Page 97 of A Winter in Wonderland
‘That’s OK,’ I lied. ‘These things happen. When do I have to go?’
‘If you like, it might be easiest if you don’t come back after Christmas.’
I nodded and stood up, heading to the door, letting her words settle over me like snow over a fallen branch. With one hand on the door handle, I said, ‘But, this is my dream job.’
‘I know. But you’ll find another one really soon, I have no doubt. And I’d be very happy to write you a letter of recommendation if you ever need it.’
‘Thank you,’ I whispered. Outside the door the music hit me like a blast. My co-workers were happily lost in their world of sharing make-up, pouring wine into mugs, adjusting each other’s outfits. And with a scribbled note for Phoebe, I walked away.
It was time to leave, the bartender said so, and I slid off my block-of-ice bar stool and swayed towards the exit. Thecolours beneath the ice sculptures blurred, and I tilted my head to try and figure out what the one in front of me was supposed to be. A dragon, perhaps? Or a dog? I licked it to see if my tongue would stick.
‘OK, ma’am, time to leave,’ the bartender said, appearing behind me and ushering me to the exit, where I grumpily swapped the special ice-bar coat back to my own and then stepped out into the cold night air. It was always so cold here, soFrosty the Snowman. Uggghhhh. So glittery and beautiful and perfect all the time and I was annoyed that Lapland had won me over and that actually I would be so sad to leave, and why did I always have to leave, and why did Josh leave, and Mum, and why did I have to lie to Esteri, and why was that bloodyyyyyyyy Santa Claus ice sculpture juststaring at me?
I sauntered up to the sculpture, four-foot high atop the low, wide gatepost at the entrance to the bar’s gritted car park. I didn’t even care that the other bar-goers were all still milling about outside too, everyone waiting for their rides back to their homes or hotels.
I sighed at Santa, at Christmas itself, and muttered, ‘What are you looking at?’ Then I gave him a nudge. A tap! I swear, officer, he nudged me first!
Icy Santa wobbled. Or maybe I wobbled. Either way, a moment after I turned away, I heard a sound like shattering glass.
The car park became very silent, and I turned, suddenly very sober, to see Santa. Dead.
I had killed Santa Claus.
The bar’s ice sculpture version, at least.
The bar staff came running out and with everybody watching I stumbled and tripped over apologies in both English and what little Finnish I knew. ‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’ll pay for it,olen pahoillani.’ I waved my credit card in the air, my heart beating fast.
You stupid idiot, Myla! You selfish, stupid, idiot!
The sculpture surrounded my feet like diamonds on the ground around me, twinkling in the moonlight, reminding me of every fault I owned.
‘Please, let me pay.’ I couldn’t get away with ruining Christmas for anyone else, not any more.
The bar manager hesitated, and then nodded, taking my card and charging me probably not as much as he should have, but enough to make me realise just how much time and effort it must have taken someone to make that sculpture.
When my taxi came, I climbed inside, the vodka a distant memory, unlike the others that had visited me tonight.
‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered again, my breath misting against the glass of the taxi window.
