The Christmas Wish: A heartwarming Christmas romance

by Tilly Tennant

  The smile he returned now was rather less bright than hers. ‘Card game.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘With Niko. Shots of something… I don’t know what but it explains why everyone who lives here doesn’t freeze to death. Anyone with that amount of alcohol in their veins couldn’t freeze even if they were on Pluto.’

  ‘So I suppose you’re heading straight back to bed after breakfast?’

  ‘I haven’t been to bed yet.’

  Esme stared at him.

  ‘I mean I’ve been back here for a few hours but I haven’t slept. We raided the minibar in my room. Niko’s up there now sleeping it off.’

  ‘He’s in your bedroom?’

  ‘Yep.’ Zach swallowed a large mouthful of coffee. ‘I’m never getting talked into that again.’

  ‘Right. Sounds like a good idea.’

  ‘Where’s Romeo and Juliet?’

  ‘They haven’t come down yet. I expect they haven’t been to sleep yet either. I’m beginning to feel very boring with you lot around.’

  Zach’s cup rattled in his saucer as he put it down. ‘That’s one thing you’re definitely not. Anyway, I’d take boring over this headache right now.’

  Even in his delicate state, he gave her that smile, the one she already loved, and she had to remind herself that now he wasn’t just off limits, but not even in her marketplace.

  ‘What are you doing today?’ he asked.

  ‘We’ve got the Northern Lights chase.’

  ‘Not until eight-thirty this evening. We’ve got a whole day to fill until then.’

  ‘I don’t know yet. I suppose you’re going to sleep.’

  ‘If I can get Niko out of my bed. He didn’t seem very amenable to that earlier on.’

  ‘You could use mine. For an hour if you needed to – I wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘But it’s your bed. Wouldn’t that be…?’

  ‘There are twin beds in my room and I’m only using one.’

  ‘Oh God, I forgot. Your grandma. I’m so sorry, Esme…’

  ‘Don’t be daft. All I mean is that it’s no imposition at all.’

  Zach looked torn. ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’ll probably go for a walk. I meant to go yesterday before I got press-ganged into the snowmobile thing. At home I walk all the time and I get itchy feet when I can’t get out.’

  ‘It’d just be for an hour or so.’

  ‘I know. Go, you look like death so take as long as you need.’ She fished in her pocket. ‘I have a spare key – you take it and let yourself in. I’ll see you later.’

  Zach took the key from her and offered a grateful smile in return. ‘You’re amazing – you know that?’

  ‘It’s just a key.’ Esme laughed. ‘Now go and get some sleep and learn your lesson for next time.’

  ‘Already learned, ma’am,’ he said, getting up from the table. ‘An hour, tops. I’ll set my alarm.’

  ‘As long as you need,’ Esme reminded him. ‘It honestly makes no difference to me.’

  * * *

  People didn’t care about the cold in Rovaniemi. At least, nobody was complaining. Every face wore a smile spread across rosy cheeks and topped with a cherry-red nose, and eyes that peered out from beneath woolly hats with wonder at every corner of Santa’s home town. Here, it was easy to believe that Father Christmas was real, and Esme was quite sure that at least ninety-nine per cent of the population that lived here all year believed that too. As for the tourists, young or old they were sold on the idea. You couldn’t set foot in Rovaniemi and not be.

  Esme decided to do a small circuit of the town. The pavements had been cleared that morning and she hadn’t needed the snowshoes that the hotel loaned out. It was Finnish Lapland’s capital, but that didn’t make it any less quaint, and it was hardly the size of anything more than a market town back in England. The architecture in the main shopping area was a strange mix of low sixties blocks and more traditional wooden housing, while the town-hall square had grand terraced buildings that looked perhaps Victorian – there was even a modern mall with a slick glass tower – but blanketed in fresh snow, everything looked utterly charming regardless. Fairy lights were strung across the streets in a dazzling display and every building was festooned in tinsel and yet more lights. There seemed to be music everywhere too, and a general thrum of excitement that appeared to resonate on every street.

  She noticed a huge queue outside a wooden lodge and she heard someone say they were waiting to see Santa. Suddenly she was five again, waiting at the tinselled curtains of the department-store grotto of her childhood, hand enveloped in her dad’s, giddy with excitement, and for a moment she almost joined this queue. But she’d look silly, a grown woman waiting to see Santa by herself. Instead, she moved on, relishing the memories of Christmases past.

  There were gift shops galore. She’d already bought the few gifts she’d needed to get for family before deciding she was coming here, but they were too cute to walk past. There were shops selling traditional sweets and candies – peppermint sticks, cough sweets, sugared almonds and candied fruit. She spent a while savouring the multicoloured displays, wondering what her mum and dad might like, but in the end decided it wasn’t worth trying to get it all home and, besides, she’d already bought enough Christmas chocolates to go with their gifts to sink a schooner, so she bought a bag of chocolate-coated raisins for herself and moved on. They were succulent and moreish, and she quickly lost any sense of guilt she might have had for the calories in them.

  There was a little shop full of jewellery and trinkets, and Esme spent some time here looking at bits for various friends and family back home but, again, jewellery was such a personal gift that it was hard to know what people would wear, even when she knew them well. They didn’t really have anything that looked typical of the region either, and if she was going to buy something like this for herself then she wanted it to be something that would remind her of Rovaniemi. So, tempting as it was to stay here a while, Esme tore herself away from this store too.

  Then the idea struck her that it might be nice to buy something for her new friends. It was Christmas, after all, and they’d all been so kind to her and so welcoming that it would be nice to show her appreciation. After all, this week felt significant somehow, like when she looked back on it she’d see it as a turning point in her life, and the people she was sharing it with would play their part, she was certain. It only needed to be a token gift, and Esme didn’t need any more of an excuse to continue shopping.

  Half a block away she came across the perfect store. A Christmas-cum-general souvenir store. Some of it was tacky – there was no getting away from that. But some of the goods on display inside were locally produced artisan crafty bits – at least, they were labelled in such a way to convince the tourists. But, as Esme inspected some heavy woollen mittens and thick, hand-knitted socks adorned with geometric designs and drawstrings around the top, they looked rustic enough. They looked useful too, and her eye was drawn to a pair of leather, fur-lined slippers – they looked wacky and ethnic enough that Hortense would probably love them. Until she saw the price and quickly plumped for the socks instead. She was sure Hortense would love these too and they wouldn’t bankrupt her.

  On a stand next to them were some men’s sizes, and Esme wondered if it might be cute to buy Hortense and Brian matching his and hers. Was that a little presumptuous of their relationship status? Did it assume they’d stay together long enough to appreciate the suitability of matching his and hers socks? Maybe, but still she thought if anyone would have a sense of humour about it, Brian and Hortense would. She decided they’d have a giggle and picked up the men’s pair too.

  Which just left Zach. Zach, who was so difficult to read, whom she’d seemed to have gotten so wrong so far. If she’d bought gifts for Hortense and Brian then it was only fair not to leave Zach out, but what would he make of it? What could she buy for a man she barely knew? She wandered round and round the displays, socks clutched to her
chest as she studied everything from money boxes featuring Santa to encourage saving for Christmas to paring knives made from deer antler. Nothing seemed right.

  ‘Can I help you?’

  Esme looked round to see a lady wearing a leather apron with the name of the shop on the front smiling at her.

  ‘Oh. I’m looking for a gift.’

  ‘Anything in particular?’

  ‘Well, that’s just the problem. It’s for… well, someone I don’t know that well. We’re here on holiday together. Not together, actually, but with each other. In the same tour party. And we’ve only just met but we’ve become friends. So I wanted to buy something to remind him of our holiday together. With each other, I mean. On the tour…’

  Esme took a breath and felt the heat rise to her face. She was rambling and she knew it. But she probably sounded crazy buying a gift for a person she’d just met on holiday. If the woman thought so, however, she didn’t show it.

  ‘That’s a lovely thought,’ she said. ‘And everyone knows it’s the thought that matters. I’m sure he will be touched by whatever you decide to buy. Do you have a budget? I could perhaps make some suggestions.’

  The dreaded question. She’d either sound like a cheapskate or someone who was spending far too much money on a person she didn’t know and might never see again. However, she did want the perfect gift. For some reason it mattered to her.

  ‘I’m not really sure. I think if I find the right thing then I’ll consider the price. I don’t want to restrict myself by settling on a price because I might miss something perfect that’s out of budget.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. I see you already have some of our traditionally made garments. Are they for him too?’

  ‘Oh, they’re for some other friends on the tour. I don’t think these would be his sort of thing at all.’

  The woman nodded. ‘Does he like sports? Or games? We have some traditional board games for sale.’

  ‘I don’t know. He hasn’t really said, but I don’t think I’ll risk it.’

  ‘What about his dress? Perhaps he wears smart shirts and would like some cufflinks?’

  ‘A bit personal, to be honest. I don’t really know if I’d get his taste right.’

  The woman nodded.

  ‘You’re very patient,’ Esme said.

  She smiled. ‘It’s my job to help customers find the right gift. After all, here in the home of Father Christmas it’s more important than anywhere.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Esme said with a smile. ‘I was thinking maybe something to remind him of his trip here.’

  ‘A souvenir?’

  ‘Yes, but…’ Esme’s gaze went to a display of garish T-shirts and baseball caps. Would it be rude to point them out as a perfect example of what she didn’t want?

  ‘You would like to look at the souvenir items there?’

  ‘Actually, no. I don’t think they’re his sort of thing at all. Maybe if you have something more… subtle. More of a keepsake.’

  The woman was thoughtful for a minute. Then she said, ‘I have something. Please follow me.’

  She led Esme to a shelf behind the counter and took something down, winding it in her hands for a few seconds before placing it in Esme’s palm. A broad smile lit Esme’s face as the snow globe began to turn, playing a tinkling classical tune that seemed to sound like gentle snowfall. Inside the globe there was a perfect model of Rovaniemi, complete with houses and trees and hills all in silver and glitter swirling in the water, settling on the tiny town.

  ‘You like it?’ the woman said.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ Esme said, gazing at it as the music began to slow. Then it stopped and she handed it back. ‘I don’t know. Does it seem a bit…?’

  ‘I can show you more things?’ the woman said.

  Esme nodded. ‘If you don’t mind.’

  So they went to look at more souvenirs, but nothing she saw could erase the enchanting vision of the little snow globe and the music that seemed to capture the very essence of Lapland, and the more she thought about it, the more she didn’t care if it was the right thing to buy Zach or not. It probably wasn’t, but it somehow felt like the right thing – though she couldn’t explain why. But then, what would he make of it? Would he think she was a little crazy buying him a gift when she hardly knew him? Brian and Hortense was one thing, but would a gift for Zach be seen to come with subtext? Would he see it as a romantic come-on?

  ‘I’m sorry but I really can’t decide about this. I’ll just take the socks for now and I might come back when I’m sure.’

  The woman nodded. ‘No problem – I will wrap the other things for you now.’

  * * *

  Esme had spent a lot longer than she’d planned shopping, but she was happy with her purchases as she left the souvenir store. Out of habit, however, she looked at her phone. It had crashed again in the sub-zero temperatures outside but she’d felt strangely calm about its uselessness this morning. No phone meant no stress from Warren, no hyperventilating over angry messages, nothing to feel guilty about. She was almost back to her old self, the self she’d found living with her grandma. She put it away again and her attention was caught by the bright window of a bakery, with row upon row of lavishly iced cakes, comforting puddings and delicate pastries, and they looked too good to resist. Despite the big bag of raisins she’d devoured earlier, trudging around the shops on icy pavements had been harder than she could have imagined and she’d worked up a serious appetite. Not to mention that she could take comfort in the nugget of wisdom that Niko had cheerfully imparted to them on the snowmobile safari – he’d said that it was a known scientific fact that the human body burned calories faster in colder climates in an attempt to create more heat. If it was good enough for Niko, then it was good enough for her, even if it had been a little white lie designed to get the kids eating the reindeer sausages. So she went in and bought a cinnamon bun and a traditional gingerbread cookie called a piparkakku, and ate both outside on the frozen pavement, one hand gradually going numb without its glove, and she felt a more delicious guilt than she had over the raisins in the amount of calories that had slipped down so easily.

  Eventually her nose was dripping and she’d lost the feeling in her lips and her thoughts turned to Zach. Maybe she ought to check he was OK and get warm back at the hotel in the process. After all, he’d looked pretty rough and he’d had a lot to drink the night before. And if he was OK, then she could entertain herself by teasing him mercilessly for his folly.

  She took a moment to get her bearings and had to ask for directions before she finally headed back. Snow was falling again, drifts growing fat on the pavements as fast as they’d been cleared, hampering her progress.

  At the hotel, she fumbled with the key in the lock, weighed down by outdoor clothes and shopping, and the door creaked open. The room was in darkness and she felt her way to the lamp, a small halo of light spreading into the shadowed corners. Zach was still sleeping on the spare bed, his breathing deep and regular and his expression content. He looked as if he’d barely stirred at all and he’d clearly forgotten to set his alarm as he’d said he would. She could wake him, but it felt like a mean thing to do when he was so peacefully asleep. She could save her ribbing for later.

  She sat on her own bed and pulled off her boots and coat before stowing her shopping bag beneath it, her eyes never leaving him. He was shirtless and the covers had worked their way down. His perfectly sculpted chest had always been buried under layers of thick sweaters and brushed cotton shirts, and she’d never really appreciated just how pleasing it was. There was a scar at his shoulder, faintly visible, a neat straight line and a series of tiny dots. Some sort of surgery, perhaps? Esme reached out to touch it but then yanked her hand back, nursing it as if she’d burnt it, her face flushed.

  The hotel kept the heating running at a high temperature and it meant that whenever she stepped inside her outdoor clothes were immediately too big and clumsy. Already she felt sticky. Maybe she’d ki
ll a bit of time by quietly freshening up so he could rest a while longer.

  Pulling a clean top from the wardrobe, she unravelled her scarf and flung it onto her bed, followed by her jumper and thermal vest. In her bra, she crept into the bathroom and splashed some cool water over her face and neck before burying herself in the soft hotel towel.

  As she lifted her face from it, the bathroom door opened and a bleary-eyed Zach stumbled in. But his eyes widened instantly as he saw her standing there.

  ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realise you were back!’

  Esme blushed, pulling the towel around her bra. She gave a nervous laugh as Zach turned and rushed out.

  ‘It’s OK!’ she called. When he didn’t come back she went through to the bedroom. ‘You need the bathroom?’

  ‘I was… I’ll go in my own room.’

  ‘Don’t be silly – that’s on the next floor! Use mine.’

  ‘But you’re…’

  ‘I was just getting changed but I can do it while you’re in the bathroom.’

  Zach looked as if he might argue but then he nodded. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said again as he passed her.

  Esme smiled as he closed the door behind him. She heard the tap running and the sounds of splashing water and guessed he’d been getting a little overheated too. There was something quite liberating about standing in front of a man half naked and not having him size you up. If he was embarrassed about the situation, that was sweet, but it wasn’t necessary for him to feel awkward when there was no sexual temptation. She wondered how best to relay that to him without making things even more awkward but eventually decided that the best course of action might be to let things blow over in their own time and not mention the incident again.