A Swedish Christmas Fairy Tale

by Amanda Radley

  She slumped in her seat, running her hand through her hair and taking a deep breath. Something dug into her side. She adjusted her jacket, realising that something in the pocket was being pressed into her ribs.

  Her fingers grazed the item to move it. Her eyes widened. Her legs no longer felt weak. With her new purpose, she jumped to her feet, knowing what she needed to do.

  39

  Flying Home

  Emilia leaned her head on the window and watched as the men below the plane manhandled luggage. She was suddenly very glad she hadn’t brought any. The cases were being tossed from a tiny truck to a conveyor belt in a way that Emilia was sure wouldn’t do the contents any good.

  But still she stared at the events unfolding below her. Anything to distract from the pain in her chest at having to be parted from Amber. She didn’t know how she’d had the strength to walk away. Everything inside her was saying that she should stay.

  She couldn’t. She couldn’t impose herself on Amber’s kindness anymore. She had to leave and go back home.

  Even if home suddenly felt different.

  For the first time in her adult memory, Emilia felt as if home was somewhere she didn’t have to be. It was a surprising feeling. She had always assumed she wanted to stay home because she felt safe there. Now it was becoming clearer to her that she stayed because she felt she had to be there.

  Finally admitting what had happened to rip her perfect family apart had opened up parts of Emilia that she hadn’t thought about in many years. She recalled rushing home from school to look after her grandfather as he became increasingly frailer.

  When he had died, and she was completely alone, she’d felt the weight of responsibility bear down on her shoulders with a ferocious weight. It was her duty to keep her grandmother’s legacy alive and to manage the Lund home to the best of her ability. Even if she was still practically a child.

  It was unfair, but she had had no one to explain that to. So, she’d got on with her designated role, all the while burying her feelings about the unjust situation. Who was she to complain? She was alive and healthy. That was more than could be said for her beloved family.

  The floodgates were opening. Things that she never thought about, or spoke about, were bubbling to the surface. It was as if the suspended animation she had been in was finally beginning to crack and she was able to process what had happened.

  She felt relief. As if she were waking up from a very long sleep. Which she supposed grief was.

  “Is this seat taken?” someone asked.

  “No,” Emilia murmured, still staring at the poor luggage being battered around below the plane.

  “Then I’ll sit here.”

  The person sat beside her.

  “Okay,” Emilia agreed.

  “Unless you’d like for me to leave?”

  It took a few moments for Emilia to realise what was happening.

  I know that voice, she thought. Can it really be?

  She slowly turned, hoping that her ears were not playing tricks on her.

  “Amber!” She looked around the cabin wildly, expecting it to be some kind of joke or illusion.

  “Yes, but don’t tell anyone. I’m supposed to be in 27A.” Amber grinned. “Oh, I hope you can lend me some clothes when we get there, I forgot to pack a bag.”

  “You’re here!” Emilia dragged her into a hug. “You’re actually here.”

  “I couldn’t say goodbye.”

  “You… you paid for a flight?” Emilia leaned back and stared at Amber in shock.

  “Yep. And, wow, do Scandinavian Airlines know how to charge for a last-minute flight.”

  “I’ll pay you back,” Emilia decided immediately.

  “No need, I have a new job. My boss pays me well.” Amber winked.

  “You’re… you’re really here?” Emilia still couldn’t believe it.

  “I am. I haven’t worn this coat since I came back from Sweden, it still has my passport in it. And then I thought, ‘Why not?’”

  Emilia grabbed hold of Amber’s hand tightly, fearful to let go.

  “Seriously, I either need to borrow some clothes or go to the mall.” Amber laughed. “I’ve never boarded a plane with just my passport, keys, and purse before. You’re a bad influence on me, Emilia Lund.” She leaned in, placing a sweet kiss on Emilia’s lips.

  “I am. A terrible influence,” Emilia agreed. “And you can borrow my clothes. Or we can go to the mall. I can, I’m brave now.”

  Amber chuckled. “We’ll see. We don’t want to use all your bravery up so soon. Besides, I might like searching through your wardrobe as much as you did mine.”

  “I think I’d like that,” Emilia admitted. “But I will need to go to the mall anyway. Maybe you can drive us?”

  Amber looked at her in surprise. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

  “That is what I want.” Emilia wrapped her hands around Amber’s upper arm and held on, afraid if she let go that she might wake up from the nicest dream she’d had in a long time.

  “And what are we buying at the mall?” Amber asked in a whisper, obviously not wanting to break the mood.

  “You’ll see,” Emilia said. The smile broke out in a shiver on her face. “I’m very glad you’re here.”

  “I’m very glad I’m here, too.” Amber brought her hand up to place it over Emilia’s. “You do indeed cause havoc, but I think I like it.”

  40

  Merry Christmas

  Hugo stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he saw Amber standing on the porch to greet him. He looked uncertain, trying to peek around Amber in search of Emilia.

  “Hej,” he said carefully.

  “Hi. I’m so glad you could make it.” Amber stood to one side and gestured for him to enter the house.

  He smiled hesitantly as he passed her and entered the entrance hall. Amber kicked off the untied boots she had borrowed from Emilia and waited while Hugo took off his boots, coat, scarf, and gloves.

  “God Jul,” she said, trying to break the ice.

  “God Jul,” he replied, still a little uncertain.

  “Look, Hugo, I’m sorry about what happened the last time we met,” Amber started. She didn’t want there to be a negative atmosphere, on Christmas Day of all days. Well, Christmas Eve. Which was like Christmas Day in Sweden, apparently.

  Their last meeting hadn’t gone so well, but they were going to be seeing a lot of each other and so she needed to iron things out.

  “I’m the one who should apologise,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said anything, and I really shouldn’t have said what I did say.”

  “It all worked out for the best, in the end,” she reassured him.

  He hopped on one foot, keeping his one remaining boot off the clean floor.

  “It did?” he asked. “Things are… good?”

  “Yes, things are very good,” she said. “Even better now you’re here. Emilia has some things she wants to show you.”

  He raised an eyebrow, but Amber didn’t say anything else. She walked past him and into the house.

  “Are you sure I can’t help with anything?” she asked Emilia, who was busily tending to several saucepans and checking on things in the oven.

  “I’m sure that you are no help in the kitchen at all,” Emilia chuckled at her own quip. “Where is Hugo?”

  “Getting his boots off, give him a minute,” Amber admonished lightly. She knew Emilia was very excited to see him and to show off a few new additions to the house. It was clear that Emilia enjoyed proving herself to people. Whenever she did something new or something she considered brave she couldn’t wait to tell Amber or text Hugo.

  Amber presumed that was due to Emilia not having much faith in herself, something that seemed to be slowly changing.

  “Sorry, new boots.” Hugo entered the kitchen and swept Emilia into a big hug.

  Amber felt a spark of jealousy but quickly pushed it back down. Hugo was Emilia’s best friend, she needed to get used to that. And
the endless talking about Hugo. And the fact that they were apparently huggers.

  Who hugged for a very long time.

  She cleared her throat and Hugo sprang back.

  Emilia didn’t seem to notice. She grabbed his hand and led him from the kitchen towards the living area.

  “Look,” she instructed.

  Hugo looked around in confusion until his eyes settled on the television screen. He looked at Emilia in surprise. “A TV? Nice!”

  “Yes, I watch TV now,” she told him.

  “Good, I have a lot of shows to recommend to you,” he replied. He turned to face Amber. “You are a very good influence on her.”

  “That’s nothing,” Amber said. “Check your phone.”

  He frowned but got his phone out of his pocket and stared at it blankly for a moment.

  “Wi-fi?” He almost cried. He looked up at Amber. “She’s online?”

  “She is right here,” Emilia said. Something caught her attention in the kitchen, and she hurried off to deal with it.

  “She is online. She has an email address now,” Amber said.

  He looked impressed. “You work fast. You’ve been here, what, three days?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t do anything,” Amber admitted. “Emilia wanted to get a television and enable the wi-fi on the phone line. I just drove the car and helped her with the technical details.”

  He regarded her for a few moments, a touch of a smile in his expression. He stepped closer to her.

  “You will be good to her, yes?” he asked.

  Amber tried to cover her smirk at the attempted cold glare he was giving her. Attempted because he looked terrified of her. She knew from Emilia that Hugo was very gentle and afraid of his own shadow. The fact that he was trying to intimidate Amber was quite amusing.

  But also very sweet. He cared about Emilia, that much was abundantly clear.

  “I assure you, I want what is best for Emilia,” she whispered back.

  “What are you two whispering about?” Emilia asked from the kitchen area.

  “I’m offering Hugo a drink,” Amber called back. She leaned in and whispered to him again, “I know how special Emilia is. Trust me, I’m going to do everything I can to make her happy.”

  His frame loosened in relief, and he nodded. “Good, she deserves that.”

  “Stop whispering,” Emilia demanded of both of them. “I know you’re talking about me, you know.”

  Amber had never experienced Christmas in any country other than Britain, so it was a bit of a culture shock to be celebrating Christmas on the twenty-fourth of December, with no turkey, listening to two Swedes singing something that resembled a pirate’s sea shanty to her ears.

  “So, Santa doesn’t come down the chimney here?” Amber asked once they finished singing and drinking some foul-looking liquid which she’d declined based on a quick sniff test.

  “No, he comes to your house,” Hugo said.

  “How does he get in?” Amber asked.

  “Through the door,” Emilia replied. “And he comes during the day, so the children see him.”

  Amber lowered her wine glass and placed her hand over Emilia’s. “Sweetheart, I don’t know how to tell you this… but Santa isn’t real.”

  Emilia gasped playfully. “Don’t say such things, you know that Santa is real. And his name is Tomten.”

  “People dress up as him,” Hugo explained as he played with the decorative floral centrepiece. “I dress up and visit my niece.”

  “That’s really weird,” Amber said.

  “And a strange man who breaks into children’s houses in the middle of the night while they are sleeping is perfectly normal, I suppose?” Emilia asked.

  Amber opened her mouth to reply but realised she had nothing to say. She’d always just accepted that Santa was a magical old man who delivered presents, somehow squeezing down the chimney and stealing food and booze from the mantelpiece before leaving gifts and going to the next house. Now that she thought about it, that seemed very strange and dark. Maybe the Swedish way was better.

  “You both have to eat more,” Emilia instructed.

  Hugo abandoned the centrepiece and stood up. He grabbed his dinner plate and hurried over to the kitchen where enough food to feed twenty people sat in a buffet style.

  “I’m going to need a little bit of digesting time,” Amber said.

  “Okay, but you must try the herring.”

  “I’m not trying the herring.” Amber shook her head. It was another thing that had failed the sniff test.

  “What if I offered you a kiss?” Emilia asked teasingly.

  “I don’t want to kiss a herring.” Amber winked.

  “You are impossible.” Emilia smiled as she snatched up her dinner plate and went to the kitchen for second helpings.

  “When are you going home, Amber?” Hugo asked.

  “I don’t know yet,” she admitted.

  They hadn’t spoken about it. Since she had arrived they had studiously avoided the topic of when she would leave again. It was obvious that she would have to at some point, but with Christmas looming so close, neither wanted to consider spending the holidays without the other.

  She noticed Emilia looking at her nervously.

  “I don’t have to work and I’m having a great time here, so I’ll stay as long as I’m welcome,” she said, staring directly at Emilia as she did.

  Emilia looked visibly relieved.

  “Good. Maybe you can both come to Copenhagen with me for New Year’s Eve?” Hugo suggested.

  “Yes, I think we’d like that,” Emilia said.

  Hugo looked stunned, as if he had asked on a whim but assumed that the answer would be no. Amber filed away a mental note to speak to Emilia about it more later. While Emilia kept claiming that she was ‘braver now’, Amber didn’t want her to go too far too soon.

  Things were still up in the air for both of them, they were still navigating what their new relationship meant. Discussions had taken place regarding Amber’s new status as the agent to the Lund collection, and agreements had been made. She’d take over the role with immediate effect after Christmas was over and they could speak with Magnus.

  Amber had a hundred ideas for ways to rejuvenate the books, and plenty to speak about with Emilia when the time was right. In the meantime, she was far more interested in getting to know Emilia on a personal level.

  They’d spoken about what they both were feeling, the consensus being that they were falling hard for one another. Amber couldn’t believe that she had been unable to find the perfect partner for her in the city of London but had found who she strongly believed to be the one in a small town in Sweden.

  Fate, she kept telling herself. Or maybe a Christmas miracle.

  “Eat more food,” Emilia whispered in her ear as she sat back down at the dining table.

  “I will, I’m just preoccupied,” Amber admitted.

  “By?”

  “Realising how lucky I am,” she said. “And how this is the best Christmas ever.”

  Emilia leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. It was much tamer than the kiss they had shared before Hugo’s arrival, Amber noted with a grin.

  “You say the sweetest things,” Emilia told her.

  Amber picked up her wine glass and gestured for Emilia to do the same.

  “To us,” Amber toasted.

  “Merry Christmas,” Emilia said.

  “God Jul,” Amber replied, and they clinked their glasses together.

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