Page 8 of The Christmas Express
‘Absolutely not.’
I’m facing off against Tonia and my other friends, who have barricaded themselves in my home while I’m trying to pack.
‘Yes, I am,’ I tell her.
‘Nope. This is the worst idea you’ve ever had.’
Over by my Christmas tree, which is now practically bare because in the space of three weeks it’s dropped all but about three needles, Kim pipes up. ‘You should definitely, definitely just phone her if you need to know how she feels.’
I put an extra sweatshirt in my backpack with a huff. ‘I need to see her. She needs to see me. This isn’t something you do over the phone.’
‘Yes, it is! This isn’t one of your old movies; you don’t fly across the globe to try and see your ex before they get married. It’s not giving romance, it’s giving creepy as hell.’
‘Plus, nobody likes surprise visitors,’ adds Kim.
I wave my hands around at them: my surprise visitors.
‘This is just the birthday blues talking,’ says Tonia, trying to remove things from my case without me noticing.
I snatch back my washbag. ‘No, it isn’t. It’s my gut.’
‘It’s your gut that took you away from Bryn in the first place, babe. You wanted different things. And that’s okay. She’s happy now, and so are you.’
I shake my head. She didn’t know me when I was with Bryn, and we were so good together. I’ve not been able to replace her, I’ve not even wanted to, or maybe I’ve not even tried. And this is romantic. All of December, Bryn’s been sending me signs that she’s been thinking about us, and our relationship. I can’t spend my life wondering, what if? Because, what if she’s the one, my person, my love and I just ignored it? I can’t do that.
‘Look, I’m going to go now so that I arrive a few days before the wedding. Then I’ll see her, if it goes well have Christmas together, if it doesn’t, I’ll find somewhere cosy and snowy to spend Christmas on my own.’
‘I don’t want you to be on your own,’ says Tonia.
‘I’m always on my own at Christmas,’ I remind her.
She holds my gaze for a second, softening. ‘That’s not true. You might not be spending Christmas with your mum and dad any more, or a girlfriend, but we’re your home at Christmas nowadays.’
She’s right, in a way, they all are. I’m lucky to have them. After Bryn and I split up, I wandered around London feeling totally isolated for a few weeks, her friends – who I thought had become my friends too – having cut all ties with me. Eventually I gave up and got on with my life, with the whole reason she and I broke up in the first place, because I wanted to get out of the city and move closer to the ocean. A few months later, both of my parents passed away within weeks of each other, and I didn’t hear from any of them, except for condolences from Bryn after I let her know (she’d known them well, after all).
But this group has enveloped me ever since. I know that anytime I’m having a hard day, they’ll be there. If I’ve had a good day, I want to tell them about it.
Tonia continues, her voice calm, like you’d speak to a puppy you didn’t want going berserk at an incoming parcel deliverer. ‘How are you going to feel if she tells you to leave?’
I swallow. ‘Maybe it’ll let me move on, forget about her.’
‘This marriage stuff has just thrown you, that’s all; I think you have moved on.’
‘I know you do.’ I wrap my arms around Tonia’s neck and hold her close for a moment. ‘But . . .’
‘But I’m not you?’ she finishes.
‘I’ve got to try for that Hollywood ending.’ I smile, and buckle my bag closed.
Chapter 5
Cali
Jeeeeeeez. My heart is thudding so loudly I can hear it even over the screech of the London Tube as it comes to a stop at Heathrow Airport. I’ve not been able to eat a thing all morning, and my mouth is dry, my eyes wide as I dart my gaze from face to face while I exit the carriage and follow the crowd towards the terminal. Any second now I could see one of them again. I’ll recognise them all, surely? None of them are likely to have changed that much. Of course I’ll recognise them all. Silly me. I could pick them out in the distance from any of their walks or postures alone.
I totter through the airport, my big mauve suitcase full of heavy coats and long-sleeved formal wear, dragging its wheels behind me. I am doing a good impression of a normal person, just a single gal on a solo expedition. Chin held high, eyes focused on the airline check-in desks in the distance. Nobody will guess that under this chic exterior I’m hyper-alert to the potential of hearing Joss’s loud, hiccupy laugh, of Joe’s squeak-squeak-squeak of that one trainer of his, of catching sight of Sara’s bum-length curls among the greys of the terminal, vibrant in whatever vivid colour she’s dying them these days. Of smelling Luke’s aftershave – the smoky vanilla one that he didn’t even used to realise was his signature scent but that made me wobbly-kneed when he’d walk into a room and cross straight over to greet me with a hug.
I join the queue to check my bag for the first flight to Toronto. Even though Bryn’s wedding is in Vancouver, when she sent through our ticket info she said she’d have a surprise for us waiting in Toronto Airport for the second leg of the journey. I don’t know what the surprise is, but I’m guessing either she’s meeting us there, or has maybe upgraded us on our onward flight or something.
