The flight had been delayed by two hours and while everyone had groaned and grumbled and stalked the departure gates restlessly, the delay had given Esme time to get to know her new travel companions better. She discovered that Hortense had never felt the need to marry and now raised chickens and sometimes sculpted, and Esme found herself rather envying her bohemian lifestyle. Brian was an ex-headmaster at an inner-city comprehensive school whose wife had left him shortly before his retirement saying he was just too boring to spend her twilight years with and, since then, just to prove her wrong, he’d made every effort to be as far away from boring as it was possible to be. He sent her photos from each new adventure, just to make a point that he was having way more fun than she was. Esme liked Brian a lot, and she thought that his wife probably hadn’t given him much of a chance to show her that life beyond retirement could be very different from a life that must have been characterised by long hours at work in a demanding job.

Zach, for all his apparent open friendliness, was harder to read. He volunteered very little personal information, other than providing funny anecdotes about various theatre productions he’d worked on, like the time one of his actors had got stuck in a lift and when the curtain opened, the only person who knew the missing thespian’s lines and was available was Zach himself; an accidental debut that proved to be Zach’s one and only terrifying foray into the world of acting – at least on stage rather than behind it. He briefly told them how he’d got into that world in the first place, as someone who hadn’t really been interested in theatre at all but had been captivated during a summer break from college working with a lighting manager at his local rep, something a friend at the time had fixed him up with because he was struggling to find a part-time job and the theatre had been struggling to get someone who knew about electrics and would work for tea and biscuits. Zach, rather fortuitously, knew some basics about electrics because as a teenager his dad had taken him on as an assistant when he’d rewired their house, and the rest was, as the saying went, history. Zach had always planned on training to be a vet, but he’d had such a good time at the theatre that summer that the course of his future career had changed from that moment on. His parents had been horrified that he was turning away from a job that would pay handsomely to one where he’d be scraping to buy milk and bread most weeks, but then they’d seen how happy he was and how he was managing to make good-enough money, and eventually they’d come round.

He was content to tell his new companions all of this, but Esme got the impression there was so much more he was holding back, and that what he wasn’t saying about his life was something so huge and painful that he simply couldn’t say it, a hole that would swallow him if he dared to peer into it. Relationships past and present were barely touched upon, nor did he mention his current marital status, and while nobody was under any obligation to share such things, Brian and Hortense had both been happy to tell all. Esme didn’t mind because she wasn’t ready to share her personal information either, except for the part where her grandma had died before she’d had a chance to travel to Lapland with her as they’d intended, at which point Brian looked as if the information he’d just been given was a live hand grenade, Hortense rubbed Esme’s back violently and Zach regarded her quietly with a look of such profound compassion and empathy that Esme wondered if something similar had happened to him too. It made Esme uncomfortable to be the focus of so much attention and she was glad when Hortense turned the conversation to how much she was hoping to take a trip out to visit a native Sami tribe to watch them hack a reindeer to death.

‘It’s only natural,’ she concluded emphatically. ‘After all, it’s what our ancestors did. And they use every bit of the creature – nothing is wasted. It’s a marvel really.’

‘But now we have Sainsbury’s for that sort of thing,’ Brian said firmly.

‘I’m with Brian,’ Zach said. ‘I might give the reindeer dismemberment a miss, if it’s all the same to you.’

Esme simply smiled. Maybe a week with these people wouldn’t be so bad. If she really tried hard, she even imagined she might be able to put Warren out of her mind for some of it, though she was certain he’d be doing his furious best to remind her of his existence at every opportunity. As if to labour the point, her phone pinged and she briefly checked it to see his name on the screen.

God, how she hated that bloody gym. She might have felt guilty about it, but there was a secret, slightly perverse pleasure in the idea that instead of going to a gym she hated and being bored out of her tree, she was about to get on a flight for the trip of a lifetime.

Eventually they’d been allowed to board the plane, where Esme had been separated from her new friends for a time due to their different seat allocations. She’d sat down, suddenly hit by an overwhelming sadness at the empty seat next to her. Sometimes she still couldn’t quite take in that her grandma had gone, and it would take something like an empty seat to bring it all back with a force that knocked her flat. But she rallied now and reminded herself of why she’d chosen to come on this trip even though Matilda could not and she’d do her darndest to make the most of her grandma’s last gift, if only to honour her memory.

The flight had been thankfully uneventful, and it was followed by a journey to their accommodation which took them through tiny snowbound villages of coloured wood and mellow lamplight that looked like clockwork toys trapped in snow globes, and mile upon mile of forests of majestic iced firs, stark against the blinding whiteness of the landscape in the low Arctic sun. Daylight here was a strange sort of dimness that was lit by the halo of the sun clinging to the horizon, saffron and magenta and lilacs bleeding into the indigo of the sky, and Esme realised that what she was looking at was something she’d read about before she’d come – the polar twilight. She recalled what she’d gleaned of the phenomenon now and that she hadn’t really given it a lot of thought at the time, assuming that polar twilight just meant perpetual night. She never imagined it could look so beautiful. Occasionally they saw roaming deer weaving in and out of the shadows of the trees and birds swooping down from the kaleidoscope of the sky and even a pair of wolves peering at the bus from the safety of the forest edge. With every new and wondrous sight came the same thought – Matilda would have loved this.

Once, Esme turned to glance at Zach, who sat across the aisle of the bus next to Brian, and at once she knew the look on his face, because it said the same thing she knew hers did – he was thinking of someone dear too, wondering what they would have made of this magical place. He caught her eye, and quickly they both turned back to their windows, the place where both their thoughts were private.

An hour later the bus stopped outside their hotel. Esme’s tummy flipped as she climbed down the steps and stood outside waiting for her suitcases. Her grandma had made a good call when she’d chosen this one – it was so perfectly traditional in every way. It was a sturdy wooden building with huge windows ranged along the outside walls to make the most of the spectacular polar sunsets, the main roof ascending into a tower with a clock embedded into it and a multitude of fairy lights strung from the eaves. It looked like something from Toy Town in the Noddy books that Matilda used to read to Esme when she was little and she half expected Martha Monkey to somersault out of the entrance and into her arms.

After a quick run-through of her passenger list, the tour representative led them all inside to get checked in with promises of mulled wine and hot food just as soon as they were settled.

‘Isn’t it marvellous?’ Hortense said, grabbing Esme’s hand to steady herself on the snow.

‘It’s lovely.’ Esme smiled. ‘I can’t wait to get inside and get warmed up – I don’t think I put enough layers on this morning.’

‘One simply can’t imagine how cold it could be,’ Hortense agreed with a sage nod. ‘We think it gets cold at home but this is something else.’

‘I have a scarf here…’ Zach interrupted from behind them. ‘If it helps.’

Esme turned with a grateful smile. ‘That’s sweet of you but then you’d be cold.’

‘I would, but I’d also feel very chivalrous about it.’

‘And there’s not much chivalry these days,’ Hortense said. She turned to Esme. ‘I wouldn’t sniff at the offer if I were you.’

‘I’m sure we’ll be inside in no time,’ Esme said. ‘I can manage for a few minutes longer. But thank you anyway.’

‘Lovely manners,’ Hortense whispered. At least she probably thought it was a whisper, but Esme imagined that more or less everyone, including Zach, would have heard it. If he did, he showed no sign. Hortense was right, though, he did have lovely manners. She liked Zach very much already.

---

Esme was in her room now, unpacking and freshening up before heading down to dinner in the restaurant. She’d so far ignored three texts and another five calls from Warren, too tired and too worried to answer them. By now he would have found her note – presuming he’d gone straight home – and it wasn’t like anything he’d have to say would be a shock. If she was honest, assuming that he now knew where she was, Esme was surprised his bombardment hadn’t been more aggressive. Maybe that would come later. But now her phone screen lit up and her mother’s number appeared. Esme snatched it from the bed and took the call.

‘Esme! Are you alright?’

‘Mum… what are you phoning for?’

‘What do you mean, what am I phoning for? I’m phoning to ask what on earth’s going on!’

‘I didn’t mean it like that; I meant I didn’t expect to hear from you.’

‘I can’t phone my daughter now?’

‘That’s not what I meant either.’ Esme let out a sigh. ‘You don’t sound happy. What’s wrong?’

‘That’s what I’m trying to ask you.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with me.’

There was a pause. Then: ‘Where are you?’

‘Lapland.’

‘Lapland?’ her mother repeated in disbelief.

‘On Grandma’s trip. I said I might go.’

‘Well, yes, I know, but I thought you’d changed your mind.’

‘I know but I changed it again. Grandma went to a lot of trouble to book the trip and it didn’t seem right to let it go to waste.’

‘So who’s with you?’

‘Nobody.’

‘So what did you do with Matilda’s ticket?’

‘Nothing.’

‘What do you mean, nothing? You’re all alone there? You haven’t taken an old friend or anything?’

‘No, no old friends. There’s not really anyone I feel close enough to anymore, not since… Well, you know. But not exactly alone, either. There are other people on the tour with me but I’m alone in the room – nobody’s staying with me.’

‘So you’re alright. Quite well… You haven’t run off with some mystery lover?’

Esme wanted to laugh, but she swallowed it back. ‘Who on earth would I run off with?’

‘It’s just… your boyfriend called us a moment ago…’

She said boyfriend as if the word might choke her.

‘Oh,’ Esme replied, her tone carefully neutral though her heart was thumping now. ‘And what did he say?’

‘That you’d either had a breakdown or you’d run off with a man but either way we needed to call you to find out what was happening and persuade you to come back because you wouldn’t answer his calls for him to do it.’

‘There’s no breakdown.’

‘I guessed as much. He can be quite… dramatic, can’t he? Or is it all part of the show, the way he manipulates everyone so he gets his way?’

Esme ignored the comment. Whether he was or wasn’t, getting into a conversation about Warren’s perceived faults wasn’t going to help her right now. Her mum wasn’t about to let it drop that easily, though.

‘Esme… have you left him?’

‘For a week, yes.’

‘Don’t you think the fact that you’re away now says something about the state of your relationship?’

‘It might. I’m still working all that out.’

‘There’s a chance you might not feel quite the same as you did?’

‘I suppose it would make life easier and calmer for us, wouldn’t it?’

‘That’s not the reason I’m asking. You always think this is about me not liking him, but it’s about knowing you’re happy with someone who’s stable and good for you.’

‘I know. Right now I’m concentrating on this week. I think it will be good for me – clear my head.’

‘I think so too.’

‘Right. So you’re not phoning to persuade me to come back?’

‘No. I just wanted to make sure you’re OK. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t actually having a breakdown?’

‘No, I’m not – not last time I checked.’

‘And you’re not with another man?’

‘No.’

‘Ah well… we can live in hope.’

Esme broke into a smile. ‘I’m surprised you gave Warren the time of day so he could tell you all this.’

‘What else could I do? He was livid, screaming like a lunatic, telling all sorts of tales. I had to find out for myself if any of it was true – your dad and I were worried sick.’

‘You needn’t have been. I’m OK. I’ll have a nice little holiday and then I’ll come back.’

‘And then what? You can say it, you know.’

‘I can’t say it because I don’t know. I suppose it will be back to normal life.’

‘In London?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe.’

‘With him?’

Esme paused. She wanted to make her own decisions in her own time and being here, away from everything, would help her to do that. She didn’t know how she felt about Warren anymore; she only knew that she couldn’t allow anyone else to influence her as she made up her mind.

‘I think I’ll have to at first,’ she said finally.

‘You have doubts?’ her mother asked, her voice sharp and shrewd. ‘Please, Esme, talk to me. You don’t have to go through everything alone.’

‘I can’t right now, Mum, I’m sorry.’

‘Could you talk to Dad if not me?’

Esme shook her head.

‘Darling?’

‘Sorry, Mum, but no. However, I do like that we’re at darling again rather than pain in the neck.’

‘You were never that, Esme. We simply couldn’t stand to see you throw your life away on that man.’

‘He’s not that bad.’

‘Darling, he almost committed bigamy with you.’

‘He hasn’t murdered anyone.’

‘It’s still against the law.’

‘It’s hardly the same.’

‘No, but he’s cunning and manipulative and I only wish you could see it all how we do. He’s no good for you.’

Esme squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Can we not talk about it now?’

‘When are we going to talk about it?’

‘Not now. I’m tired and I need to get ready for dinner.’

‘Right… so you’re on Matilda’s trip after all? That’s lovely. I’m glad you went.’

‘Yes,’ Esme replied, glad her mother had seen fit not to press the argument. ‘I decided… Did you know that Grandma almost came here the year Granddad died? He’d booked it for her Christmas present – I found the tickets behind their wedding photo, stuffed into the frame.’

‘I had no idea! I don’t think your dad knew either. How strange. Did Matilda know? Because she never said a word to me or your dad.’

‘I don’t think she did, because we talked about coming here before she died and I brought up the times she’d asked Granddad to bring her and she never said a dicky bird about any tickets or a trip she’d never made.’

‘What a terrible shame.’

‘It is. So I thought it seemed right to come. Sort of for her, you know? Because she never got to.’

‘I’m glad you did and I know your dad will be too. Esme, I realise that I haven’t exactly been kind over the past few weeks – and indeed months and years – but unkind words were said with kind intentions. You do see that, don’t you?’

‘I do. So what are you going to tell Warren now you’ve spoken to me?’

‘Nothing. You’re going to have a lovely time and he’ll have to mind his own business.’

‘What if he calls you again?’

‘Then I shan’t pick up. How’s that?’

‘Perfect.’ Esme gave a half-smile. While she could understand why Warren had gone to her parents (although she was a little surprised he’d had the nerve) she was annoyed that he’d dragged them into the situation. What was more, if he’d agreed to come to Lapland with her when she’d asked him he wouldn’t have needed to worry about where she was or who she was with because it would have been with him.

There was a brisk knock at the door.

‘Is someone with you?’ her mum asked. ‘I thought you were alone.’

‘I think there’s about to be.’ Esme went to the spyhole in her door to see Hortense in the hall looking resplendent in something that might have resembled the national dress of some obscure Eastern European state. ‘I met these people… other solo travellers.’ She lowered her voice. ‘One of them is an older lady and she’s sort of taken me under her wing…’

‘They’re nice?’

‘Very.’

‘And you’re happy? You feel safe?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Then I’m glad. Phone me every day, won’t you? Just so I know everything is alright.’

‘I will.’

‘Good, speak to you soon then.’

‘Bye… Mum…’

‘Yes?’

‘Before you go…’

‘What is it?’

‘I love you.’

Esme could hear the smile in her mother’s voice. ‘I love you too – and I’m glad to be able to say that again.’

As she ended the call Esme wiped away a lone tear. At least this was a good tear, because there hadn’t been many of those lately. Taking a deep breath and a moment to straighten her sweater, she fixed a smile to her face and went to meet Hortense for dinner.

---

The dining room was mostly constructed of soft wood, like most of the hotel and in keeping with much of the area’s architecture. It was fragrant and cosy and dominated by large but slowly dripping ice sculptures depicting Santa and his reindeer. Waiting staff scuttled from table to table in smart black and white, while a band in the corner played what Esme presumed to be traditional Finnish songs on traditional Finnish instruments, and although it sounded slightly odd, there was a pleasing quality about it that added to the ambience of the room.

Everyone on their trip had been invited by the tour company to the welcome dinner and along with Esme, Zach, Brian and Hortense – who had a table of their own – there were perhaps two dozen others from their party sharing the feast. The choice of food on offer was dizzying – there was a wealth of traditional Finnish fare including sautéed reindeer with mashed potatoes and lingonberry jam (though it felt rather too much like eating one of Santa’s helpers, especially with the ice versions looking mournfully in her direction every time Esme raised her head and so she gave this a miss), elk and black grouse and, of course, an array of fish dishes including salmon soup (Esme being reliably informed by a waitress that this was a particular local favourite). There was food to cater for faddy English tastes too, all of it whirling to and from the tables in a list of courses that Esme could barely keep count of. At Zach’s persuasion Esme tried some of the local specialities but she was pretty sure the majority of them had been chosen as a culinary adventure for the holidaymakers because if she was forced to eat most of these dishes for any length of time she was sure she’d have no problem keeping the weight off.

‘This fermented whatever it is certainly clears the system, doesn’t it?’ Hortense announced, chomping happily on a large mouthful of something that was a lurid green.

Brian grimaced while Zach looked vaguely alarmed, and Esme didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or gag.

‘Hold on!’ Brian reached for his iPad from the table and unlocked it. ‘Squish in… that’s it…’

He took a selfie, including Zach, Esme and Hortense and typed for a moment. Esme heard a whoosh and then he locked it again before setting it down to resume his meal.

‘Another for the ex-wife?’ Zach reached for his wine with a wry smile.

‘You’ve got me already,’ Brian said cheerily. ‘I might even be persuaded to tell a few white lies – really get her going.’

‘Tell her Esme’s your holiday romance,’ Zach said with a grin.

‘My dear boy,’ Hortense cut in through another mouthful of the unidentifiable lurid green fermented thing she was eating, ‘nobody would believe that such a pretty young thing would be going out with an old chap like Brian.’

Brian looked sharply at her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? A man can take offence, you know. I know I’m not exactly Burt Reynolds but I don’t have one foot in the grave just yet.’

Esme looked up from her plate. ‘Burt who?’

Hortense almost choked on her food. ‘Oh Lord! She’s too young to know who Burt Reynolds is and now I feel older than Methuselah himself!’

‘Oh, it’s me,’ Esme said, deciding quickly against asking who Methuselah was too. ‘I’m as dim as they come – never know who anyone famous is.’

‘That doesn’t make you dim,’ Zach said. ‘Just selective about what information you retain.’

‘I don’t retain any at all – that’s the problem. Thick as… well, thick.’

Hortense clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. ‘Nonsense!’

‘Don’t be daft!’ Brian said. ‘I can’t tell you how many kids have passed through my school over the years and not a one of them that said they were thick actually were. Just because you don’t know everything doesn’t make you thick. Half these so-called boffins haven’t got an ounce of common sense in their heads anyway.’

‘Well, they must have some,’ Hortense cut in. ‘Otherwise they wouldn’t be boffins.’

‘Academic learning doesn’t need common sense,’ Brian insisted.

‘I think you’ll find it does,’ Hortense replied airily.

‘How’s that then?’ Brian asked.

‘How is it not true?’ Hortense countered. ‘Please provide evidence for such an assertion.’

‘I haven’t got any bloody evidence,’ Brian said irritably. ‘How the bloody hell would I have evidence? It’s what I’ve seen with my own eyes. I’m the one who’s worked in education all my adult life.’

‘I feel education per se would be very different from scientific research.’

‘Who mentioned scientific research?’

‘You did. You referred to boffins.’

Perhaps sensing a new heated debate between the two, Zach stepped in.

‘All we’re saying, Esme, is that you don’t need to know who Burt Reynolds is to be intelligent.’

Their argument temporarily forgotten, Hortense and Brian made noises of agreement. But Esme knew they were just being kind because Warren was always having to explain things a dozen times, and she was always forgetting things he was supposed to have told her and it drove him mad. She gave a small, grateful smile. It was nice that they wanted to be nice to her. She liked this – sitting here with her three new friends. She barely knew them but already she felt easy in their company. But then the phone buzzed in her bag and her hand twitched to reach and pull it out. She resisted, knowing who it was likely to be and what the message was likely to say and not wanting to sour the mood at the table that was currently making her so happy. Instead she listened – at least she tried to – as Brian told an elaborate anecdote from his teaching days, though the persistent pinging of her phone as a new onslaught began kept distracting her.

Then she became aware of Zach studying her in silence. She turned to him.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

‘Me?’ Esme flushed. She looked across the table with a vague sense of panic that the others might have noticed her distraction too. But while she’d zoned out Hortense and Brian had embarked on a deep conversation of their own. ‘Of course,’ she added, forcing a smile.

‘You’re tired? It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?’

Esme was about to reply when her phone pinged again and somehow this one seemed louder than all the others, as if Warren’s frustration was racing, silent and angry and invisible, across continents to reach her. Zach frowned.

‘Is that your phone?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Are you sure? It doesn’t sound like mine. Brian’s is on the table and I don’t think Hortense has one.’

‘I expect it’s something and nothing. It will wait.’

‘You don’t want to check? None of my business, of course, but someone really wants your attention by the sound of things – it’s been going off all night.’

Esme took her phone out and switched the sound off. ‘Oh, it’s a silly notification. I get a lot of them.’

Zach studied her in silence again. Then he nodded.

‘It’s pretty late,’ Esme added, her desire for company evaporating. ‘Maybe I’ll skip dessert and head to my room.’

‘It’s not something I said, is it? I didn’t mean to be nosy about your phone, I only meant—’

‘It’s not that – you’re right; it’s been a long day.’

‘I understand. It’s a shame, though; we’ll miss you being here.’

Esme flushed again. They’d miss her? Would they really? It was such a throwaway comment but it brought a strange kind of pleasure. ‘I expect you’ll see more than enough of me over the next few days. So much you’ll soon be sick of me.’

‘I already know that couldn’t happen.’ He gave one of his easy smiles that already she recognised and almost craved. When he smiled that way, it was like golden hour, like the sun rising and filling the room with light. It made her feel…

She pushed the feeling down, way down, out of harm’s way.

‘So… I’ll be off,’ she said. ‘Goodnight.’

‘See you tomorrow, I hope. I’m looking forward to our first day in Rovaniemi.’

Esme smiled. ‘Me too.’ Her chair scraped the floor as she pushed it from the table and now Hortense and Brian looked up from their conversation, which had been turning into lively debate again. But Zach would have to referee this time, because Esme was exhausted.

‘I’m sorry but I’m going to excuse myself,’ she said in answer to their questioning looks. ‘Long day and all that.’

‘My dear girl, no need to explain,’ Hortense said. ‘Early start tomorrow too. Have you booked onto the snowmobile safari?’

‘Against my better judgement,’ she said with a laugh. ‘I’m sure I’ll end up head first in a snowdrift as soon as we leave the compound.’

‘Not to worry!’ Hortense said briskly. ‘I never pass up the opportunity of a little adventure! We’ve come all this way after all, no point in spending every day sitting in the hotel!’

‘I can’t wait,’ Zach said. ‘And I for one am really glad you’re coming with us.’

Esme flushed and turned her attention to fiddling with the zip of her handbag so it wouldn’t show. Then she dared one more glance at Zach before tearing her gaze away and offering the table as a whole a final apology.

‘I expect I’ll see you all in the morning either way.’

Hortense pushed her own chair from the table and toddled round to give Esme a firm hug. ‘Now, do you need one of our gentlemen here to escort you to your room?’

Esme gave a grateful smile. ‘Unless I’m going to run into a polar bear on the landing I expect I’ll be alright.’

Hortense gave an emphatic nod. ‘Righto. Goodnight then, dear girl.’

‘Goodnight.’

Esme left the dining room and she could feel the eyes of the other three on her as she went. It was obvious they all wondered about her, that they guessed she was keeping parts of her life back in England secret. Even she wasn’t sure why – she only wished she could tell them. And she wanted to stay at the dinner table and get to know them all better but how could she, knowing what was happening at home right now?

In the lift she took out her phone and noted the five new messages to add to the ones Warren had sent earlier. She’d have to read them eventually, of course, but not now. Now she wanted to fall into bed and sleep and not think about any of that until the morning.