to know what Emilia was thinking and feeling, and how it would affect their new positions, which they also hadn’t fully talked about.

  Everything was up in the air, and Amber felt like her head was about to explode.

  Emilia Lund was a complicated woman to figure out. That fact wasn’t helped by the fact that Amber knew she had feelings for her. Somewhere, buried in the fascination, anger, and general confusion, lurked fondness. And more, if she were honest with herself.

  She touched her lips and closed her eyes, reliving the moment and wishing she’d reacted differently. All she wanted to do was check they were on the same page and make sure they moved slowly as things were changing so fast. If she’d not been so shocked and had been able to react better, she’d still be kissing Emilia.

  The door clicked. She lowered her hand and snapped her head up to see a very embarrassed Emilia in the doorway.