‘Hello, sleepy.’

Esme opened her eyes and took a moment to focus. Yep, Zach was still there, arms wrapped around her. With a contented sigh, she nuzzled into him and felt something…

In the next instant he leapt up and made for the bathroom. Esme wondered if he was going to be sick again, but she didn’t hear anything other than the tap running and a minute later he came back out.

‘We should probably see about getting some lunch,’ he said, grabbing his sweater and pulling it over his head. ‘We’ve missed breakfast by a mile I expect.’

Esme gave a lazy stretch. She didn’t much feel like going anywhere right now, though her stomach growled as if to argue the point.

‘That’s you?’ Zach asked briskly.

‘I’m afraid so. But it can wait.’

‘What for? For you to waste away? Come on, you need to eat something. What do you want?’

‘I want to stay in bed.’

‘In that case I’ll go for food and bring it back.’

‘Room service will do. Unless you’ve a hankering to go for a walk in sub-zero temperatures.’

‘Actually, I have,’ he said, although it all seemed rather sudden. Esme would have been happy to lie in bed with him all day and let food come to them when absolutely necessary. It would be a bit like being on honeymoon. Except without all the sex and certainty of disappointment in the years to come.

‘I could do with some air,’ he said, lacing up his boots. ‘It’s hot in here. Absolutely roasting. Ridiculous really.’

‘It’s toasty.’ Esme settled into the pillow again and pulled the covers over her shoulder. She was still dressed beneath them in the same clothes she’d worn the previous evening, but if it didn’t bother Zach then it certainly didn’t bother her. ‘Maybe I will get a pastry or something,’ she added. ‘If you insist on foraging.’

‘That’s all you want?’

‘And a coffee. Flat—’

‘Flat white – I know.’ He smiled.

‘You don’t mind, do you?’

‘I wouldn’t have offered if I did.’

‘There’s money on my dresser.’

‘Don’t worry – I think I can stretch to a pastry.’ He headed for the door. ‘I’ll be half an hour, tops.’

---

True to his word, half an hour later there was a knock at the door and Esme found Zach in the hallway laden with bags.

‘There’s almost certainly more than one pastry in there,’ she said, eyeing them.

‘I got carried away.’ He stepped in with a grin. ‘So now you’ll have to help me eat it all or it will go to waste.’

‘Everyone’s obsessed with feeding me up,’ Esme said, closing the door after him.

‘Maybe that’s because we all think you don’t eat enough.’

‘Maybe that’s because I just don’t have a big appetite.’

‘I know that’s not true because you wished for a faster metabolism from Santa.’ He began to lay out packs of sandwiches and cakes on the dressing table. ‘Which means you have to work at staying thin and that you deliberately avoid eating enough.’

‘God, you’ve got an answer for everything!’

‘It’s annoying as hell, isn’t it?’

Esme reached for a sandwich. It was something or other on dark rye but now that she was faced with all these goodies she realised that she was so hungry she didn’t actually care what was on it. Taking a bite, she discovered it was smoked salmon and let out a sigh of contentment.

‘Better than sex,’ she said.

Zach raised his eyebrows as he unwrapped a pack of sandwiches for himself.

‘But then most things are,’ Esme added.

Zach coughed. ‘Maybe you just haven’t had the right sex,’ he said.

Esme let out a giggle. ‘What’s the right sex?’

‘I don’t know. The right sex. I mean, you just know when it’s right, don’t you? Usually it’s right when it’s with someone you love and who loves you.’

She shrugged and reached for her coffee, peeling back the plastic lid to let it cool. ‘Are you suggesting I’ve never been in love?’

‘I’m not suggesting anything of the sort. Perhaps you’re drawing that conclusion all by yourself. I just meant that, in my humble opinion, sex ought to be making love.’

‘And occasionally making babies.’

Zach sipped his coffee and didn’t reply, and Esme sensed that strange, odd dip in his mood that sometimes plagued him at the most unexpected moments. She never quite knew when she’d say the wrong thing. Either she’d have to stop talking completely or learn to leave it be when she had said something wrong and let him work through his moods by himself.

‘What’s in the other bags?’ she asked in a bid to lighten things again.

‘It might be easier to ask what isn’t. Everything looked so good and I was getting a bit hungry myself. Bad idea, going for food on an empty stomach.’

‘Where did you get it?’ Esme peered into a paper bag to see an almond-topped bun.

‘A little bakery café place near that fake Santa building you saw the other day.’

‘Oooh, the cakes are good there – I had a couple. What can I have out of these bags, then?’

‘Anything you like. I’m not fussy – I’ll hoover up the stuff you don’t like.’

‘That won’t leave much for you then.’ Her mouth was full of the last corner of her sandwich as she added, ‘I wonder what Brian and Hortense are doing. You know… I hope they’re not both alone and fed up.’

Zach looked sheepish, probably recalling the argument he’d had with Esme about Brian being abandoned by her and Hortense.

‘I ran into Brian actually,’ he said. ‘When I went out to get this stuff. I think they’ve made it up – at least he said he was taking her to lunch. He asked about you.’

‘Probably thought I’d fallen into a hole.’

‘Something like that. I told him you were having a lie-in. I also made it clear there was no… you know. Between us.’

‘I wouldn’t have thought he’d have any worries on that score,’ Esme said cheerfully, and Zach’s forehead creased into a vague frown as he took another bite of his sandwich.

‘Maybe we should all have taken each other’s mobile numbers,’ he said. ‘At the start – although of course we couldn’t get one for Hortense. But it might have saved a lot of this worrying about where people are and if they’re OK.’

‘I said that myself. Were they worried then?’

‘A bit.’

Esme smiled. ‘That’s quite sweet.’

‘It is but it’s also awkward. You said that too – do you come and look for people when they miss breakfast or whatever, or do you assume they’re doing their own thing and leave it? A quick text would answer that.’

‘I suppose so. You could have my number now.’

‘It’s a start. Hang on.’

He reached into his pocket and unlocked his mobile. Esme relayed her number and he keyed it into his contacts. Then her phone rang, the screen showing unknown.

‘That’s me,’ he said. ‘Now you can save it.’

‘Now you’re stuck with me forever.’ Esme laughed as she unlocked her own phone and saved the contact.

Zach smiled. ‘I’d like that. Though I don’t think your boyfriend would.’

Esme stopped chewing. It had been so easy to forget Warren with Zach around, but he was still there, a real presence in her life, and sooner or later she’d have to face up to that.

‘He’d be alright with you,’ she said.

‘Really?’

‘Yes, because we’re not… well, you don’t fancy me. So he’s got nothing to worry about.’

Zach reached for his coffee and took a great gulp. ‘Esme…’

‘What?’

He paused, held her for a second in a gaze that was now serious. ‘It doesn’t matter. You’re feeling better with some food inside you?’

‘A million times better. Thank you – you’re the best friend ever.’

‘I’m glad. I meant what I said too – I’d love it if you called me when we got back to England. I could show you around my home town some time.’

‘Which is… Dorchester?’ Esme asked, trying to recall information that was given to her at their very first meeting.

‘Bang on.’

‘I’ve never been there. It sounds nice.’

‘Well, I’ve never been to Derbyshire so we’re even.’

Then it struck her. She’d told them she lived in Derbyshire and not London, a strange slip to make, like she’d tried to wipe out that part of her life. Just like she’d struggled to mention Warren to them. Perhaps it was something she ought to have taken more notice of before.

‘You’d love it,’ she said warmly. ‘I can’t describe how beautiful it is there. Sort of rugged and hard, but beautiful.’

‘I can’t wait to see it then. That’s if I’m invited, of course.’

‘Oh God, yes! You are most definitely invited!’

‘Looks like you’re going to be busy next year,’ he said, ‘what with me and Brian and Hortense and your new friends from Helsinki. You’ll have to start a travel blog or something with all these places you’ll be visiting.’

‘I think I’d quite like that.’

‘I think you more than deserve it too.’

Esme tried not to think about what he might mean by that remark and wished she could recall more of what she’d told him about her life the night before. Her gaze went to the window.

‘Do you think we’ll go on that Northern Lights trip tonight? I’m beginning to think it won’t happen at all.’

‘I really hope so. That’s the one thing I absolutely want to see before we go home.’

‘Me too, but everyone keeps telling us to be prepared for the fact that we might not get to see them. Or at least, if we do they might actually be a bit rubbish.’

‘They could never be rubbish.’

‘They could if all we see are wispy bits of grey. I bet the tour company still classes that as a sighting and considers their end of the bargain fulfilled.’

Zach bit into one of the almond pastries. ‘If that happens then I’ll book another one. I’ll pay for it as often as I need to; I just want to see them. Properly.’

‘That’s all very well if you can afford it.’

‘It doesn’t matter to me. If I have to beg, steal or borrow, then I will. It’s what I came to do.’

‘What about all the other stuff?’

‘Happy extras,’ he said with a small smile.

Don’t you dare go to misery town on me again, Esme thought, sensing a change in the mood. Sometimes, Zach really did feel like hard work. ‘Like these amazing cakes,’ she said. ‘It was worth travelling to Lapland just for these.’

‘Agreed – they are pretty good.’

‘Pretty good? They’re amazing! All I can say is if you know a better cake shop in Dorchester then you’ll have to take me to it.’

‘What about your slow metabolism and your nonexistent appetite?’

‘I’d have to get round it all somehow.’ She laughed. She couldn’t help it, because everything that she’d ever said to Zach seemed to be faintly ridiculous right now. Who was she kidding – she loved food! One of the things she’d loved most about being back with her grandma was the home-cooked dinners and stodgy puddings and the fact that the only gym she needed to work the calories off was out in the hills and dales of her home, where she walked many evenings as the sun set, making peace with the world. And she suddenly missed that life, more than she could say, and she was seized with a sharp and desperate desire to get it back. But she could never have it back now – at least not as it was with her grandma.

‘What’s wrong?’ Zach dropped his cake back into the paper bag and ran to pull her into a hug.

She shook her head. She hadn’t even realised that she was crying until a tear tracked her cheek. She’d been so determined that she wouldn’t allow Zach to get melancholy on her again and yet she’d done just that herself. ‘Ignore me – I’m being silly. I was just thinking about my grandma. I suppose it was the cakes.’

‘Hey,’ he said, his voice soft and low, ‘never apologise. You miss her – of course you do. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t.’

‘I know but… I’m not the first to lose someone, am I? And nobody else goes on like this.’

‘How do you know that? Just because they hide it better? Because they might deal with it in a way that’s invisible to everyone else? I understand, and I’m here if you need to talk about it. Never feel that you can’t because I will always listen, as many times as you need.’

Esme buried her face into his chest and breathed him in. There was no aftershave, no soap, just him. It was warm and calm and safe, and she could have stayed there with him filling her head all day.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

‘Don’t thank me,’ he said. ‘Isn’t it what any decent person would do?’

Yes, she thought, it is. So how come he was the first person who actually had?

---

There was a distinct feeling of déjà vu as Esme stood in the hotel car park waiting to board the minibus that would take them out for their second attempt to find the Northern Lights. There was a pause in the snow that had been sporadically falling all day but the clouds still looked as if they were out to spoil the party. This time, Zach stood with Esme, and after their almost twenty-four hours together doing more or less nothing she felt closer to him than ever. For better or worse, he was quickly becoming her touchstone, and whenever the thought of all the problems waiting back in England for her got too much to bear, she’d only have to look at him, see his smile or hear his voice and she’d be strong again. Right now, she didn’t want to think about how much she was going to miss his presence when they all went their separate ways.

He was studying the clouds as these thoughts ran through her mind. ‘It’s not looking very hopeful.’

Esme looked up at him, recalling their earlier conversation and how much seeing the Lights meant to him. It meant a lot to her too, but she was relaxed about it, for the first time since she’d arrived in Rovaniemi, and she suddenly realised that although she’d done this for her grandma, if she never saw them it didn’t seem to matter anymore. She’d gained so much more from this trip, and perhaps those things were the really important ones to take home. She had a feeling they’d be things her grandma would have approved of.

‘I don’t know,’ she said with a lazy smile. ‘I have a good feeling about tonight.’

‘You do? And this is based on…?’

‘Nothing in particular. Just do.’

‘So you’re psychic now?’

‘I wish.’ Esme laughed. ‘If I was there’s a whole heap of things I wouldn’t have done over the years. Maybe I’m just in a good mood today.’

‘Even though you’ve spent the whole day stuck in with me?’

‘Because I’ve spent the whole day stuck in with you.’

‘That’s not the usual reaction I get.’

‘Maybe you’ve been spending your days with the wrong people then.’

He smiled. ‘I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it. I’ve enjoyed it too.’

‘Now, hang on – don’t get ahead of yourself. Let’s face it – it was sort of your fault we were both too hung-over to do much else even if we wanted to. I think enjoyed is stretching things a bit. I’d say more like not completely awful.’

Zach chuckled and blew into his hands.

‘Where are your gloves?’ Esme asked.

‘I must have dropped them somewhere – can’t find them.’

‘Maybe we ought to go and look because you’re going to get frostbite.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t want to miss this trip. If there’s the tiniest chance we might see the Lights then I want to be there.’

‘I hope we do too – it would definitely be a highlight. You’re probably sick of hearing me say this, but Grandma would have loved all this. Even if we hadn’t got to see the Northern Lights she would have loved visiting this place. She’d have loved the anticipation and the hope for something magical to happen. She’d have loved the food and the people and the cold and snow – she’d have been asking for recipes and knitwear patterns wherever we went. And she’d have loved having a legitimate excuse to lecture me about wearing thermal underwear.’

Zach smiled down at her. He reached to tuck a stray hair behind her ear, and it was like an instinct, as if he hadn’t even noticed he’d done it. Momentarily, she closed her eyes, the contact sending a faint shiver of pleasure through her, making her wish that it could have been as much of a throwaway gesture for her as it seemed to be for him. But when she opened them again she saw that he’d turned his attention to the bus, now pulling into the car park, its headlights illuminating the snow.

‘Mostly, though,’ Esme said, ‘she would have loved that she’d been able to give all this to me.’

‘She sounds as if she was amazing,’ he said quietly, eyes still trained on the bus.

‘She was. My one sadness is that she can’t be here now.’

He tipped his face to the sky again and he was silent. Esme could almost see the shape of his thoughts, printed on his features. Around them there was a ripple of activity, people gathering travelling companions and belongings ready for their trip. With his gaze still trained upwards, Zach took a breath. Then he began: ‘Esme… there’s something—’

There was a loud clap from the doorway of the bus. Esme looked across to see that the tour guide was ready to check them all on and get moving. She turned back to Zach.

‘Looks like we’re ready to go. We’d better get lined up.’

Hortense hailed them as she hurried from the doorway of the hotel, Brian bringing up the rear, arms outstretched comically, almost like a goalie waiting to catch an errant cross. However, she didn’t look in much danger of one of her infamous tumbles as she rushed to meet them.

‘Talk about last minute,’ Zach said.

Esme grinned. ‘I expect they were snogging behind the sleigh shed.’

‘Honestly, I don’t know what’s worse – Hortense and Brian happily together or Hortense and Brian at loggerheads.’

‘I do – I’d rather have them together and just look away than have the terrible situation we had when they fell out. At least you can be friends with both of them again now.’

‘True. It was a bit awkward.’

‘And it made us fall out too,’ Esme said. ‘That’s the thing about these situations, they drag everyone else in too.’

He looked at her. ‘Sometimes you’re quite wise.’

‘Only sometimes?’ she asked as they walked to meet Brian and Hortense.

‘Yep.’

‘When am I not wise?’

‘Do you really want me to answer that?’

‘Maybe not.’

‘Good, because I would hate to put you in a bad mood before we leave.’

‘Quick, say something nice then or I’ll dwell on it.’

‘That was my nice thing.’

‘Oh, great. That’s it?’

He laughed. ‘OK, I’ll try to think of something else as we travel. Think of it as your Christmas gift.’

At the mention of Christmas gifts, Esme remembered that she actually did have gifts for all of them back in her room. Tonight would have been the perfect time to hand them out, but with everything else going on that day she hadn’t given it a thought. Not that she’d have had the time or privacy to wrap them with Zach around for most of it. She’d have to find another perfect opportunity now, but with their days together numbered, she’d have to find it pretty quickly.

‘Anyway,’ she said, her thoughts returning to the evening to come. ‘What was that you were just about to tell me before the bus arrived?’

He gave a small smile. ‘Nothing,’ he said quietly. ‘It doesn’t really matter.’

---

They had a different guide tonight. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen (at least she looked like that to Esme, who was feeling all of her twenty-eight years tonight as she continued to struggle with the after-effects of her excesses the night before) and spoke English with an accent that suggested she’d learned it in America rather than in England.

‘Good evening everyone!’ she announced over the microphone. ‘My name is Twain and I am very pleased to be your guide today. I am letting you know that we have been working very hard to find the best place to see the Lights tonight and with our detective skills, your driver and I have decided that we will drive to Saariselkä to look.’

‘What’s the name of the place?’ someone shouted.

‘Saariselkä,’ the guide repeated patiently.

‘Where’s that?’

‘Um…’ She turned to the driver and they had a brief conversation in rapid Finnish.

‘Never mind!’ the someone shouted up again. ‘Surprise us!’

‘Oh, we do like a magical mystery tour,’ someone else shouted, and there was a ripple of laughter from that section of the bus. Twain looked as if she was wondering if her passengers were going to be something of a handful and Esme had to agree. Some of them sounded a little tipsy and she’d seen some of them sneak bottles of alcohol onto the bus. Perhaps they were ready to party in the tundra, or perhaps they thought it would help to keep their body temperatures up. Either way, it certainly didn’t promise to be conducive to good behaviour.

‘Do you know where that is?’ Esme asked Zach.

‘How should I know?’

‘Well, you’ve been before.’

‘I know, but I haven’t been to that place before, so not a clue I’m afraid. Hang on though – if I can still get on the hotel Wi-Fi from here I can find out.’

It took a few attempts to look for it on Google because while the guide had, of course, pronounced it perfectly, spelling it perfectly was a different matter entirely.

‘I feel as if it should have more Ks,’ Esme said, looking over his shoulder.

‘Probably about twenty,’ Zach agreed and Esme giggled.

‘And no vowels,’ she added. ‘What is it with this language and their aversion to vowels?’

‘They probably think we have far too many. Ah… here we go!’ He turned his phone for Esme to see.

‘Oh, it looks pretty.’

‘Doesn’t it?’

‘And a little further away than I’d expected.’

‘I suppose they have to go where the weather will be kind. I don’t mind – it’s not like we’ve got anywhere else to be.’

Esme smiled as the bus engine started and they began to pull out of the hotel car park. ‘I’m so excited to see the Lights. I really hope we do this time.’

‘Me too.’

‘I know it means a lot to you but will you be very disappointed if we don’t see anything tonight?’ Esme’s mind went back to their previous failed attempt to view the Northern Lights, which had left them barely speaking. She didn’t want that to happen again and was determined to take all dangerous variables out of the equation if she possibly could. It really did seem massively important to him too – hadn’t he said he’d go to any lengths he could to achieve the one thing he’d come to Rovaniemi for? And anything that important to him felt important to her. Although it wasn’t helping her to live the moment when, even with her phone on silent, she could still feel it vibrating in her pocket, and two or three good guesses would tell her exactly who was calling.

He closed down the map function on his phone and looked up at her. ‘Will you be disappointed?’

‘A bit. When I first arrived I thought that was the most important part of the trip, the only reason to come that mattered because it was the thing Grandma had wanted to see. But now… I almost think it’s the least important bit. I mean, I want to see them, but I won’t be heartbroken if we don’t. I’ve seen so many other wonderful things and I’ve had just the best time, so it would be OK. Grandma could be happy that her gift had been everything she’d hoped for.’

‘I understand,’ he said, giving her a fond smile that made her want to smile too. ‘It’s helped that I’ve got to share all this with the best people too.’

‘Even she who must not be named?’ Esme arched an eyebrow and lowered her voice. Hortense and Brian were friends again, which meant their interactions were verging on the wrong side of socially acceptable again.

‘I know we’ve been taking the mickey, but I’m actually glad for them. At least they’ve found something good,’ Zach said. ‘I really hope it works out for them.’

‘Beyond this week? Do you think it will carry on when we all get back to England?’

‘I don’t see why not if that’s what they want. They seem pretty into each other, don’t you think?’

‘I suppose so. I guess Hortense wouldn’t have got quite so upset about Brian’s ex-wife if she didn’t care about him.’

‘Exactly. So maybe they’ve got a chance for something long term.’

Esme nudged him. ‘You pretend you don’t care but really you’re a soppy old romantic at heart.’

‘I pretend I don’t care? Is that what you think?’

‘I was just saying—’

‘Esme, I care. I care too much – that’s the problem. If not I’d…’

‘You’d what?’

He let out a slow breath. ‘I’d be able to share my true feelings with someone I’ve grown very fond of over the last few days.’

Esme smiled. ‘Have you arranged to see Niko before you leave? For another night out, I mean?’

‘Niko?’ Zach frowned. ‘Nothing concrete,’ he said uncertainly. ‘I expect we’ll run into one another – he’s often hanging out at the hotel. I think he gets a lot of his bookings from there.’

‘Yes, he is,’ Esme agreed, wondering if there was another reason Niko spent so much time at their hotel. ‘I think he’s very fond of you.’

‘We’re friends. He’s been good to talk to. Understanding.’

‘He’s not bad to look at either,’ Esme said, nudging him again.

‘Well, yes, but…’

Zach gave his head a tiny shake. By now the bus had left the lights of Rovaniemi behind and they were heading out into the countryside where the streetlamps were few and far between. Zach turned to stare out of the window, though all there was to see was blackness. Esme could see his reflection in the glass and it was pensive, sulky almost. She sensed that dip in mood again was imminent.

‘You like Niko?’ she asked.

‘Not as much as you, apparently.’

‘What?’

Once again, he offered no reply, and Esme was left frustrated that she had completely lost control of the conversation. What the hell had she said wrong this time?

---

Time passed. Esme was quietly straining to see what was out of the window and wondering what she could say to Zach that wouldn’t cause another misunderstanding. Brian called across the aisle of the bus.

‘Esme… Zach! Do you know how much further this place is on your map?’

‘Not sure.’ Esme glanced at Zach, who simply checked his phone again.

‘I’d say about ten minutes,’ he replied after a brief gap. ‘Why?’

‘Hortense wants—’

‘A pee!’ Hortense leaned across Brian and there was no shame, judging by the volume of her voice. ‘Every bump is agony!’

‘I doubt there’d be public loos out there,’ Esme began, but Hortense gave her head a firm shake.

‘As nature intended will do. There’s nothing wrong with finding a snow bank.’

‘I suppose needs must,’ Esme said with a smile, though she wasn’t sure she’d be so enthusiastic about pulling her trousers down in temperatures of minus twenty.

No sooner had Hortense spoken than there was a loud squeal from further up the bus.

‘I see it! Did you just see it? There! A gap in the clouds… just there!’

Half a dozen people raced to the woman’s seat and craned to get a look out of the window.

‘Oh my God, yes!’ someone else cooed. ‘It’s amazing!’

‘Please!’ the guide said into her microphone. ‘Please sit. We will stop in only a couple of minutes and take a look outside together.’

Reluctantly, the rogue passengers returned to their seats. Zach was sitting nearest to the window on their row and he peered outwards and upwards. Then he turned to Esme with a broad smile.

‘It’s only a little,’ he said, allowing her to lean over and guiding her gaze. ‘There… you see?’

It was only the tiniest pocket of clear sky but Esme saw it: a ripple of vibrant green.

‘Oh God!’ she breathed. She watched as it ebbed and flowed like brilliant waves on a celestial sea. But then the clouds moved in and swallowed the Lights once more. Esme sat back in her seat.

‘They’ve gone already.’

She sounded like a petulant child, but she couldn’t help it. Most people never got to see them once in their lives, and she already had one up on them. But she wanted to see them again. The moment had been so unexpected and fantastical that it was hard to believe it had actually happened at all. Zach sat back in his seat too.

‘At least we can say we’ve seen them, even if that’s all we get.’

He was right, of course, and Esme rallied, particularly when the sentiment had come from him, knowing how he’d longed to see them. ‘I suppose so. Weren’t they beautiful? It’s funny, even though I’ve seen endless photos I never imagined them to look like that in real life.’

Zach smiled, and it seemed an infinite thing that could never fall short of happiness to fuel it. And yet, even in the midst of the joy there was sadness. Though she couldn’t say how, Esme sensed it was there. It was like, over the past few days, she’d become subtly attuned to his moods on some unconscious level. It was strange, something that had never happened with anyone else before. Perhaps that was why she felt such a strong connection to him now, why she felt so desperate to retain some kind of friendship with him when all this was over. She only hoped he felt the same.

The bus slowed and then finally halted.

‘Now we can find a place to stop and get out,’ their guide announced.

A moment later everyone climbed out, eyes immediately heavenwards, apart from Hortense, whose eyes turned towards the nearest broad tree. She made a dash for it, leaning on Brian for support so she wouldn’t fall in the snow, and Esme couldn’t help but giggle at the loud sigh of profound relief that came from their direction. At least she hoped it was relief – surely even Brian and Hortense could control themselves for this particular excursion.

When they emerged they rejoined the tour party, Hortense looking very pleased with herself… Brian not so much. The clouds were patchy, and although there were decent stretches of sky it was now lit only by stars. They were beautiful enough, despite not being what they’d come for, dazzling and multitudinous away from the light pollution of the city. They even caught a shooting star, streaking towards the horizon. Instinctively, Esme glanced at Zach and made a wish. Would they always be friends now? She hoped and wished it, more than anything. She’d never had a friend like Zach and now that she’d found him she couldn’t imagine her life without him. She realised, with a sudden quiet epiphany, that her life had always been poorer for it.

‘Did you see the meteor?’ he asked as they watched the clouds roll and part, only to tumble back across one another again.

‘Yes.’

‘You made a wish, right?’

‘Of course – what do you take me for?’ She grinned. ‘You think I’m going to pass up on the opportunity of a divine favour?’

Zach gave a warm laugh. ‘I couldn’t have put it better myself.’

‘Did you?’

‘What?’

‘Make a wish?’

His smile was teasing. ‘I did. But obviously I can’t tell you what it is.’

‘Obviously, I know the rules. Can you give me a ballpark?’

‘No.’ He laughed. ‘I don’t want to anger the Wish Pixies.’

Esme snorted. ‘Wish Pixies!’

‘Well, whatever it is that sorts out your wish – wish pixies, fairies, elves, stars, God, Santa…’

‘You know, that’s a good point well made. Who does listen to your wishes? I’ve never actually thought about it before.’

‘I’d say that’s time sensibly spent doing other things,’ he said.

‘I don’t know what then, because currently I have no job, half a house and even less of a boyfriend.’

Zach stopped smiling. ‘He’s still partly boyfriend then?’

‘I suppose he is. Technically.’

‘Can I say something that you might not want to hear?’

‘Depends what it is.’

‘It’s about your boyfriend. I think you might have a good idea of what it’s going to be…’

‘There!’ someone in the group squealed and pointed. A strip of sky, low on the horizon cleared and a glorious dancing display of greens and pinks erupted.

Esme’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t help it. She forgot that she was cold, that Zach had been about to say something he knew she wouldn’t like and that she’d wanted to hear it anyway.

‘Oh my God,’ she whispered, letting out the breath she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding. There was a silence, more complete and profound than Esme had ever encountered before. Everyone watched as the sky shimmered and dazzled and walls of colour snaked across it and everyone was as silent and awestruck as her.

The stillness was broken by the sound of someone clapping and the applause began to ripple through the group. Some whooped and cheered and Esme laughed, filled to the brim with an indescribable kind of euphoria, and she felt oddly like a single-celled creature staring into the face of an infinitely complex universe that was all at once beautiful but also bewildering and terrifying. Zach turned to her with a grin, and in the heat of this one incredible, life-changing moment, she kissed him.

He didn’t pull away. Instead, he pulled her closer, cupping her face gently in his hands. Everything around them faded – there was only this: his cold hands and warm lips. And when they finally parted to take a breath, his eyes locked onto hers, he didn’t say a word.

What had she done? It had come from nowhere and she wouldn’t have been able to stop it no matter what – how could she have stopped something she’d had no idea she was going to do? His expression was unreadable in the half-light and she wanted him to say something, to tell her what he felt about what had just happened. But there was nothing. He simply turned back to the skies. And then he moved away – an inch at most, but Esme didn’t miss the action. It wasn’t what she’d been hoping for.

It was done and there was no going back and Esme didn’t know what to say to fix it. She didn’t want to apologise because saying sorry would imply that she’d done something wrong and, despite everything, it had felt so very right. Had it been worth it, though? Had it been worth throwing away a friendship for? Zach still said nothing and still didn’t look at her, and surely something needed to be said? What was he thinking? Did his silence mean that in one foolish, impulsive moment she’d lost him?

She glanced behind her to see Hortense, not looking at the sky like everyone else, but looking at her, mouth open. It was obvious from her face that she’d seen the whole thing.

Esme tried not to acknowledge the look on Hortense’s face that begged for an immediate explanation. Instead, she turned her eyes heavenward again, though the joy she’d first felt as the Lights danced and cracked had died. Her eyes were heavenward not to enjoy the celestial display, but to offer a silent prayer to whoever might be listening – wish pixies, fairies, God, Santa – that she hadn’t screwed everything up.