A Swedish Christmas Fairy Tale

by Amanda Radley

  She looked around and saw the perfect establishment. It had comfortable chairs and was large enough that it could swallow a lot of people and not feel crowded. As they reached the top of the escalator, she took Emilia’s arm and guided her towards the coffee shop. She could feel how tense Emilia was through her thick jacket and the sweater.

  Once inside, she led the way towards the back of the shop and gestured for Emilia to sit down in a soft tub chair. She took off her scarf and jacket and looked over to the counter.

  “What can I get you? Tea? Do you want some food?”

  Emilia’s glazed eyes looked at the counter and then up at the menu.

  Amber’s heart panged with guilt. Emilia was so far out of her comfort zone that she was having difficulty operating. She couldn’t believe the sacrifice Emilia had made in order for them to do something Amber enjoyed. As much as she hated the cold from the previous day, she knew it paled in comparison to how Emilia was coping with the stress of a busy mall.

  Emilia agreed to the idea of tea, and Amber hurried off to get it. As she queued, she kept an eye on Emilia at the back of the café. As time went by and she slowly got closer to being served, she was relieved to see Emilia appear to calm down. Her eyes no longer raced along the crowds outside the shop, and she relaxed her posture a little.

  Amber bought a couple of traditional Swedish cakes—one foul-coloured green thing and one innocent-looking pastry. She suspected that Emilia would feel a little better after some sugar. Plus, while Emilia got herself together, Amber could take some time to look at her phone, to see how much the world had changed in the last couple of days. It felt like it had been a month.

  She grabbed one of the free papers on her return and set everything up on the table.

  “Cakes?” Emilia asked. She looked happy at their appearance.

  “Soaking up the culture,” Amber said.

  Emilia explained what both of the cakes were called, and Amber decided she’d continue to call them the green thing and the pastry thing.

  She was beyond pleased to see that Emilia looked much improved and was communicating again. She decided to give them both some more time before hitting the shops.

  “I’m sorry to be rude, but I really need to check my emails,” Amber said as she got her phone out of her pocket and put it on the table. She handed Emilia the paper. “Do you mind if we sit and hang out here for a while?”

  As she’d expected, a look of relief washed over Emilia’s face.

  “Of course, if you need to work, then we will stay here as long as you need.” Emilia happily started reading the paper.

  Amber wasn’t about to explain that emails weren’t just for work. She was just happy that Emilia had recuperated and that she had some time to be on her phone.

  20

  Spiralling

  Emilia walked around the bookstore with a stack of books piled high in her hands. She wasn’t entirely comfortable being at the busy mall, but frequent stops in quieter shops were making her feel better.

  She suspected that Amber hadn’t really wanted to go into the bookstore. After all, why would she? All of the books were in a foreign language. It must have been like going into a candy shop after visiting the dentist to have your mouth wired closed.

  And yet Amber had insisted, right around the time that Emilia was finding the clothing shop they were in a little overwhelming. Like she somehow knew. Emilia hoped she wasn’t that transparent. She wanted Amber to have a good time and not worry about her too much.

  But she had to confess that she was loving the bookshop.

  She looked up and saw Amber strolling around, picking up books and looking at their covers momentarily before putting them down again. She was obviously giving Emilia time and space to collect herself and feel better.

  It was working. She felt safe surrounded by books, many of which she hadn’t read before. Her local bookstore was small. The newsletter of new releases was sufficient, but nothing was like walking around a large shop. She’d quickly stacked six books up in her hands and considered them necessary purchases. A couple more followed after a few minutes.

  The rumbling cacophony of the hordes of shoppers sat just outside the doors. She tried to tune it out, to no avail. She’d known it would be busy and horrible at the mall, but nothing could have prepared her for how bad it was.

  During the car journey she had felt near to a panic attack. With every passing mile that she travelled, her breathing had become more laboured. She pulled herself together as best she could for Amber’s sake. She had promised that they would have a nice day shopping in the warmth, and that was exactly what she intended to do. Anxiety be damned.

  A book was added to the pile in her hands.

  “I think you’ll like this one,” Amber said. “It’s got a lot of twists and turns, I won’t spoil it.”

  “Thank you.” She peered at the top of the stack, interested to see what Amber would suggest for her. It looked like a cosy mystery book, something she enjoyed immensely. Especially when they contained recipes.

  “Would you like some help carrying those?” Amber asked.

  Emilia looked at the books on the tables and then the books in her hands. She had many more tables to visit before she was done. She would certainly run out of space in her arms before then.

  “Yes, please.”

  Amber took the majority of the pile from her.

  “I’m sorry, this must be very boring for you,” she apologised.

  “Not at all. I like looking at all the translations and seeing what changed regarding the covers. Or when things stayed exactly the same. I’m sure that sounds strange to you.”

  “Not at all. Many of the books I read are released in English first, so it’s interesting to see what happens if it goes on to be translated.”

  “Great, I’ll leave you to it. I’m going to see what’s hot in YA,” Amber said as she departed with a smile.

  Emilia wasn’t sure that Amber was as interested as she claimed, but she appreciated the sentiment. A while longer in the security of the soft furnishings and jazz playlist and she’d hopefully be feeling rejuvenated and ready to move on to the next store.

  A loud noise outside caused her to jump. She looked around and noticed it was a group of teenagers dressed up in Christmas hats, shouting and laughing. She took a few deep breaths. She hoped that the shopping visit would soon be declared a success by Amber and that they could leave.

  She just needed to keep it together a while longer.

  Lunch was frantic. Everyone in the mall had decided to eat around the same time, and every single eatery was packed with people. In the end, Amber had sat Emilia at a table in the only café with space and gone to queue.

  Emilia gripped her scarf in her hands, watching as people with trays milled around the restaurant looking for a spare table. She hated being at an empty table. She wondered if people thought she was rude for sitting there. Or worse, if someone was going to ask to sit with her. It wasn’t a very Swedish thing to do, but external influences were changing people’s perceptions. Or maybe a tourist would come and sit with her. Maybe someone chatty.

  She shivered.

  She looked at the queue and willed it to move quicker. She wanted Amber with her. The whole day had been rescued by Amber knowing what she needed and providing it for her. Somehow Amber could detect when she was starting to lose control and quickly swooped in and made everything better, without even saying anything.

  Real panic was starting to seep in. Emilia was finding it difficult to get enough breath, and her lungs felt sore from the effort and lack of oxygen. She let go of her scarf and gripped the table, needing something more solid to hold on to.

  Oh no, not now.

  It had been years since she’d had a full-blown panic attack. Not that she could remember it. She’d been out with Hugo, and the next thing she knew, she was at home. She’d passed out cold, her body just shut down to save her from herself.

  She was spiralling. Just the th
ought of having a panic attack made her anxiety ratchet up several notches, which she knew brought the whole likelihood of passing out that much closer.

  Her vision was starting to lose focus, and black started to creep in around the edges. She slammed her eyes closed and held on to the table. She wondered if she’d flop onto the table or knock the whole thing over when she did finally collapse.

  “Hey.” The voice sounded familiar but so distant.

  She felt arms wrap around her, keeping her upright.

  “Emilia, can you open your eyes for me?”

  It was only then that she realised her eyes were tightly scrunched closed. She focused as hard as she could on the simple task of opening her eyes. After a few long moments, she managed to open them just enough to let a little of the bright light in.

  She winced. She could feel her brow was furrowed, causing a headache to start.

  “I think we should go home.”

  Emilia looked at the woman sitting beside her, arms still wrapped solidly around her.

  Amber, she remembered. Home. She felt relieved at the thought.

  “Do you think you’re okay to walk?”

  Emilia didn’t know.

  She noticed a man approaching her. Suddenly Amber was in a conversation with him, but she couldn’t make out any of the words. She burrowed her face in the tall collar of her jacket, hoping to shy away from the attention she must have been drawing to herself.

  She wanted to be home. She wished she had never left. She started to gasp for breath. Everything was fading in and out and suddenly… it was black.

  21

  Pizza Fixes Everything

  Amber drove slowly back to Emilia’s farmhouse on the edge of the city. Every now and then she glanced over at the sleeping woman beside her to make sure she was okay.

  She’d left the queue at the café when she noticed that Emilia had gone deathly pale and was looking faint. It was only a few minutes later when the inevitable had happened and Emilia blacked out in her arms.

  Luckily a doctor happened to be shopping at the time and rushed to the rescue. While Amber was talking with him, Emilia had slackened. She was heavier than she looked, and Amber was grateful that the doctor helped her to save Emilia from hitting the floor.

  Emilia came around quickly but was still out of it. The doctor had quickly agreed with Amber’s diagnosis of exhaustion and generally being overwhelmed. He’d kindly helped Amber walk Emilia to the car and even left his business card in case she needed to contact him later.

  As soon as they were in the car, Emilia had fallen asleep. Amber couldn’t blame her, she must have been exhausted. If she were honest with herself, she was drained as well.

  The moment she realised that Emilia was going to pass out—and had thankfully caught her slim body in an awkward bearhug—she realised something. Emilia meant something to her.

  She meant more than the contract which had impossibly slipped her mind on more than one occasion. At some point it had morphed from a business relationship to a friendship… and maybe even more. Seeing Emilia struggle with her fears had been difficult and Amber had wanted to sweep her into a hug and protect her from the modern world which she obviously found so disturbing.

  She’d been around people with anxiety before, but nothing as serious as the symptoms Emilia was exhibiting. She was still uncertain what the root cause of the anxiety was, and knew she was not qualified to diagnose it herself. Whatever it was, it was clearly a lot more debilitating than Amber had first realised.

  She wondered if Emilia had always suffered with crippling anxiety, if that was the reason for her reclusive lifestyle. Or had refusing to leave the house made the anxiety worse? Without knowing more about Emilia and her history, it was impossible to say.

  She felt to blame. Without her presence, Emilia would never have found herself in the shopping mall. She would have been happily walking around her beloved lake and identifying distant birdcalls.

  Emilia let out a groan. Amber indicated and quickly pulled the car over to the side of the road.

  “Hey, welcome back.” She turned to regard Emilia, sitting back to give her some room as her eyes flickered opened.

  Emilia looked around the car in confusion, her eyes wild and unfocused.

  “Var är jag?”

  Amber had never felt so useless in all her life. Emilia was scared and in need of comfort, and the only Swedish phrase she had managed to learn was God Jul. Wishing her a Merry Christmas now wasn’t going to help.

  She ignored the language switch and hoped that Emilia would be able to cope with speaking English. “How are you feeling?”

  Emilia looked at her, her eyes slowly becoming less wild. Realisation seemed to set in. She looked around the car, and a deep blush started up her throat and onto her cheeks.

  “Did I faint?”

  “You did,” Amber confirmed. She handed over a bottle of water. “Have a drink.”

  Emilia grasped the bottle in both hands and took a small sip. “I’m so sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

  “I must have made a terrible scene.”

  “Not really. Everyone was too busy Christmas shopping to care about what you were doing. And a really hunky doctor literally leapt to our rescue. He vaulted over a bench, it was great.”

  Emilia started to smile. “You’re just being kind.”

  “No, seriously, he was buff. He must live in the gym. He offered to carry you but then you woke up and were able to walk so, you know, bad timing on your part.”

  Emilia started to laugh. “I don’t remember.”

  “Never mind,” Amber reassured her. She wasn’t surprised Emilia couldn’t remember. She’d been in a complete daze as she leant into Amber and allowed herself to be led to the car.

  Emilia looked around. “We’re going home?”

  “We are. I got the hunky doctor to carry your books and my bags and now we’re heading home. Satnav says we’re about twenty minutes away.” She pointed to the screen.

  “I am sorry,” Emilia repeated.

  “Seriously, there’s no need to be sorry. But you and I do need to start learning to communicate. I promise to tell you when I’m freezing to death if you promise to tell me when you’re feeling overwhelmed. I know crowds can be a bit much. You don’t need to try to be a hero.”

  She looked at her seriously, wishing Emilia would understand that she wasn’t in any way angry or disappointed. In fact, she was concerned. Emilia had quickly become very important to her and seeing her suffer had been difficult to say the least.

  Amber was fighting the instinct to wrap her arms around Emilia and hold her close and tell her that everything would be okay.

  “I feel very silly,” Emilia confessed, refusing to make eye contact as she studied the dashboard.

  Amber’s heart broke. Emilia was so sweet and open with her feelings. She didn’t know if it was a fundamental part of her persona, or the fact that she had grown up in such a small and insular world that she had never learnt any different. Whatever the reason, it was adorable.

  She’d struggled to admit when she wasn’t feeling well, but that was solely for Amber’s benefit. Putting Amber’s wishes above her own health. That aside, Emilia was often an open book.

  “You don’t need to feel silly. You couldn’t control it. And truth be told, I could tell you were suffering a little beforehand and I didn’t do enough to make sure that you were okay. So, technically, I’m silly.”

  “You’re not sill—”

  Amber held up her hand. “No, I refuse to have a debate with you about who is the silliest. Not until you have shown me where that local pizzeria is.”

  “Pizza?”

  “Well, we both know that I can’t cook, but I can buy dinner. And I think you need a nice, big, greasy pizza to make you feel better. We can take it home and eat it on a plate like a grown-up. Best of both worlds.”

  Emilia seemed to agree with that, slowly nodding her head. She stil
l looked so young and lost. Amber promised herself that she would dote on Emilia that evening. If she didn’t, who would?

  22

  A Quiet Evening In

  “Should we?” Emilia asked. She bit her lip and looked down at the pizza box in her hand and then up at the fireplace.

  “It’s your house, you can do whatever you like,” Amber said.

  Emilia technically knew that was true, but she’d never eaten dinner in front of the fire before. She’d never eaten dinner from a box rather than a plate. It was like breaking multiple unwritten rules all at once.

  The very thought of sitting at the brightly lit dining table and having to get out plates and cutlery was just too much. When Amber had casually suggested eating in front of the fire, it was like Emilia’s world had been tilted. Again. But this time it was a good tilt, this time it was in the name of comfort. And what she really needed right now was comfort.

  “Okay!” she decided. She handed her pizza box to Amber. “I’ll be right back. Please, start eating.”

  She rushed away, eager to get out of her clothes and into something more comfortable. In particular, she wanted to get into her comfortable woollen socks that her grandmother had made for her mother years ago. They were a slice of home that always made her feel better no matter what the day had brought her.

  It only took her a couple of minutes to throw her clothes on the bedroom floor and dress herself in comfortable jeans, a baggy sweater, and her favourite woollen socks. She bounded down the stairs again and into the living room.

  Amber had pushed the coffee table to one side and was sitting on the rug with two pizza boxes and two cans of soda beside her. Emilia quickly joined her, pulling a thin blanket over her shoulders, more for comfort than to keep out any chill.

  “Nice socks,” Amber said with a smirk.