Fifteen
The bus was packed and they’d been forced to stand. Esme loved the way Zach reached to steady her with every jolt and slide with a gentle hand to her back or arm, and she had to keep reminding herself that there was nothing romantic in it, especially in light of what Inari had told her. But the bare honesty of earlier had turned to banter again. Zach’s box was still sealed tight shut, even if Esme had allowed him to peek into hers. Her own openness had shocked her more than anything – how comfortable and easy she suddenly felt with him now that the angst of repressed sexual tension could be put to one side. At least, the sexual tension she’d clearly imagined because she’d got that situation a whole heap wrong and then some.
Darkness fell quickly, like a cloak thrown over the town as they travelled. It was so hard to get used to the idea that the sun set almost as soon as it had risen here. It should have been a depressing thought, but it wasn’t – it just made everything about this place even more magical.
Zach nudged her. ‘We’ve just crossed into the Arctic Circle.’
‘Seriously?’
‘You’re at the North Pole. How does that feel?’
‘Weird. Unbelievable. Weird, unbelievable and cold.’
Zach laughed. ‘We’ll save that review for TripAdvisor.’
Esme smiled. She liked that Zach found her silly, mixed up thoughts funny instead of annoying.
‘I feel as if there ought to be some ceremony,’ she said.
‘Crossing into the Arctic Circle. Like a special certificate or something.’
‘I think you can buy those.’
Esme blinked.
‘Honestly,’ he said, laughing. ‘I’m not joking. I think you can get them at Santa’s village. We’ll look for one if you like, so you can show the folks back home.’
‘I don’t think it would get them all that excited.’
‘No? I guess not all of them. Your boyfriend sounds like a real laugh a minute for a start,’ he said, and his smile had gone now.
‘I didn’t mean just Warren,’ she said.
‘Sorry, it’s just…’ He shook his head. ‘Ignore me – none of my business.’
‘You don’t need to apologise. He can be grumpy but it’s not his fault. He’s got a lot on his plate. Money troubles and everything.’
What she neglected to mention was the reason why Warren had money troubles. But if Zach didn’t think much of him now, the revelation that he’d been funding a double life, sharing a flat with both her and his wife Shelly in two separate locations would certainly not help Zach to change his mind. Not that it mattered what Zach thought of Warren, of course. Though, now that she thought about how it might sound if she said it out loud, she could see why Zach might not have approved. It did sound pretty bad. And, if she was honest, his opinion mattered. Not about Warren, but about Esme putting up with it. About how she’d forgiven the unforgivable even though everyone had told her she was crazy. It mattered what Zach thought about that, more than she cared to admit, even though she didn’t know why.
‘Looks like we’re here,’ he said.
Esme looked through the window to see a large complex of buildings buried in a thick blanket of snow and festooned with bright lights. There was a ripple of excitement along the whole bus as everyone else saw it too. Her morose thoughts gave way to a sudden sense of childlike wonder and anticipation.
‘Oh, it’s so cute!’
‘Isn’t it?’ Zach grinned, evidently gripped by the same giddiness too. ‘Wait till you get inside – it’s like every Christmas film you’ve ever seen times a thousand.’
The bus came to a halt and emptied and they were swept along with the throng to the gates of Santa’s village. Instinctively, she reached out her hand and, without looking, Zach caught it and held tight. It was funny how much braver he made her feel whenever he was there.
At the gates, Esme pulled back.
He turned to her. ‘What?’
‘I don’t want to go in,’ she said.
‘Seriously?’
‘I do, but I don’t want to go in yet. Once we’re in, all the anticipation is over and that’s the most exciting part.’ She gazed up at the gates, trying to drink in every detail, trying to capture the moment so time would never dull the memory. ‘I want to save this in my brain. I don’t ever want to forget it. And I want to remember my grandma because I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her.’
When she looked back at him, his smile had faded. He was staring up at the gates too, but there was no happiness in his eyes, no excitement now, only pain.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said hastily. ‘I suppose I’m being morbid.’
He shook his head. ‘No, you’re not. It’s just…’
He looked down and suddenly seemed to realise he had his hand wrapped around Esme’s. He let it go, and, somehow, in that instant, Esme felt the temperature around her drop.
‘Are you OK?’ she asked. ‘If you want to go back to the hotel…’
He smiled, but it seemed as if he’d forced it just for her. ‘I’m still feeling a bit ropey from all the drinking last night. You want to see Santa and I promised – I’ll be fine once we’re in there.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Positive. After what you’ve just told me do you really think I’m going to make you turn around and go back to the hotel?’ He began to walk. After a few paces he turned to her again, a shadow backlit by the lights of the village. ‘Are you ready now?’ he asked, his voice unexpectedly cheery once more, as if the moment had never happened.
Esme nodded. She didn’t know what to think but he seemed OK after all; perhaps she’d imagined his distress. ‘Ready,’ she said.
‘Right then – let’s go.’
The Christmas village really was a village. There was everything from gift shops to cafés, from the post office that sorted the mail sent to Santa from all over the world and from where you could send postcards back home, to the distribution depot that could dispatch gifts on your behalf to loved ones, right down to a workshop where Santa and his helpers were based. All of this was like no village Esme had ever seen, where it was hyper bright and colourful, cheerful and noisy and happy. There were probably a thousand, rather less happy scenarios behind the scenes – it was easy to forget in all the spectacle that the people smiling and nodding in Santa’s service were real people with real lives away from here, with all the pain and hardship that real lives sometimes suffered by. But every street corner featured a choir or a show, lights and tinsel, cheery music blasting through loud speakers. Merry Christmases were wished a hundred times a minute, and Esme wondered how people’s faces didn’t crack from smiling so hard.
They’d just finished what had to be the best hot chocolate Esme had ever tasted when Zach leaned back and studied her.
‘I suppose we ought to go find the main event.’
‘Santa?’
‘Well, he is the reason we came, isn’t he?’
‘And you’re sure you don’t mind? You don’t think it’s silly?’
‘Of course it’s silly. That’s part of the fun though. Whoever went to see Santa thinking it would be like taking a course in accountancy?’
Esme had to laugh. ‘You might have a point there. It’s just…’
‘We don’t have kids with us? I don’t know why you’re getting so hung up on what other people think. So we don’t have kids with us – we’ve as much right to see Santa as anyone else. We’ve come all this way for a reason.’
‘To see the Northern Lights,’ Esme reminded him.
‘Well, yes. But this is a pretty good perk on the side, right?’
‘I guess.’
‘Then stop second-guessing all the time and learn to live for the moment. You won’t see any of these people again after this week so who cares what they think?’
Esme smiled. He had a way of arguing things that made it difficult to argue back. Where had Zach been all her life when she’d needed a friend like this? Why couldn’t she have found him years ago?
He held out a hand and she took it, and it was as natural as breathing.
‘Come on,’ he said, pointing to an elaborate signpost. ‘It’s this way.’
Esme followed where he led, and even though there were signposts at every corner she still couldn’t help wondering how he found the way so easily. Then she recalled he’d been before, and then she fell to wondering who he’d been there with. He’d never told her, and because he’d never told her she was too scared to ask. Maybe not so much scared of his reaction but scared of reminding him, of turning his thoughts to something that might upset him. She liked Zach happy, and that was the way she wanted to keep him, especially now in this most happiest of places on earth. Maybe she’d ask him eventually and maybe he’d tell her, just not now.
‘I feel like I’m waiting to see a rock star or something,’ Esme whispered as they stood in the antechamber of Santa’s office. It wasn’t a grotto, like it was in department stores and shopping malls back home; it was known as Santa’s office, as if he ran the whole concern like a little business and Santa was the CEO. There was even a bank of desks, with elves busily working like secretaries, only they were filing Christmas lists into good children and not so good children, though Esme noticed that there was nothing in the basket for naughty children at all. Maybe this Santa was a fair and tolerant Santa who strived for rehabilitation with kindness rather than punishment and believed in the inherent goodness of all children. Or maybe Esme was just a nut for even looking into it that deeply. The idea of this made her giggle to herself, and Zach turned to her with a raised eyebrow.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘Nothing.’ Esme smiled up at him. ‘It’s just… all this. It’s funny.’
‘Good. That’s the general idea.’
‘I’m glad we came.’
‘Me too.’
He said it, but Esme wondered whether it was entirely true. His smile held that shadow of sadness again, the one she caught every so often.
He leaned in and lowered his voice to an amused whisper. ‘Are you going to ask for his autograph?’
‘Hey, don’t laugh – I might!’
‘I bet it wouldn’t be the first time he’s been asked.’
‘I’m going to get a selfie too.’
At this Zach leaned back and scanned the room. There were a handful of other people waiting in there with them, but the real queue stretched down the corridor beyond the office. ‘I think they make you buy an official photo with him.’
‘Oh, OK. Then you’re going to be on it too?’
‘Me? Why do you want me on it?’
‘So I can remember how much fun we’ve had here together.’
‘I’m sure your boyfriend will love that.’
‘Well,’ Esme said, feeling suddenly belligerent about it, ‘he doesn’t need to look if he doesn’t like it.’ Why did Zach have to keep bringing Warren up?
‘Remind me not to let you have my home address, just in case he feels the need to come after me.’
‘You’d have to go into witness protection if he thought you were a threat. Luckily, you don’t need to worry about that.’
‘He wouldn’t think I’m a threat? I don’t know how to feel about that.’
‘I’d feel relieved if I were you.’
‘You know,’ Zach said, a wry smile about his lips, ‘you’re painting this guy to be a real charmer. So he likes to beat people up in his spare time? I like him more and more the more you tell me.’
Esme laughed. She’d never thought of how ridiculous Warren’s jealous rages were before but now Zach had put it like that, they were ridiculous. Childish and petty and completely unnecessary. Perhaps there was an upside to Zach bringing him up in conversation. Perhaps an outsider’s view of things could make Esme see her relationship with Warren in a whole new way. She had to admit that it might not be a bad thing.
‘I think he’s insecure,’ she said, still defending him even though she knew it was a lame defence and even despite what she’d just thought.
‘I thought you said he was an Adonis.’
‘He is. But I suppose you can still get insecure, even if you’re good-looking.’
‘If you say so.’
‘That’s unfair. Even you must be able to see that.’
‘What do you mean – even me?’
‘Well, I don’t suppose you’ve ever felt insecure about yourself.’
‘How would you know?’
‘I don’t. I’m just guessing. On account of the fact that you’re quite handsome. If you like that sort of thing,’ she added quickly, blushing, even though she didn’t know why.
‘Wow, that is some compliment. Still, as you said, anyone can feel insecure for any number of reasons that are not always apparent to onlookers. You’re exhibit A.’
Esme prodded her own chest. ‘Me?’
‘Well, you’re not exactly Lurch’s ugly sister and yet I’ve never seen you at ease with the way you look. Or anything else about yourself for that matter. In fact, I find it frustrating that you don’t like yourself a little more.’
Esme’s mouth fell open. Was this a compliment, an insult or merely a life hack? What was he trying to say? More to the point, what gave him the right to say it?
‘Don’t look so shocked,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘I’m only saying that if you could see yourself how we all see you, you’d love what you saw. That’s all.’
‘I think that’s a compliment, then?’ she asked uncertainly.
‘Of course it is. Please take it as just that. I’m not expecting it to change anything for you overnight, but perhaps, from time to time, you might remember it and when you feel like being down on yourself, you might be a little kinder.’
‘Well, what sort of things do you mean? Give me specifics.’
‘I can’t, because that would make you focus on them and probably in a negative way.’
‘You can’t leave it like that! I need to know. How am I supposed to change if I don’t know what you want changing?’
He let out a sigh. ‘There you go – wanting to change to order. That’s exactly what I’m talking about. How about just being you, regardless of what you think anyone else might want. You’ll probably find that just you, exactly the way you are, is what they do want. Be you, warts and all. If they don’t like the warts, then ditch the people and not the warts. Find someone who does like the warts.’
‘Everybody has something about them that irritates somebody else.’
‘Precisely. So why bother trying to be all things to everyone? Why not just be you and roll with the punches? If they like you, great, if they don’t, let them go and find someone who suits them better.’
Esme was silent for a moment. ‘So,’ she said finally, ‘is this about Warren in particular?’
‘It’s about whatever or whoever you think it’s about. I think you already know all this – you just don’t want to see it.’
She fell to brooding again. Sometimes Zach could be funny, sometimes inexplicably morose and sometimes just plain annoying. But perhaps the annoying bit was only because, in her heart, she knew the truth of what he was saying but she wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
‘Anyway,’ he said. ‘Maybe this is not the time to discuss it.’
The need for a reply was saved by a cheery elf wearing long, blonde plaits who waved their group through. Esme had wanted to know more, and for a moment had almost wished they’d been sitting somewhere quiet and private in a little corner of the hotel bar. But now, the need was replaced by a sudden kick of excitement as they were ushered into Santa’s room and she was finally face-to-face with him.
‘Oh my God, he looks exactly like Santa!’ she squeaked, unable to contain herself.
Zach grinned and replied in a low voice behind his hand. ‘He is Santa, that’s why.’
Esme elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Yeah, of course.’
‘Don’t you believe me?’
‘Yes.’
‘No you don’t.’
‘No, but I’m happy to play along.’
His grin spread. ‘Now that’s what I’m talking about!’
Esme wasn’t sure what time Santa’s village closed – if it ever closed at all. But there seemed to be a steady flow of people coming away from it now, heading for the same bus stop as them. Zach was quiet as they waited for the bus back to the town centre. His mood had become steadily more subdued throughout the visit, and it worried and annoyed Esme in equal measure. She’d tried to ignore it, but she couldn’t. It had begun just as they’d started to talk to Santa, where she’d seen it visibly dip, and had become more and more noticeable as they’d progressed through the village. If only she could get to the root of things, find out what it was that set the melancholy off, maybe she could find a way to nip it in the bud before it took hold. She was quickly understanding that an unhappy Zach meant an unhappy Esme, his mood affecting her in ways she couldn’t understand herself.
‘I thought getting to see Santa Claus was supposed to be an uplifting and happy experience,’ she said.
‘It is.’
‘You don’t look happy.’
‘I am.’
She looked up at him. He certainly didn’t look like someone who was happy, or even just happy inside. Her gaze went to the warm glow of the buildings they’d left behind. She wasn’t getting any further with her current conversation, that much was obvious. ‘It’s cold again, isn’t it?’
‘We’re at the North Pole.’
‘I know, but it’s colder now the sun has gone down.’
‘I’m not sure the sun was warming much when it was up.’
‘I could do with one of your magic hugs.’
On autopilot, he pulled her into his arms but it wasn’t the same as before. He didn’t mean it, and she didn’t feel safe and content, she only felt tricked and confused and wondered where the Zach she liked had gone. She stared out from the folds of his perfunctory embrace, watching families stream out from the gates of the village with excited kids, and couples of all ages giggling, arms locked and kisses stolen as they relived their youth.
‘You came here before with someone you loved, didn’t you?’ she said. ‘Someone who meant a lot to you?’
She’d asked the question but somehow, though it had only just occurred to her, she already knew the answer. She waited.
‘I wonder what’s on the menu for dinner tonight?’ he said. ‘I don’t know about you but I’m getting hungry. I hope they’re serving early enough for us to get something before we catch our Northern Lights bus.’
Esme gave a noncommittal reply. Her mind was far from the dinner menu. Zach had been here before and being here again had made him sad. Why come then? Why offer to bring her? He must have known it would make him sad. But when they’d arrived he’d been full of good humour, even lecturing her on letting go and living a little. Whatever it was that could turn his mood on a dime, he wasn’t letting that go, and Esme wondered if it was stopping him from truly living.
She turned her eyes to the road and willed the bus to arrive. Whatever had made him sad made her sad too, and she wanted to be away from it so they could get proper Zach again, the one whose smile rivalled Santa’s city of lights and made everyone laugh and gave hugs to melt the iciest of hearts.
At 8 p.m. Esme was standing in the car park of their hotel. It was dark, the lights of the vast dining room windows throwing a warm glow across compacted snow and illuminating breath that rose on the icy air. It was bitterly cold, and Esme was almost tempted to head back inside to sit by the fire and drink warm cocoa. She gave herself a mental slap and asked herself what else she’d expected at what was a stone’s throw from the North Pole.
They’d returned from Santa’s village a couple of hours previously with a muted farewell. Zach had tried to be cheerful, and Esme had tried to be grateful for the day out, but things were somewhat more subdued than they had been when they’d started out that afternoon. Esme had skipped dinner and eaten an apple in her room after Zach had seen her to the door and then gone to find out what sort of state Niko had left his own room in. He hadn’t yet arrived back in the car park as they’d arranged, and given the mood she’d left him in, Esme wondered if he was even coming at all. She’d understood that it hadn’t been about her or directed at her, but somehow she still felt partially responsible. He’d been happy, and then she’d brought up his past when she’d vowed not to and ruined all that. She could be such an idiot.
Hortense and Brian were already there waiting for the tour bus.
‘Isn’t young Zachary with you?’ Hortense asked, extricating herself from Brian’s arms as she realised Esme was there. Brian looked suitably embarrassed as he straightened the shock of white hair peeking from beneath his hat, although, in truth, there was nothing on earth that could straighten that mop. More than once Esme had considered the fact that if someone stuck a convincing enough beard on Brian, he might make a pretty good double for Santa if the man himself fancied a day off. ‘As neither of you came down to dinner I’d assumed you’d spent the time together.’
‘Well, we had… I mean, not all of it. We went to Santa Claus Village but we didn’t stay together. He didn’t come down to dinner either?’
‘No. I thought perhaps you’d both decided to eat elsewhere.’
‘No.’
‘But he is supposed to be coming with us tonight?’ Brian asked.
Esme nodded. ‘Yes. I mean, that was the plan. But he went back to his room to see whether Niko was still there and I haven’t seen him since so maybe he’s changed his mind.’
‘What on earth would make him do that?’ Hortense asked. ‘He’d been absolutely set on seeing the Lights.’
‘That’s what he’d said to me,’ Brian agreed. ‘This was the number one activity on his list.’
Esme shrugged. She wondered whether to mention to them that Zach’s mood seemed a little… unstable. They might know something about it. But then, if they hadn’t noticed then perhaps it said more about her than it did about Zach. What if it was all in her head? What if she was just being paranoid and there was really nothing wrong at all apart from what she imagined? He’d already told her that she spent too long worrying about what other people thought of her. Perhaps she was doing just that – being hypersensitive to an issue that really wasn’t there. He could have been tired or still hung-over – a delayed reaction to his raucous night out – and she’d simply read too much into it. Quickly, she decided that she wouldn’t mention it and wait to see whether Brian or Hortense said anything first.
Brian jammed his woolly hat back on and scanned the crowd waiting to do the Northern Lights trip with them. ‘If he doesn’t get a move on he’s going to miss it whether he wants to or not. Does anyone have his phone number?’
‘Don’t look at me,’ Hortense scoffed. ‘I wouldn’t have one of the blasted things if you paid me. I’m available as and when I decide, and I rather like it that way.’
‘I don’t have it either. I suppose one of us ought to swap numbers with him at some point so we can avoid this happening again.’ Esme glanced at the tour guide, who had started checking people onto the bus. ‘Do you think we can get them to wait for him?’ she asked, her gaze still trained on the young man.
‘I don’t think they’d hold things up for too long,’ Brian said doubtfully. ‘Schedule to keep to and all that. It might take a while to find the right bit of sky too so they’ll want to get away on time.’
Esme turned back to them. ‘I’ll go and see if he’s in his room. It won’t take me a minute.’
She didn’t get far. Zach emerged before she’d crossed half of the car park and Niko was with him. It looked as if they’d spent the hours he’d been back from Santa’s village together. She was beset by a sudden pang of jealousy.
‘I’ll miss your company tonight,’ Esme heard Niko say as he clapped him on the back. ‘But I understand – the Lights are calling and you do not want to miss them.’
Zach fixed him a look full of gratitude. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘Any time, man. You come and look for me.’
Esme began to back away. She didn’t know what this conversation was but she had a feeling it wasn’t for her ears. Had Niko waited for Zach in his room all the time she and Zach had been out? Or had he been hanging around at the hotel anyway? Maybe it was simply a coincidence that they’d run into each other again. But it didn’t seem that way. What was the deal with those two? She tried to work out the body language but somehow the signals were all mixed up.
Niko gave a brisk nod. ‘Take care, man.’
‘I will. And thanks again.’
Niko turned to leave, but then he caught sight of Esme and gave her one of his megawatt smiles. Sort of like one of Zach’s smiles, except that where Zach’s was like the sun, Niko’s was more of an electric light bulb – less natural and seeming as though it had required a lot more effort to produce. This was the version of Niko reserved for the tourists – flirting and pretending to be everyone’s best friend. What Esme had just seen with Zach – she had no doubt that was the real Niko.
‘Hey – going to the Lights chase?’ he asked.
Esme nodded. ‘That’s if the clouds move – they look pretty thick tonight.’
‘Your driver knows the best places. If there are Lights tonight he’ll find them.’
He threw her a wink and then sauntered off, hands buried in the pockets of his thick downy jacket. Esme turned to see Zach watch him go before giving her his full attention.
‘I didn’t know if you were coming,’ she said.
‘That makes two of us.’ For a moment it looked as if melancholic Zach had returned. But then he smiled and that Zach was banished again. ‘But I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s really the reason we’re all here in Lapland, isn’t it?’
‘That’s what I just said,’ Brian cut in cheerily.
Esme wasn’t sure that was true for any of them – not really. There were many personal reasons for each traveller – she was beginning to see that now – and she felt a lot of them had very little to do with the Northern Lights when you really got down to it. Certainly her own reasons were more complicated than that. ‘I thought Niko had tempted you away again, that’s all.’
‘God no, he’s too wild for me. Finished me off last night – I still feel like my blood is fifty per cent alcohol.’
Brian’s voice came from behind them. ‘Come on, mate, you’ll cause a riot if you hold the bus up any longer. We’ve got an aurora borealis to chase!’
Zach threw him a grin. ‘OK, OK, I’m getting on the bus now!’
Their guide followed weather reports from all over the neighbouring territories, and while the driver followed the satellite navigation system across the snowy terrain, the guide recalibrated from time to time to give them the best chance of a gap in the clouds. They drove for miles searching, but despite the weather remaining largely dry and the best efforts of the tour team, everyone was left disappointed. The fickle Northern Lights weren’t showing their colours to anyone tonight. They’d been told it was something to do with solar activity (or a lack of it) and so even though the weather hadn’t been a total loss, the solar activity that made the Lights dance had. It was often like this, their guide said, and anything worth having was worth a patient wait.
So, sometime in the early hours of the morning they conceded defeat. There was a collective groan from the passengers, a disappointment so huge and palpable it almost buckled the walls of the bus, only tempered by the fact that everyone was tired now and ready for a warm bed, and their guide had promised that they’d try again the following night. The weather forecast wasn’t perfect but he was hopeful that luck would be on their side.
Esme’s head rested on Zach’s shoulder as the bus bumped and jolted them back to the hotel, and in a half-slumber she almost fancied she could disappear into his arms and curl herself around him like a cat to sleep. She liked the idea that he’d keep her safe and warm for as long as she slept. When she dreamed those vague half-dreams of someone only dozing, she dreamed his face, the face of a friend she could rely on, someone she hoped she could keep in her life forever. She dreamed of days in the future where they’d be sharing a meal or a lazy coffee or a walk in the hills, of days where he’d meet her at some train station and smile his wonderful smile and her heart would leap at the sight of it. They’d share jokes and laugh, and sometimes they’d share woes and comfort each other, and he might even share the thing that made him sad, and she’d be able to help him so she would never have to see that sadness again.
She snapped awake at the sound of her phone and the dream popped like a soap bubble.
‘Are you going to answer that?’ Zach asked.
Esme nodded as she fumbled in her pocket. She looked at the screen and turned it off with a groan.
‘The boyfriend?’
She nodded again.
‘Heck of a time to be calling. He really does want to talk to you. You ought to put him out of his misery.’
‘He probably just got back from the pub,’ was all she could offer as an explanation.
Zach’s glance went to the large digital clock at the front of the bus. ‘At this hour?’
‘Lock-in. His local. They do it from time to time.’
‘Still, he could have safely assumed you’d be in bed asleep, even if he wasn’t.’
Esme thought back to all the times Warren had returned from a late night/early morning at his local and woke her for a cheese toastie or to clean up his sick or simply because the beer had made him horny. Sometimes she wouldn’t see him till late morning or even early afternoon, but she’d been up anyway, worrying to death about where he might be, trying his phone over and over. He’d get home and tell her he couldn’t remember where he’d been because he’d been so drunk, or that he’d crashed at a friend’s house, or he’d had to walk home because he’d run out of money for a cab. After she’d discovered Shelly’s existence, that fateful night when Shelly’s friend had seen her and Warren out on the town together and had set the events in motion that would see Esme running back to the hills of Derbyshire, she’d wondered if he’d really chosen to go back to Shelly’s place all those times instead. Perhaps she’d done the cheese toastie or cleaned up his sick or cured his horniness. She had to suppose that had been the case, although she had to admit that his new promises to her when she’d returned had meant that his visits to Shelly would have become a thing of the past. Wouldn’t it? Not for the first time she thought about the phone number she had for Shelly and she wondered how weird it would be to call her and ask her what had really been going on. Had Warren ever been straight with her about any of it? What was he telling Shelly about his relationship with Esme? Was he being straight with either of them, even now?
‘He probably forgot what time it was,’ she said.
‘Inconsiderate is what I’d call it.’
‘I suppose he’s a bit worse for wear and hasn’t realised what he’s doing.’
‘Even drunk he must have some sense of consideration for others,’ he said. ‘Unless there was never any in the first place.’
‘He’s…’ Esme paused. ‘I don’t know.’
Zach was silent for a moment. But then he spoke again and all trace of humour was gone. ‘Tell me again what’s so great about this guy?’
Esme turned away from him and laid her head against the seat.
‘It’s none of my business,’ Zach said quickly. ‘I’m sorry.’
Esme stared down the aisle of the bus, where the lights of the instruments on the dashboard pricked the gloom, and she didn’t say anything. What could she say when she didn’t know the answer to that question herself?