Page 54 of The Christmas Express
‘Thanks,’ she jokes.
I laugh with her, glancing over. She’s wearing her hair in a side plait, with a maroon woollen hat on her head. Tying off the end of her braid is a hairband wrapped in red tinsel, gifted from Cali, who seems to have made one for everyone (although I spotted Luke breaking his tinsel pocket-square in half and tying part of it on her wrist earlier, like they were one short). We’re like a cute little gang of tourists who are all wearing something so if we get lost people know which group we’re with.
Actually, maybe that’s exactly what we are.
I’d happily get lost here, though. ‘I wish I had more time here. Now I’m off the train I just want to head out, camp by a lake, hike to a waterfall . . .’ I trail off.
‘Camp in the snow?’ she asks, amused, as we pass a gigantic snow drift outside a shop, nearly as tall as me.
‘Well, maybe a nice little cabin, with heating.’
‘The waterfalls will all be frozen, also.’
‘No way! That sounds even cooler, actually,’ I marvel, and she grins, seeming pleased by my enthusiasm. She points out a group of teenagers filming themselves throwing warm water up into the air and it turning into snow before their eyes. This place is magical.
Alex stops our group as we pass the Swiss cabin-like frontage of a hotel. ‘You know what? I have an idea of how we could spend our time here in Jasper this morning, if you want?’
‘You’re the local.’ Cali shrugs, good-naturedly. ‘In Canada terms.’
‘As long as we can stretch our legs, it’s good with me,’ says Sara, and I couldn’t agree more.
Alex’s smile widens, and she nods, looking between the group. ‘Alright. One moment.’
She disappears into the hotel, the red tinsel in her hair catching the lights of the entranceway.
While we wait, there’s a quiet contentment among us. We look into the nearby shop windows that will stay closed today due to the holidays, we photograph pretty snow piled in smooth clumps upon rooftops, we point out sparkling Christmas lights on the facades of the wood-fronted buildings. Nobody is arguing, nobody is talking about arguing, everything is Christmas Day-fine. Flipping cold, but fine.
Alex emerges and I warm up from within. She’s swinging a set of car keys from her gloved fingers, and beckons us over to one of the parked-up hotel shuttle buses.
‘Another vehicle?’ Joss moans, because if someone’s going to she might as well be the one to take one for the team.
‘Trust me. It’s no more than a twenty-five-minute journey each way, and we’ll have over an hour to do one of the best hikes you’ll ever do.’
Cali’s nose crumples, giving her away, but she adds a peppy upwards infliction when she echoes, ‘A hike!’ to mask her true feelings.
I, for one, love this idea. I love it! As we follow Alex to the van, I catch her arm and ask, ‘Are you driving us? How did you get this van?’
‘I have a friend who works here.’ She looks at me sideways, a grin on her face, eye contact that feels very just for me. ‘She’s letting us borrow it for the morning. The hotel don’t offer excursions on Christmas Day.’
We climb into the van, me sitting up front with Alex, and I try to focus on the scenery but she keeps pulling my attention as she changes gears, flicks her fingers over the indicators.
The dawn light changes to pastel tones of baby pinks and blues, the last of the stars fading for now as the drive takes us out of town and along the valley between the mountains, following the Icefields Parkway road as it winds alongside the spearmint-toned Athabasca River, which we catch glimpses of between the pine trees.
In no time at all, we turn off and Alex parks up, and we all scramble our heavily bundled-up bodies out of the van and into the even chillier mountain air, our boots crunching on the untouched snow under our feet.
‘Athabasca Falls,’ I read from a brown sign at the start of a trailhead. ‘We’re going to see waterfalls?’
‘We’re going to see frozen waterfalls,’ she replies, and I shriek in delight. I can’t tell you why this makes me so giddy, but it just does. I guess it’s something about water, nature, clean air, new things to see, a cute girl . . .
The others seem pumped too, though it could be that they’re just desperate to get some blood flowing and warm up, so we get going almost immediately. I snap photos along the way to shower my friends back home with in our WhatsApp group, and chit-chat with Alex along the way.
Then Sara says, ‘God, if Bryn’s wedding venue is as pretty as this it’s going to be perfection.’ Her head snaps around to me and she adds, ‘Sorry. I mean, I just didn’t mean to rub your face in it.’
‘No, it’s fine, you can talk about her wedding, of course.’
We keep walking, our footsteps creaking on the snow, and Alex pulls my sleeve so we’re a few steps back from the others. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, of course,’ I tell her. ‘They’re here for Bryn’s wedding, I don’t expect them to pretend it’s not happening. Especially for my sake.’ I frown and kick at the fine snow, which powders over my boot and into my sock. Damn. ‘Do you . . .’
