Page 51 of The Christmas Express
‘As usual,’ I agree, remembering his festive reading habits. ‘A gift from your girlfriend?’
Merry Christmas, Cali, here’s a little torture for you.
‘Uh . . . yeah,’ he replies, and the mood in the room changes, the distance between us widening again.
‘Don’t get any ideas, though,’ I joke. From our place still crouched on the floor, his gaze flicks to mine. Oh my God, get some ideas please, just not murdery ones. ‘Murdery ideas, I mean.’
No. No, this is just proximity and Christmastime and the fact my fake boyfriend can’t hold a decent conversation to save his life. I did not come on this trip to pine after Luke. Yes, I did. No, I didn’t! We did not work then; we will not work now. Get up, Cali.
I obey myself and push up off the floor. Luke does the same and then loads my hands up with the accessories again, and I’m not thinking about whether or not it’s on purpose that his fingers are touching mine because I’m not interested anyway.
I give him a friendship nod. ‘Goodnight, Luke. Merry Christmas Eve.’
‘Nigh-night, Cali.’ He holds open the door and I head the few steps back to my own compartment and don’t give a passing thought to the way he used to say that before we fell asleep beside each other.
Chapter 25
Ember
I spent the whole afternoon listening to Christmas music, to the point where I was genuinely sad to say farewell to Gwen and her ukulele when we reached Edmonton. But the music has soaked into my soul, and I’m drawn to the celestial carriage this Christmas Eve night. I can tell myself it’s because I’m not sleepy. Because I want to be under the stars. That I need some quiet time to think about what I’ll say to Bryn. But the quickening of my heart is proof to my head that it’s because I’m hoping she’ll be there.
I ascend the stairs, listening for a certain voice among the hum of gentle chatter I can hear. When I reach the top, I see that three seats are taken, under the canopy of stars which gives the illusion of being in a planetarium, the way we move forward underneath them.
In one seat is a couple, sitting close, whispering in the darkness. In another is a man on his own, an SLR camera angled to the heavens, resting against the glass while he’s mesmerised by the view. And in the other seat, turning to see me just as I see her, again, is Alex.
She smiles, a light in the dark, and doesn’t say a word until I make my way over to her, at which point she slides along the seat, making room for me. I sit, our arms lightly pressed together, and smile back at her.
‘I was hoping you’d come up,’ she says.
‘I was hoping you’d be up here,’ I reply, and the two of us chuckle. ‘How was your day?’
‘It was good,’ Alex replies, sinking into the seat and resting her head against the backrest, just like she did that first night. I do the same, my arm sliding down against hers as I go. ‘I had a little admin I needed to get out of the way before the year ends, and I didn’t want to do it on Christmas Day, or once I’m with my family in Vancouver.’
‘Do you and your family have big plans while you’re there?’
‘Yeah. It’s always busy when we all get together.’
‘All?’
‘I have a sister, and my aunt and uncle and ten billion cousins will all be there. And three dogs and a cat. It’ll be chaos, but in a good way.’
I lean in, studying her as she talks about her family, feeling the warmth in her voice radiate into the carriage. I want to hear everything about them, it’s like my heart aches to be enveloped in that world, to hear tales of her mum making her a hot chocolate, her dad chopping firewood, her cousins bickering and her sister stealing her lipstick. I realise this is a strangely stereotypical family I’ve created in my mind for her, but before I get to find out the real story, she asks me, ‘How about you? I know your parents passed, so tell me what your chosen family is like?’
I look back up at the stars (maybe at my parents?) and think of how to put this. ‘Well, I’m lucky to have some really close friends. They’ve helped me through a lot, and it feels real. If that makes sense?’
In the darkness, Alex nods. ‘Of course it does.’
‘But yet, here I am, at Christmastime, away in some fantasy land,’ I muse, a wry smile on my lips. ‘Do you think I’m making a huge mistake?’
Alex looks down, her hair falling from behind her ear, adding a dark streak across her face.
‘You can tell me,’ I press.
‘I think only you can answer that,’ she says after a while. ‘I think you should do what feels . . . real . . . to use your word.’
I hope she’s not feeling bad about talking about her parents. I give her a small nudge, leaving my shoulder that little bit closer to her. ‘I like hearing about your family, honestly, it’s nice.’
She tucks her hair back behind her ear, and speaks softly, that little scratch in her voice still audible. ‘I’m glad you have a great group of friends. I bet your folks would have been pleased about that too.’
