Page 36 of The Christmas Express
I knew that, coming on this trip, things probably wouldn’t go back to anything romantic between us. Too much time has passed. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t hope, if I’m honest with myself. How could I have been so stupid, all that time ago, to have finally got together with the only guy who’s ever made me feel like this, only to push him away as soon as things got hard?
And now he’s in love with someone else.
I stand up straight. He’s in love with someone else, time to let go of the fantasy, and not be an Ember about it.
Not long after, I’m stepping down from the train, and the cold air greets me like a chilly hug, the light seeming brighter, the ground stiller. Obviously. Ahhh. I stretch my arms overhead and open my minty mouth to take a gulp of the frosty air.
We’ve been travelling on the train for over twenty-four hours now, and tomorrow is Christmas Eve. It’s a weird thought that it’ll be Boxing Day before the journey is over, and we’ve made it to Bryn’s wedding.
I don’t know if she’s going to get her wish that we’re all getting along like best buds again, though.
Luke steps off the train behind me and squints into the sunshine, stubble on his face, dishevelled, hunky. Who does he think he is, some kind of nineties movie star? Some kind of . . . heart-throb heartbreaker from a boy band? I scrunch my nose at him, and I give him my best glare until he starts to look over and then I turn my back so he doesn’t see me.
By the time we’ve all crunched over the thick Canadian snow, taken some photos of the surroundings, and pettily queued up separately to buy identical coffees from the kiosk, it’s time to get back onboard, where we’ll remain until a longer stop for refuelling in Winnipeg tonight.
But just as I’m taking my seat back by the window, a commotion outside the carriage catches my eye, and ears.
‘Oh, Jesus,’ I mutter, getting up again and rushing to the train door.
‘I cannot spend another second with you.’ Joss is seething, baring her teeth at her brother, the two of them squaring off on the platform like two duelling panthers about to strike. Beside Joss is her suitcase, which Joe keeps trying to grab.
‘Joss, what are you doing?’ I call from the steps.
‘Leaving. Like I should have done before I ever even went along with this ridiculous plan,’ she spits, without looking at me, her glare focused on her brother.
‘Why are you leaving?’
‘None of your business!’ This time she swings around with such anger it makes me step backwards, right into Ember, who’s appeared behind me. A rush of cold blood seems to race through my veins. I blink at Joss, a deer in headlights, my fingers reaching up to my chin, and for a second, I’m back in Spain, on the last day of the holiday, and even though half a decade has passed, Joss seems just as mad at me today as she did back then.
All my words have deserted me, darted into dark corners of my brain, afraid of the wrath of Joss. A whistle sounds further up the platform.
Joe lunges for her case again. ‘Look. I would rather tie myself to these tracks and let the train run me over than share a compartment with you again, but if you shut up for five seconds and get back on the train then I’m sure we can figure something out for Queen Joss.’
‘Nope,’ she says, snatching her case out of his way. ‘You can go without me. You can all go without me.’
‘What, are you going to live here? Become a forest-woman? Hitchhike to Vancouver?’
‘Maybe I will. I will hitchhike across all of North America before I get back on the train.’
‘You are so . . . !’ Joe growls in frustration.
‘No, you are so, we do not work well together,’ she spells out through snarly lips. ‘You go your way, I’ll go mine.’
‘Oh my Godddddd.’ Joe lifts his hands to his hair. ‘Is this about the business, again?’
‘No, it’s not about the business, because if it was about the business I’d be reminding you that not only are you an awful roommate but a shitty colleague, too.’
Behind me, Ember mutters in recognition. ‘Oh yeah, the failed business.’
‘Fine,’ Joe spits, reaching across and pushing her case over so it thumps onto the tarmac. A small crowd is forming now, people looking out of train windows, passengers pausing halfway up the steps. ‘Fine! Stay here. I don’t care.’
‘Fine!’
Joe turns and strides towards the train. Another whistle blows, and along the platform I can hear people being shooed back inside, and carriage doors being slammed closed.
‘Whoa, hold on,’ I say, putting my hand up in front of Joe and stopping him before he can board. ‘Joss, come on, we have to go.’
Joss, suitcase handle gripped, marches away, her back to me, lifting her middle finger into the air.
