Twenty
Hortense wasn’t about to drop her new favourite topic of conversation. At breakfast the following morning she accosted Esme at the hot buffet.
‘I wonder,’ she began, leaving Esme wishing Hortense’s voice came in a register that wasn’t loud or extremely loud, ‘if we haven’t got the situation with young Zachary entirely wrong.’
‘What situation?’
‘You know… the situation.’
As Esme ladled porridge into a bowl she wondered how to respond to this. It was the same train of thought that had kept her awake for most of the night as she’d replayed their kiss over and over. After all, it had only been conjecture on Hortense’s part, so why had Esme been so quick to go along with the notion that Zach and Niko were an item? Esme had been forced to question that too and she couldn’t come up with a solution, except for perhaps it being the only way she was able to feel so completely comfortable with Zach. Because, strangely, the idea of him being interested only in Niko had made being with him so much easier for Esme. There’d been no complication, no trying to read subtext or worrying over hidden agendas – they’d just got along, loving each other’s company. And even though there had been nothing sexual about it, she’d loved the emotional connection, perhaps more than she ought to have done. Perhaps that alone said so much more about her feelings for Zach than she’d been willing to admit.
He’d been awkward as they’d journeyed home, and neither of them had addressed the incident, and yet there had been passion in that kiss from both sides.
They’d parted at the hotel and gone their separate ways with only the barest courtesy; he’d been distant and strained and Esme couldn’t understand how so much heat had cooled so quickly – she only knew that it saddened her. She’d woken with him on her mind and had sent him a text to say she’d see him down in the breakfast room, but so far he hadn’t replied and he hadn’t shown up. Did that mean he was avoiding her? It seemed the most obvious explanation.
‘I don’t know what to think,’ Esme said.
‘Ah! So you do like him. I wouldn’t blame you – he’s rather handsome and really rather sweet. There’s clearly some huge trauma in his past, but aren’t we all a little damaged by the time we reach adulthood? I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be exorcised. You’d be well-suited, I think.’
Esme stared at Hortense as she gave her impromptu analysis while scooping three sugary pastries onto her plate, emptying the tray they’d occupied.
‘I’d take the direct approach,’ she continued. ‘Straight out with it. You don’t get anywhere pussyfooting around.’
‘Straight out with what?’
‘Ask him if he’s gay.’
‘OK,’ Esme said slowly. ‘And if he says yes, what then?’
‘Then, dear girl, you needn’t give it another thought. Carry on regardless, enjoy the rest of your holiday and put it all down to experience. Have a laugh about what a ghastly mess it all was.’
‘It’s not that simple. I have…’ She was about to say boyfriend again, but she didn’t even know if she did have one of those anymore, at least, not in her own mind. Maybe her inability to make Warren’s existence public didn’t matter anymore regardless. ‘What about Niko?’ she asked lamely instead.
‘Precisely my point. In my experience it’s always sensible to take the direct approach so everyone knows where they stand. Just ask him.’
Esme shook her head. ‘I couldn’t. I wouldn’t even know where to start.’
Hortense clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth as they moved towards the tiny pots of butter and she grabbed a handful. ‘Perhaps I ought to do it.’
‘No!’ Esme glanced around and lowered her voice. ‘No. Thank you, but that would be worse. I’ll talk to him.’
Hortense shrugged. ‘It may seem awkward now, but at least you’ll know whether it’s worth losing sleep over. No point in ruining the rest of your holiday over nothing. Now… what plans do you have for today?’
‘I don’t really know yet. I just thought…’
What had she thought? That she’d hide in her room all day, rendered useless by her own sense of mortification? Waste her last opportunity to put things right with Zach? Even worse, waste the last precious hours of a holiday that had been gifted with so much love from her grandma? Then again, if she was going to be a grownup and finally take control of her life, perhaps what she ought to be doing was flying home to talk Warren through all the reasons that meant she could now never go back to him. Over the last few days she’d come to the creeping realisation that there were many more of them than she’d ever imagined.
‘There’s a carol concert in the town,’ Hortense said. ‘All the local children will be singing. And afterwards Christmas fireworks. You’ll come, won’t you?’
‘It does sound nice. But—’
Hortense patted her hand. ‘Of course it does. That’s settled then.’
They began to walk back to their table. What was the point in trying to argue – Hortense would only have an answer for everything anyway. And if she didn’t, there was always the danger she’d take matters into her own hands and cause mischief. It was probably better to stick close to her today after all, where Esme could keep an eye on what she might be up to.
As they sat down, Brian came into the dining room, forfeiting the hot breakfast buffet and heading straight for their table.
‘Have you sorted everything?’ he asked, looking from one to the other.
Esme suppressed a groan. Of course Hortense had told him what she’d seen the previous night and what she’d planned to do about it. And yet, Esme had hoped that, for what she imagined would be the first time in her life, Hortense could have practiced a little discretion.
‘She simply refuses to talk to him,’ Hortense said, dipping a cinnamon roll into her coffee before stuffing it into her mouth.
‘I can’t say I blame her,’ he replied.
Hortense glared at him. ‘That is not what you said last night! And just because you’re emotionally stunted,’ she huffed, ‘doesn’t mean that’s the way we all deal with these things.’
‘It doesn’t make me emotionally stunted. Sometimes these things iron themselves out if you leave them to breathe.’
Hortense folded her arms. ‘When did that ever happen in the history of the world? Woman ignores problem, problem goes away? Perhaps if a man ignored it he might imagine it had gone away, but women are far too practical to imagine that avoidance is any kind of solution.’
‘Give the man some space and he might come to talk to her…’ He turned to Esme. ‘I mean you, pet. He might come and talk to you. It wasn’t meant to be rude.’
Esme smiled. ‘I know you did, and I didn’t think you were being rude.’
‘Rot,’ Hortense said. ‘I keep telling you, Esme, the direct approach. It’s the only way. Churchill didn’t win the war by waiting for Hitler to come and talk to him.’
Esme exchanged a look of confusion with Brian. She wasn’t sure what it had to do with Churchill and Hitler and she guessed he didn’t either.
‘Perhaps you could talk to him, Brian,’ Hortense said. ‘On Esme’s behalf.’
Esme bit back a cry of frustration. ‘No! Thank you both, but there’s no point in stirring things up and I get the feeling Zach wouldn’t want to talk about it. I’d quite like to forget about it too.’
‘But—’
‘I thought you’d just agreed to go and see him,’ Hortense said with a look of faint surprise.
‘I did, but on balance I’m not sure it’s the best idea.’
‘But, my dear girl—’
‘I appreciate everyone’s concern,’ Esme cut in, ‘but, really, I’d rather leave it be.’
Brian exchanged a glance with Hortense, where he was obviously feeling vaguely triumphant and she was more irked by him than ever. Then he gave a cheerful shrug.
‘I’ll go and get my breakfast then.’
Hortense watched him go, swirling the last corner of her cinnamon bun in her coffee. ‘Don’t you think you might come to regret your decision?’ she said mildly.
‘Maybe, but if it spares any further difficulties between me and Zach then I’ll live with the consequences.’
‘What if it creates more?’
‘I don’t see how it can.’
Hortense turned to her with a vague shrug. Clearly, for possibly the first time in her life, she was holding back on something she really wanted to say. So much for the direct approach.
It was as she was getting ready to go out to the fireworks that evening that Esme’s mobile phone rang and she noted, with mild surprise, an unknown number showing on the screen.
Shelly?
Her suspicions were confirmed as she took the call.
‘Is that Esme?’
‘Shelly?’
‘Look, this doesn’t mean we’re friends or anything, but I thought you might want to know that Warren came round here last night – just after you phoned me. Trying to worm his way back into the flat, telling me we’re meant to be together and all that bullshit. I don’t know what’s changed but something has, and he was doing his persuasive best to move me this time.’
Esme was thoughtful for a moment. ‘I take it you’ve told him no?’
‘Told him to sling his hook. What’s the situation with you two now? Be straight with me – it’s the least I deserve.’
‘You’re right – it is, but I can’t tell you. Not because I don’t want to but because I don’t really know. It’s complicated.’
‘Isn’t it always? You don’t need to tell me about complicated – it’s all Warren and me have ever been. So you’re not living together now? Or you are and he’s bored? It doesn’t take him long to start wandering and he usually ends up back here. Probably because I’m stupid enough to take him back.’
‘I thought you didn’t want to know what was going on with Warren and me,’ Esme replied with a wry smile.
‘That was before he turned up here with flowers and wine. I always know something’s amiss when there’s flowers and wine. Good wine too, so I know for sure he’s after something.’
‘Oh, yes. And the flowers. The bigger the bouquet the more trouble he’s trying to fix.’
‘Oh God. You should have seen the size of them when he first messed me around. Julie, her name was. I think he’d cleaned out Kew Gardens. Silly bloody moo I am forgave him too. Back then I thought big flowers meant big remorse. What an idiot.’
‘You’re not. If you’re an idiot then I think there are quite a few of us around.’
‘So you’ve chucked him out?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘You’ve left his other flat?’
‘I’m not even in England right now.’
‘Not in England? I know he can be a pain but that’s a long way to run.’
‘I suppose it is. It’s a holiday, though.’
‘I’ve got to hand it to you – dump Warren and go on holiday. Cool as you like.’
‘Not even that,’ Esme said, and she couldn’t help a little laugh at the notion. ‘It was booked by my grandma for me as a Christmas present.’
‘So she’s with you?’
‘No. She died before the trip. I had wanted Warren to go but he didn’t fancy it.’
‘I suppose he had to pay for the ticket?’
‘No, he could have had my grandma’s. I asked him but he said no.’
‘Bloody hell – there’s a turn up. He’s not one to pass up on free. He’ll even take cut price. We’ve been on some shit holidays because he’s had the accommodation cheap. His mate’s caravan… ugh!’
‘Is that in Clacton, by any chance?’
‘Yeah. Gary’s place. Don’t tell me you’ve been there?’
‘He wanted to take me there instead of this holiday.’
‘Oh God, you’ve had a lucky escape. It’s a shithole! Doesn’t get cleaned from one month to the next – used condoms down the side of the bed, food left rotting in the fridge…’
Esme smiled. It was funny, but she was warming to Shelly already now that they were able to talk properly, and she got the impression that the feeling was mutual.
‘When Warren didn’t come home, where did you think he was?’ Esme asked.
‘Where did you think he was? He must have been doing the same to you when he came home to me. Or whoever it was that week.’
‘Oh, yeah, that was one of his favourites.’
‘He did use that one a lot. Sometimes he said he’d been at a lock-in and he’d stayed there all night or crashed with a mate. It’s funny because I sort of didn’t mind. It almost felt like a break when he didn’t come home. Sometimes he said he’d got a conference with an overnight stay.’
‘I had all those. I know what you mean about a break too. I think on some level I knew he was lying, but I didn’t want to think about it because I enjoyed the peace too much when he wasn’t here. I didn’t have to tread on eggshells all the time and constantly think about whether he was pleased with me or not.’
Esme blinked. ‘You felt like that?’ Shelly seemed so confident to Esme, so mature and collected. She couldn’t imagine that Warren would make her feel just the way he made Esme herself feel – like nothing she ever did really pleased him.
‘He has a way of making you feel shit. Like you’re an essay and he’s a teacher who never marks it with anything but red pen no matter how hard you try. You can study and you can revise and you can research all you like, but it will never be good enough for him.’
‘But we don’t leave him, even though he makes us feel like that.’
‘It’s because he makes us feel like that we don’t leave him. It took me a long time to realise it. He makes us feel like we’re not worthy, and then he lets us believe he’s making this huge sacrifice to be with us, how we’d never be good enough for anyone else and so staying with him is saving us from a life of loneliness. He puts up with all our imperfect crap as a favour and we ought to be grateful he’s there at all.’ Shelly paused. ‘Sound familiar?’
‘And yet you kept taking him back…’
‘You did too – right?’
‘I suppose I did.’
‘Took us both for mugs then, didn’t he?’
‘Yeah.’ Esme sat on the bed and stared at the wall. ‘How stupid do I feel?’
‘However stupid it is, you can bet I’ve been there.’
‘Not anymore though?’
‘Do you know what I did yesterday?’
‘What?’
‘I went for coffee with a boy I knew at school. We’d been mates all those years ago, and he’d been off round the world on a cruise ship doing shows. Every time he came back to England for leave he’d message me to ask if I wanted to meet up for coffee and I’d always said no.’
‘Because Warren was jealous?’
‘Because Warren likes to control the contact you have with other people. He likes to decide who you see and don’t see, and it usually ends up being his friends you see – not yours. I told him time and time again he had no need to worry about my mate Danny – he’s gay for a start. But Warren just wouldn’t have it. Once I said I was going anyway and he went mental, threatened to lock me in the flat. In the end it was just easier to make excuses to Danny and not go. But yesterday, I got to decide who I saw and where I went, and I walked into that coffee shop and I met Danny and I felt properly free for the first time in years. I can’t tell you how valuable that is and I’m not giving it up again. I’ve wasted too much of my life already trying to please a man who can’t be pleased. It’s about time I pleased myself.’
Esme was silent as she took in all that Shelly had told her. It was time to be brutally honest – hadn’t she already seen all of this for herself in her own relationship with Warren? Hadn’t she lost her friends and her family because he’d made it just too difficult to stay in contact? She’d persuaded herself it was a reaction to their dislike of him, but perhaps it was about control.
‘Am I describing your life with Warren too?’ Shelly said into the gap.
‘Yes.’
‘Do you want some advice from an old discarded wife?’
‘You’re not any of that.’
‘I still feel like it. I think that feeling will take a long time to go. Still, my advice is this – and I don’t owe you anything so let’s make that clear; this is just my altruistic side coming to the surface – get out. Get away from him before he wears you away so completely you can barely see yourself when you look in the mirror.’
It was almost certainly the coldest evening Esme had endured so far, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from watching the fireworks. So she stamped her feet and shivered and wished that she had some mountaineering thermals or whatever it was that Hortense said she was wearing that kept her happily impervious to the chill.
Despite this, however, the Christmas carols had lifted Esme’s mood. The children in the choir had been adorable, and the whole thing had been surprisingly moving, so it had been quite impossible not to feel uplifted by the end of it. The fact that Zach hadn’t shown up had been something of a relief in the end too. Out of sight, out of mind, her grandma used to say, and although he wasn’t exactly out of mind, the emotional turmoil had been put to one side for a while at least. She’d have to address what it all meant at some point, if only in her own mind, but not now. Then again, they were going home tomorrow. By sending the text before breakfast she considered that she’d made the first move. She’d made it clear she was available and willing to discuss things. If Zach didn’t come to her today and talk things through then she could only assume he didn’t want to talk – not now or ever, and that he wanted her to leave him alone. As much as the notion stung, she’d have to respect his wishes all the same. It was all very well adopting Hortense’s direct approach if you were exactly like Hortense – strong and resilient enough to take whatever consequences may result from it, but Esme wasn’t like Hortense and it just wasn’t an option.
That wasn’t the only thing that had Esme’s head in a whirl. Snippets of her conversation with Shelly kept replaying in her head, along with the warning Shelly had left her with. In many ways, everything looked clear for the first time since she’d met Warren, but in so many ways Shelly’s insights led to more questions than they answered. Most importantly, why had Esme herself been so utterly taken in by him? For that matter, why had Shelly been taken in? Esme felt she’d got a pretty good measure of Warren’s wife now and she didn’t come across as a fragile flower who’d be that easy to hoodwink or control, and yet he’d done both those things to her for a number of years. One thing Esme did know, Warren needed to be stamped with a government health warning. It didn’t seem fair to set him loose on the female population without one.
For once, perhaps out of respect for delicate feelings, Brian and Hortense kept a respectful distance from each other – merely holding hands as they waited for the show to begin, and every so often one of them would fire a knowing look at Esme, or at her and then each other. Esme didn’t know whether she wanted to scream with impatience or throw her arms around them both for being so concerned for her welfare. She certainly couldn’t argue that they didn’t care.
‘Oh dear. There’s still no sign of him,’ Hortense said. She looked at Esme like Esme ought to ask who she meant but, of course, Esme didn’t need to.
‘He missed the carols too,’ Brian said, perhaps a slightly unnecessary observation in the circumstances. They were all well aware Zach had missed the carol concert because they had all been at the carol concert. ‘That’s a real shame.’
‘Oh, it is a shame,’ Hortense agreed. ‘I don’t suppose you went to talk to him after all,’ she added. ‘As you said you might this morning…’
‘I thought you told me not to,’ he replied. ‘And Esme made it clear she didn’t want me to.’
‘Thank you,’ Esme said, giving him a grateful smile. While their situation troubled her, the only people she wanted to involve in it were her and Zach – any more would only complicate things.
‘Although I did go to his room while you waited in that big queue for chestnuts,’ Brian announced, and this time Esme turned sharply. ‘Only because he’s part of our gang and I didn’t want him to think we’d forgotten him or that we weren’t bothered. He told me he felt under the weather but he’d try to join us later.’
‘How did he look?’ Esme asked, unable to stop herself. She was doing her best to look as if she didn’t care but was beginning to resign herself to the fact that she was probably fooling no one.
‘Alright. Not very talkative.’
‘But he looked OK?’
‘Right enough.’
‘Not ill?’
‘Not really.’
‘Right… good.’
Esme didn’t know what to make of the information. What was she supposed to do?
‘Don’t give it another thought, dear girl,’ Hortense said. Esme tried to smile.
‘I just feel bad about how it all wound up. I feel as if it’s ruined the holiday for everyone.’
‘Nonsense! I’ve had the most marvellous time! It’s been a pleasure spending it with you. I hope I’ve made a rather wonderful friend for life.’ Hortense turned to Brian. ‘Don’t you agree?’
Brian nodded. ‘Oh, yes. We’ll have to meet up again back in England sometime.’
Esme wasn’t sure Zach would be quite as keen for that, but she liked that Hortense and Brian were. At least that was something. And despite all their obvious differences in age and background, she had become very fond of them both. Like Zach, she harboured a secret hope that Hortense and Brian would stay together once the holiday was over, and looking at them now, she had a feeling they just might. It looked as if Esme, however, would have to be content with that and with the memories of the good bits with Zach. Maybe she’d try to see him once more before their flight tomorrow, give it one more shot, once the fireworks were over. That was assuming he didn’t show up at all tonight, and that was looking increasingly likely right now.
‘I’d like that,’ she said in answer to Brian’s offer. ‘And when I get settled in my new house you’re welcome to come and stay with me.’
Hortense raised her eyebrows. ‘You never said you were buying a property! Congratulations! When are you able to move in?’
‘No.’ Esme smiled. ‘I’m not. It’s my grandma’s house. At least, it used to be. I suppose it’s mine now.’
‘Ah. I hadn’t realised. Did she leave it for you in her will?’
‘Something like that. I must admit I’d been a bit hesitant to live in it but now…’
‘Oh, you simply must live in it. It’s a wonderful thing to be able to keep it in the family for the next generation. You must fill it full of new memories – it’s the best way to honour your grandmother’s memory.’
‘I never thought about it like that. I just got… well, I got a little lonely there. I mean, I lived there for a few weeks after she died but…’
‘It was bound to be strange at first. Have you tried redecorating?’
‘I can’t say I’ve given it much thought. I was so busy holding on to her stuff… I suppose to try and hold on to her. Trying to hold on to the last few months with her. They were the happiest I’ve been in a long time and…’
Hortense rushed to give Esme a hug. ‘Oh, dear one, you simply must let these emotions out. There’s no shame in grief. When Mummy died I cried and cried for weeks.’
Esme shook her head and smiled through her tears. ‘It’s OK, I’m not ashamed. Not with you and Brian. It’s just… I’m angry with myself. I’m angry that I threw away what I’d achieved in that time with my grandma and I’d let myself slide back into a life I hadn’t wanted, a life I’d tried to run away from.’
Hortense threw Brian a puzzled glance. ‘I don’t want to pry but if you need to talk about it…’
‘I don’t, not really. But I do need to remember it because I have a lot to sort out when I go home tomorrow. I need to hold onto this feeling I have now, and I need to remember how much I love Grandma’s house so I can stay strong enough to resist the temptation to take the easy path again. Sometimes I’ll get lonely but I have to remember it’s OK.’
‘You need never be lonely now – I’m only ever a phone call away. Say the word and I’ll hop in my little car and be with you before you can blink.’
‘Too right,’ Brian said. ‘That goes for both of us.’
Their kindness filled Esme’s eyes with fresh tears and she blinked them back. On a practical level it was far too cold for crying – if she carried on like this her tears would be freezing right on her face. And it was just plain silly too. With people like Hortense and Brian in her life, what reason did she have to cry?
‘Thank you – that means a lot to me.’
‘It will be our pleasure. We’ve both become quite fond of you this week. As you know, I don’t have a daughter of my own but if I did, I’d be jolly happy if she was like you.’
‘Oh God, don’t!’ Esme laughed through her tears. ‘Don’t make me worse! Listen,’ she said, sniffing, ‘I was going to leave this until later but, well… now seems like a good time in the circumstances.’ Esme unfastened her rucksack. ‘I just… well…’ She lifted three gifts wrapped in metallic paper and finished with bows and tags from her rucksack and peered at the labels of each. ‘They’re only small. Just, you know, because it’s Christmas and I wanted to say how much better you’ve made this trip for me. In fact, I’m sure I’d have had a miserable time without you.’
She handed one to Hortense and one to Brian. Then she looked at the label of the third again with regret before putting it back in her bag. She didn’t suppose she’d have the opportunity to give Zach’s to him now and she didn’t know how appropriate it would be in the circumstances, even if she did.
‘I’m sure that’s not true at all,’ Hortense said, turning over the parcel in her hands. She pulled off a mitten and tore at the sticky tape sealing it. ‘I feel dreadful that I haven’t bought anything for you.’
‘I didn’t buy to receive. I just wanted you to know that your company has meant a lot to me this week. Plus, I really like Christmas shopping, especially here. In fact, it’s absolutely mind-blowing here!’
‘Oh, dearest girl, they’re marvellous!’ Hortense held up her knitted booties for Brian. ‘Aren’t they marvellous, Brian?’
Brian nodded as he opened his and showed Hortense and she laughed to see he had a matching pair.
‘Well, that can only mean one thing,’ he said, laughing too. ‘It means we have to live together, Hortense.’
‘What a fabulous idea!’ she said, laughing harder now. ‘I’ll be over next week with my trunk, dear boy!’
‘Bloody hell, woman, we’d kill each other inside a week!’
Esme giggled. Though something told her that if Brian had agreed, even in jest, Hortense would probably take him at his word and might well pack up and head north to his house. And maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing for two people who seemed so happy and natural in each other’s company. For a fleeting moment there was a tug of envy. What a wonderful ending for their story. If only there could have been an ending like that for Esme. But she shook the thought away. Perhaps the best she could hope for now, the best outcome she could strive for was to be happy on her own in a new life, and perhaps, if luck was on her side, the rest, one day, would follow. She was young enough and she had time, and perhaps all she really needed to make peace with was the notion that settling for nothing at all was sometimes better than settling for second best.
‘Thank you, Esme,’ Brian said.
‘Yes, it’s terribly kind of you,’ Hortense agreed. ‘Thank you.’ She reached to give Esme a kiss on the cheek. Then her gaze went to the rucksack. ‘I suppose the third gift…’
Esme nodded. ‘I suppose I could keep hold of it. Maybe I can give it to him if he comes tonight.’
‘Of course, dear girl. Quite.’
‘And if he doesn’t, I suppose I’ll just take it home with me. I do quite like it anyway so it would be a nice souvenir of my time here.’
‘Not much time to go and get a refund now, eh?’ Brian said.
‘I don’t think I’d want to,’ Esme said. ‘It wouldn’t feel right somehow.’
‘I quite understand,’ Hortense said with a sage nod.
‘Do you think…’ Esme began, but then the public address system burst into life and cut short her question. The assembled crowd (which had swelled considerably as Esme had waited in the cold) turned expectantly towards the stage, and Esme had to put all other thoughts to one side – for a while at least. There was an announcement, much cheering and then Santa Claus arrived with his elves – direct from their village, as the announcer said – and then even more cheering as they wished the crowd a merry Christmas. It wasn’t quite Christmas yet but nobody cared. The elves danced under flashing disco lights and whooped and looked more like lithe extras from a seventies dance troupe than fabled woodland-dwelling, gift-constructing creatures with a peculiar unexplained loyalty to a fat red-coated man.
Esme couldn’t help but smile. Despite everything, there was something about Santa’s home town that was utterly enchanting, whatever your age. How could anybody be unhappy for long in a place like this?
Half an hour later the first fireworks exploded across the sky. Not quite as rare a sight as the aurora borealis but every bit as magical. Blue, green, gold and silver, scarlet and orange, they popped and fizzed and rained down to rapturous applause. There was music and narration too, and everything was choreographed to a theme that told of the various global beliefs around Christmas, tales and traditions of the festive season from around the world. They told the story of the Christmas log in Spain, the Yule Lads from Iceland and, of course, the Finns had to have a festive sauna! Esme had been to some impressive firework displays in her time but none so thoughtfully planned as these. From time to time she’d glance around the crowd and everywhere were little children, beside themselves with excitement, and parents not much better. Even though the temperatures were enough to keep her freezer ticking over back at home, the sheer numbers in the crowd massed around her and the swell of happiness was enough to keep her toasty warm.
She gave a broad smile as Hortense grabbed her and pulled her into such a determined hug that she might fall over when she let go. In fact, Esme was ready with an arm to catch her, just in case.
‘Isn’t it all marvellous!’ Hortense cried. ‘There’d be no wars at all if all the generals came along to see this!’
Esme laughed. ‘That’s true.’
‘Merry Christmas, dear girl!’
‘You too,’ Esme said. ‘It’s honestly been wonderful getting to know you and I do hope we can stay in touch.’
‘Just try to keep me away!’
It was then that Brian turned to see the outpourings. He looked rather uncomfortable, as if he wasn’t quite sure if he ought to join in. That was the thing about Brian – he never quite looked as if he was certain he ought to join in and yet he was always welcome. Perhaps an after-effect of his marriage, but if he stayed with Hortense, Esme was pretty sure he’d soon lose that particular trait. She leaned in to give him a light kiss on the cheek.
‘Merry Christmas to you too, Brian.’
‘Absolutely,’ he said. ‘Thank you. I mean, merry Christmas.’
Another flash of scarlet burst across the sky and then rained down fiery sparks.
‘Oh, that was a good one!’ Hortense cried, bursting into spontaneous applause.
Then there was a hand on Esme’s shoulder. She spun around, heart suddenly, inexplicably thumping, half expecting to see Zach behind her. Instead, it was Niko. Instinctively, she looked beyond him, scanning the crowds.
‘You are looking for Zach?’ Niko asked.
Esme blinked. Was it that obvious to everyone?
‘Oh, I’m sorry… Hello, Niko.’
Niko gave a perfunctory smile. ‘He’s not with me. Sorry.’
Esme hesitated. What was Niko trying to tell her? Was it anything at all? ‘Have you seen him today?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘He’s alright?’
‘Not completely.’
‘Oh.’ Esme didn’t know what to say to that and she didn’t really understand what it meant either. ‘Is he planning to catch the rest of the fireworks?’ she asked as another burst of magenta sparks rained down from the sky, accompanied by more applause from the audience.
‘He will try.’
Esme forced a smile. In a strange way she felt they had been rivals for Zach’s affections all week, and yet neither of them had ever made it so. ‘You like him a lot, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘You think we are lovers?’
Esme stared at him. ‘Well, Brian and Hortense… they said…’
But she never got to finish the sentence because a girl Esme instantly recognised as one of their snowmobiling party spotted Niko and pushed through the crowd to grab him.
‘Merry Christmas!’ she cried.
Esme watched as Niko fell into easy small talk with the girl. The way he switched it on and off was really quite incredible, and to see him now it was as if the brief revelation he’d shared with Esme had never happened
But Esme knew that she needed to know, once and for all, how Zach felt about her, about Niko – about everything – and it was now or never. This was their last night in Rovaniemi, her last chance to get it right, to mend a broken friendship or coax it into something more. She’d got so close to Zach she couldn’t lose him, not without a fight. However that played out – whether they left as friends or (and the hope now grew in her) something more than friends, she had to see him one last time at least. Besides, she had a gift for him – the perfect excuse to search him out and an innocent enough lead into a more meaningful dialogue.
Tuning into the conversation between Niko and the girl again, she listened for an opportunity to grab Niko’s attention. She needed to hear more of what she was certain he’d been about to tell her and she somehow knew that it was important for her and Zach. All the while she kept one eye on the crowd, hoping to see Zach himself arrive.
The hoped for lull in their chat didn’t materialise, but a few minutes later she saw Zach across the crowd. Her heart did that strange leap again, and she wanted to run to him, but there were so many bodies in the way she hadn’t a hope of reaching him at all, let alone running. He didn’t seem too concerned with reaching them either as he watched the skies, and Esme wondered whether perhaps he hadn’t seen them. Pulling out her phone she sent a text. With all the noise of the fireworks and the music he probably wouldn’t even hear the notification – all she could hope was that he’d notice her message at some point and come to find her.
Then she heard Niko’s voice close to her ear.
‘Come… we need a quiet place.’
Brian and Hortense were watching the fireworks and there was now no sign of the girl who had been talking to Niko. Zach was still stranded in the crowd – so close and yet so hopelessly out of reach.
‘I think you will be glad to talk to me,’ Niko insisted.
Another moment’s hesitation, and then Esme gave a short nod. Whatever it was, she felt certain it was going to shed some much needed light on whatever the hell was going on here.
The temperature dropped noticeably as the crowd began to thin and soon they were standing on a street corner, away from the bustle but with the fireworks still cracking and popping above them in a blaze of colour, the odour of gunpowder strong on the icy air.
‘Will you walk?’ Niko asked. He seemed agitated, uncertain. Esme could hardly say she knew him well but she had never imagined that these emotions were even possible for him. It made her feel uncertain too. She didn’t want to leave the safety of the crowds and the fireworks, but she nodded anyway and followed as he led the way, taking her along the road that led back to her hotel.
‘Zach is my friend,’ he said, picking up where they’d left off.
‘I guessed that. He seems to like you. I hope he’s a friend to all of us – me and Hortense and Brian. We’re all very fond of him.’
‘He’s dear to me.’
Esme hesitated. What was that Hortense was always saying about the direct approach? From what Niko had said earlier, perhaps that direct approach wouldn’t be as difficult as she’d imagined – at least with him. ‘You like him as much more than a friend?’
Niko nodded slowly. ‘I think… you do too.’
Esme flushed. ‘I suppose I do.’
‘Then we are the same.’
‘But you two…’ she offered uncertainly. Come on, the direct approach, she reminded herself before beginning again. ‘You spent the night together.’
‘Sleeping,’ Niko said, in a voice that spoke of weariness at people’s assumptions. ‘I took the bed and Zach slept on the floor. We were drunk.’
Esme’s cheeks flared hotter still. Hadn’t she and Zach done exactly the same and managed it perfectly well without having sex? ‘I’m sorry, I thought…’
‘It doesn’t matter. I suppose it would be easy to imagine something else.’
‘I guess,’ she said with a self-conscious smile.
Niko nodded this time and faced the path ahead once more, seemingly content with the explanation. Or perhaps just not that interested after all. Then he spoke again.
‘He has been to Rovaniemi before. He told you this?’
‘He mentioned it.’
‘Did he tell you what happened?’
‘No. I only know he wasn’t here alone like he is this time.’
‘He came with his wife.’
Esme stopped dead. Niko was a few paces on before he turned to see her standing on the pavement staring at him and walked back to join her. He didn’t speak; he just waited for her to say something, but she didn’t know what to say. All she could do was run two words over and over in her head, unable to compute them.
His wife?
How could she have been so stupid? How could she have been taken in a second time? Did she have mug tattooed on her forehead? First Warren and Shelly and now Zach. How many more before she learned her lesson?
‘Well,’ she said coldly, beginning to walk again. ‘Thanks for telling me. He never mentioned his wife.’
‘It pains him to talk of her.’
At this the anger subsided almost as quickly as it had fired up. ‘Why?’ she asked after a pause.
‘I didn’t remember them at first,’ Niko continued. ‘But when you both arrived for your snowmobile lessons this week he came to talk to me. I see so many people come and go on their vacations… but then I remembered them because it had been their honeymoon and I’d shared a drink with them in their hotel after their lesson. They were nice and very much in love.’
‘So, where is she now?’
Niko turned to face her and they both came to a halt again, this time at his instigation. ‘She’s dead.’
Esme suddenly felt sick. All this time she’d sensed something was off but she’d never imagined it could be something so massive.
‘How…?’ Her throat was dry as she tried to get the question out. ‘How long has she been dead?’
‘I think for two years.’
‘So their original visit was a long time ago?’
‘Three years ago.’
‘Oh God!’
Esme’s eyes filled with tears. How could she have got this so wrong? She wanted to run and find Zach and fold her arms around him. She wanted to tell him it would be alright. But it wouldn’t be, would it? For Zach there would never be an alright. How did you move on from a loss like that? How did anyone help you?
‘So they were only married for a year? Do you know how…?’
Niko shook his head. ‘I did not ask too much. He wanted to talk and I was happy to listen.’
‘And I kissed him,’ she said, hardly realising that the words she’d run through her head had come out of her mouth.
‘He told me.’
Esme looked at him. ‘What did he say?’
‘He was angry.’
‘I know that much – he hasn’t spoken to me since.’
‘No, you misunderstand. He was angry with himself.’
‘With himself? Why would he be angry with himself? He didn’t do anything wrong – it was my fault…’
But Niko suddenly looked at a spot over her shoulder, his eyes wide. Esme turned, half expecting to see a furious Zach wanting to know why they’d been discussing him, but instead she saw a hooded figure and a fist fly past her. Niko swerved, simultaneously pulling her from harm’s way. The hooded man skidded on the icy pavement, thrown off balance by his miss, and when he turned to face Niko again for another try and she finally caught a glimpse of his face, Esme’s heart stopped.
His name frozen in her throat, she could only watch in numb shock as he swung for Niko again. It seemed, however, that Niko’s attacker hadn’t banked on a super-fit snowmobile instructor who was also a lot younger than him. The next thing Esme saw was Niko duck another punch, and then his own fist connecting squarely with his attacker’s jaw, sending him crashing to the ground.
Instinctively, Esme ran to the man now groaning on the floor.
‘Warren!’
Warren pushed himself to sit, glaring at Niko. Esme knelt on the snow beside him.
‘What… what are you doing here?’ She was incredulous, but somewhere beyond the shock of seeing him she’d always known he was capable of this. She just didn’t know how to feel about it.
‘I came to take you home,’ he said, struggling to get purchase on the ice and get back on his feet. But he slipped again.
‘But I’m coming home tomorrow anyway!’ Esme squeaked. ‘That’s ridiculous!’
‘Isn’t it a good thing I came?’ he said, ignoring her. ‘Now I see what’s been going on.’
‘No!’ Esme said quickly following Warren’s train of thought. She threw an anxious glance at Niko, who was still standing a couple of feet away, eyeing them warily. ‘It’s not like that!’
‘There had to be a reason you were being so cagey, and now I know,’ Warren said, his own darker glance settling on Niko.
‘No.’ Esme shook her head. ‘You’ve got it wrong! Niko’s just my friend!’
‘Yes, I can see that. Friendly is one way to describe it…’
‘Warren, please, you’ve got it wrong—’
Warren leapt to his feet this time, slipping and sliding but managing finally. He waved a dismissive hand at Esme to silence her, and Niko put his fists up in a defensive stance. Warren eyed him up, clearly appraising how he’d fare if he took another swing at him. Then Niko spoke to Esme, never taking his eyes from Warren.
‘You know this man?’
‘He’s my…’
‘Fiancé,’ Warren finished for her. ‘That’s the word you’re having so much trouble with.’ He looked back at Niko. ‘She’s mine.’
This time Niko looked at Esme when he spoke and in his expression there was a note of utter disbelief. ‘You are marrying him?’
‘No… yes…at least I was. It’s sort of complicated.’
Now Warren turned to stare at her in disbelief. ‘Is it?’
‘Warren, I…’ She hesitated. Why couldn’t she just say it? What was she so scared of? Nothing would be settled until she did and nobody could move on while they stayed in this limbo – least of all her. But then, perhaps this – here and now – this wasn’t the time or place to do it. Nobody deserved that sort of humiliation. She needed to get him somewhere private.
‘Warren, we need—’
Throwing Niko a look of pure loathing, Warren grabbed Esme by the wrist. She cried out in surprise. Niko made an uncertain move towards them but then stepped back at Esme’s pleading look. She didn’t need him to antagonise Warren any further. Niko might have survived one onslaught and he might yet survive another, but Warren was fit and strong from hours spent at the gym and she couldn’t take the chance that Niko might get injured.
‘We’re going home,’ Warren said, starting to walk and dragging Esme with him. But she dug her heels into the snow and held back. He rounded on her.
‘What it is now?’
‘Warren, we need to talk…’
‘We can talk all you like at home.’
‘Warren—’
Niko took a step towards them now, as if he might intervene, and Esme shot him another pleading look that she hoped he’d understand. This was a quarrel only she could resolve and she had to do it alone. He halted, tensed and he looked ready to step in at any moment, and Esme could only hope that he wouldn’t.
‘Stop messing around!’ Warren said, trying to walk again.
‘No!’
Her voice was steady and clear but her stomach churned and her legs shook.
‘You want to stay here with “your friend”?’ Warren stopped and turned to her now. ‘You think he’d still be that pretty if I rearranged his features? Would you still want to be “friends” then?’
‘We are not…’ Niko put in, but Warren silenced him with a look.
‘Niko’s not my boyfriend, if that’s what you’re getting at,’ Esme said, giving Niko a look that said she was grateful he’d had the sense to be quiet again. ‘Why can’t you ever just listen to me?’
‘You looked cosy enough to me.’
‘How can you say that – you didn’t see anything!’
‘I saw enough.’
‘That’s the trouble with you,’ Esme said, ‘you only see what you want to.’
He stared at her now, confused. ‘I saw my woman getting a bit too friendly with another bloke.’
‘I’m not yours! I’m not your property! I can talk to another human being if I want to!’
‘Yeah?’ He reached for her wrist again. ‘Well, you can talk to me on the plane.’
‘No!’ Esme yanked her arm free again. ‘I’m not coming.’
‘Esme, stop pissing about. It’s cost me an arm and a leg to come and fetch you and now you tell me you’re not coming back with me?’
‘Tomorrow, Warren. I’m coming back tomorrow, just like I’m supposed to. Not until then.’
He looked even more confused. ‘What am I supposed to do?’
‘You could wait until tomorrow if you’re so determined to travel with me.’
‘How the hell am I supposed to do that?’
‘I don’t know. I suppose you’ll just have to wait until the morning.’
‘Wait? Where?’
‘Have you booked a hotel?’
‘Why would I book a hotel?’
‘You thought I’d come straight back with you like a good, obedient girl? You thought I wouldn’t even question it?’ In days gone by Warren could have made such an assumption safely. He’d have told her to jump and she would have got a pad to write down his height requirements. But not anymore.
‘You’re not coming then?’ he asked, looking as if the conversation was rapidly losing him. Perhaps it was – Warren wasn’t used to people telling him no.
Esme turned to Niko now. ‘Know any good hotels?’
‘Plenty,’ Niko said with a wry smile of his own. ‘But with vacancies tonight – I would be very doubtful of that.’
Esme chewed on her lip for a moment. Then she turned to Warren. ‘If you want to travel with me tomorrow then you’ll have to stay with me tonight. In the spare bed in my room,’ she added quickly. ‘I suppose it would give us time to talk anyway.’
‘What about the flight I booked for us?’
‘What about it?’
‘We’ll miss it.’
‘I’ve told you – catch yours if you want to, but mine’s wasted money, I’m afraid, because I intend to keep my original booking. Perhaps the airline will let you change yours if you want to stay the night. Perhaps they’ll let you have a refund for mine. If you’re not happy with any of that, there’s not a lot I can do about it. The offer of a bed is there, but if you really feel strongly that you want to go back tonight then I’m not going to stop you.’
‘You’d let me fly alone?’
‘I don’t know how you expected anything else. I did tell you on the phone that I wouldn’t come home early.’
Warren opened his mouth to speak but then clamped it shut again. He glowered at her, a look of fury that would have had her changing her mind in days gone by. But she wasn’t backing down tonight. Wasn’t she Matilda Greenwood’s granddaughter? Esme had no idea where that girl had been hiding for the past few years but she was here now and things were going to be different.
‘I can’t afford another ticket for tomorrow!’ Warren whined, changing tack to try to persuade Esme to back down. ‘I’ve spent everything I have getting here already!’
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t help with that. Maybe you should have taken more notice of what I’d said on the phone before you made the booking.’
Esme began to walk. She’d wanted to hear more from Niko about Zach, and then she’d wanted to find Zach and hear it all in his words and maybe set things straight between the two of them, armed with a new understanding of all he’d been through. But now Warren was here and she couldn’t do any of that. All she could do was try to sort one mess at a time, starting with the one that was currently watching her leave, stubbornly refusing to accept a version of her that he’d never known.
‘I’ll walk with you!’ Niko called. He jogged to catch up, and that was enough to have Warren dashing to her other side.
‘Back off!’ he growled.
‘Warren…’ Esme turned to him. ‘I can assure you that Niko is not remotely interested in me.’
‘I might be interested in you, however,’ Niko said with a mocking smile.
‘If you weren’t making yourself look like such an arse right now,’ Esme added.
Niko’s smile became a grin, showing a flash of that old, carefree charm again, while Warren looked confused and then horrified. He was such an alpha male it was almost laughable.
‘Niko…’ Esme said gently. ‘While I appreciate the sentiment, I really need to talk to Warren. Alone. So you don’t need to worry about me – go back to the fireworks and enjoy the last hour.’
‘But—’
‘I’ll be fine – honestly. There’s no need to worry.’
‘Where are you going?’ Niko asked, throwing a look of deepest distrust at Warren.
‘The simplest thing would be to go back to my hotel for a bit of quiet. And maybe a glass or two of lakka.’
Niko grinned again. ‘Zach said you liked it.’
Warren’s expression had eased as Esme had talked of taking him back to the hotel, but then it tensed again.
‘Who’s Zach?’
‘My lover,’ Niko said, and Esme gave a grateful smile for the white lie that had perhaps come just a little too easily to him. He turned back to Esme, who nodded to reassure him that she’d be OK. Then, with a last glance at Warren, he turned on his heel and started back to the fireworks party. She and Warren headed in the opposite direction, and as they walked she half imagined that every few yards Niko would turn and check on her, but she didn’t look back to see.