The Christmas Wish: A heartwarming Christmas romance

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘You could have gone, you know.’

  ‘I could have done, but right now I have a feeling I’m needed here. He’s OK with it, and it’s not like he’s short of friends.’

  Esme smiled. He’d put Niko off for her, and the thought warmed her more than the lakka.

  * * *

  Esme opened her eyes. For a second she stared at Zach, sleeping on the bed beside her. His arm was draped across her collarbone and his shirt was partially unbuttoned in a failed attempt to remove it. Esme craned to look down at herself and was relieved to see that she was fully clothed and that they’d both slept on top of the bedcovers. She looked at Zach again. There was no denying that his breath had smelt better, but still, he looked…

  She pushed the feeling away – no good could come of it. And while she could have happily watched him sleep all day, Mother Nature had other ideas, and she suddenly realised that if she didn’t get to the bathroom soon they’d have more immediate problems than the aftermath of getting inappropriately drunk. Delicately, she tried to move his arm and, managing to do it without waking him, sat up.

  OK, so there was the headache – cracking across her skull as she changed her position. If this was the same hangover Zach had been blessed with after his night with Niko then no wonder he’d needed time in a dark room to recover.

  Sliding from the bed she padded through to the bathroom, clicking the door gently shut. After doing the necessary, she leaned on the sink and, while she waited for it to fill, inspected her reflection. The same as yesterday, but different. Almost certainly rougher, but that wasn’t the only change, though she couldn’t pinpoint what the change was. Shaking her head, she turned off the taps and plunged her face into the water. As she dried herself, there was a knock on the bathroom door.

  ‘Esme, I need to…’

  Esme opened up and before she’d had time to move he squeezed past, straight to the toilet where he dropped to his knees and hugged the bowl. Not wanting or needing to see any more for fear of a chain reaction, Esme hurried out and tried not to listen.

  When Zach came out again his face and hair were wet and he gave her a weak smile.

  ‘I’m sorry, I just… you know.’

  ‘Honestly, I’m amazed it wasn’t me. I must have a high tolerance to cloudberries or something because I’m usually always sick when I’ve drank too much.’

  ‘I have to say I’m impressed.’

  ‘Don’t be – it’s hardly a talent at all.’

  ‘What time is it?’ he asked, massaging a hand through his hair.

  ‘Breakfast time.’

  Zach sat on the bed. ‘Oh God – don’t mention food to me.’

  ‘Not even a nice bowl of pickled herring?’

  ‘Please!’ Zach held up a hand and Esme giggled. From her toiletry bag she produced a blister pack of aspirins, and after taking two she handed him the same.

  ‘Always prepared,’ she said as he gave her a grateful look.

  By the time she’d returned with a glass of aired water from the bathroom tap Zach had already swallowed his straight down.

  ‘Thanks.’ Esme swallowed down her pills with the water.

  ‘For giving you a hangover or for letting you see me in all my barfing glory?’

  ‘For staying with me. I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much I needed last night.’

  ‘Then I’m glad to have been of service. So, do you know what you’re doing?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  Esme couldn’t quite recall how much detail she’d shared with Zach the previous night. Past their fourth shot of lakka it had all got a bit fuzzy. She seemed to recall laughing a lot, crying once or twice, and Zach almost telling her something that he then seemed to think better of. He mentioned his last visit to Lapland a few times and being here with someone else who was no longer in his life. Just like all the other times he’d hinted at something big, something not good, Esme’s courage had failed and she hadn’t dared to ask him. Then the conversation had got too drunk to be anything but silly and at some point she now had no recollection of, they must have decided to sleep together. Literally. As in just going to bed and sleeping. It must have been nice because Esme hadn’t felt weird or guilty about it, and there had been no regrets on waking up. In fact, his arms looked rather inviting right now and she wondered how he’d react if she asked to go back to bed. To sleep. So she did.

  He smiled, and he opened his arms, and they snuggled down, this time under the covers, and before she knew it, Esme had drifted off, listening to his heartbeat.

  Eighteen

  ‘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 w
as 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.