“How… how do you know if you… love someone?” she asked.
He frowned. “Like… love? Do you think?”
She sat up straight and nodded her head. “I think I might. I’ve only just put the pieces together now. How do you know?”
Hugo looked helpless. “I don’t know. I suppose you want to be with that person all the time, you can’t stop thinking about them.” He paused. “Are you sure you mean love? Do you mean like a friend?”
Emilia thought about it, but in her heart she knew it was more than friendship. She felt very differently towards Amber than she did towards Hugo, or anyone else for that matter.
She touched her lips with the tips of her fingers, imagining they were Amber’s lips. A wave of heat crashed over her. It was unmistakable.
“I think I fell for her,” she whispered. “No, no. I know I did.”
She walked in front of the window, staring out into the darkness. “I’ve never really been that interested in boys. I mean, there was Nils and Erik… I didn’t care for them even half as much as I care for Amber. Maybe I’m bisexual, like she is?”
“She is bisexual?” Hugo asked.
“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around herself.
“Are you sure you—”
“I’m sure,” she cut him off. Whatever he was about to say was irrelevant. Her realisation of her feelings may have come on suddenly and without warning. Or perhaps they had been building for a while, she’d just been too swept away in them to realise what they were.
It seemed ridiculous, but she knew her heart. She had fallen for Amber.
She took a deep, shaky breath as she stared out into the blackness.
“And now I’ll never see her again.”
27
Back to Work
“You look absolutely terrible,” Caroline said as she handed her a takeaway coffee mug.
“Thanks so much.” Amber knew she looked bad, but she didn’t need confirmation from her supposed best friend on the matter.
“Have you slept?”
“I sure did. In Copenhagen Airport,” Amber replied, taking a sip of coffee and closing her eyes as the scorching liquid filled her mouth. It was the simple pleasures that were going to get her through what would no doubt be one of the worst moments of her life.
“Sounds nice. What’s the star rating there?” Caroline sipped her own drink and looked around the bustling coffee shop. “Let’s find somewhere quieter, we can probably find a quiet corner in the station.”
Amber nodded. Morning rush hour in a London café was nowhere to have a serious conversation. Caroline may have been flippant, but she also knew that Amber wasn’t in the habit of texting her at eight in the morning to tell her that her life was ruined, and that she needed her best friend immediately.
Light rain fell from the sky as they weaved in and out of streams of commuters trying to get to their respective offices. Amber was relieved that it was rain and not snow. Snow brought London to a complete standstill. And now it reminded her of Emilia.
They ducked into Waterloo Station and walked up to the top level to get away from the crowds of people. They sat at a table outside a restaurant that didn’t open until the late afternoon.
“So, what’s happened? I see that she’s not a murderer,” Caroline said.
“No, but she is a liar,” Amber replied bitterly. “She had no intention of signing the contract. No intention of doing business with us at all. It was all a lie.”
Caroline looked as confused as Amber felt. “Then why did she want you to go over there?”
“I’ve no idea.” Amber had racked her brains during her sleepless night at the airport but couldn’t fathom why Emilia had told the lie she had. It didn’t help that just thinking about Emilia caused her heart to clench in pain.
“There wasn’t some kind of translation issue?”
“No, she speaks perfect English. She knows words you don’t—”
“Hey.”
“She definitely lied to me. She pretended that she did business only with people she knew well, but she had no intention of even talking about it. She called me a faceless corporation.” That admission had slipped out. She hadn’t intended to focus on that point, but her sleep-deprived brain had latched onto it again and again. She couldn’t believe that was what Emilia thought of her.
“Ouch.” Caroline placed her hand on hers. “What’s the next step?”
Amber exhaled a deep breath. “Now… I lose my job. I’m not supposed to be back for a couple of days, so whenever I get the courage to go into the office… I do. Then I tell Bronwyn what happened, and she fires me.”
“Is there any chance you can convince her to keep you on? Appeal to her Christmas spirit?”
Amber gave her a look.
“Right. Yeah. The devil, I remember. I’m so sorry, I wish there was something I could do to help.”
“It’s okay. I just needed to see a friendly face. I rushed out of there yesterday evening, missed the last flight of the day, and had to sleep in the airport. But I didn’t sleep because I was so angry at myself for falling for her lies. And then I got the first flight this morning, which was expensive, and I don’t know if the company might refuse to pay it and deduct it from my last salary. Oh, Caz, everything is such a mess.”
Caroline didn’t reply. Amber looked up at her friend who was staring off into the distance.
“Hello? Earth to Caroline?”
“Look.” Caroline pointed towards the enormous television screen above the departure boards that normally showed either the news or advertising.
“Oh no…” Amber’s heart sank. The television showed a live news report of a vehicle attack in the London Bridge area. She waited as the ticker tape along the bottom of the screen scrolled around. Early reports were that there had been multiple casualties. Police were still hunting for the suspect.
“Terrifying,” Caroline breathed.
“Yeah.” Amber’s problems suddenly felt tiny in comparison to what was happening a short distance away.
“Nowhere is safe,” Caroline whispered.
“No, it’s not. And this is the second terrorist incident on London Bridge,” Amber said.
“And there was the one in Westminster.”
“And the one at the Tube station,” Amber remembered.
Caroline’s brow furrowed. “Where was that again?”
“Wasn’t it Parsons Green?”
“Yes, that was it. Isn’t it terrible that there have been so many that we start to forget them?” Caroline shook her head. “They’ve become the new normal.” She shivered at the thought.
“True. But, like they say, we can’t let the terrorists win. Right?” Amber said.
It was something that most Londoners found themselves saying at one point or another. No one was about to stop living their life because of cowardly terrorism.
“Damn right,” Caroline said. “I’ll still be out tonight.”
“If you’re buying, I’ll be with you,” Amber said with a faint laugh, the emptiness of her bank account already playing on her mind.
“You know you have a place on my sofa if you need it,” Caroline said. “You won’t, though, because you’ll be fine. You’re great at your job, and you’ll be snapped up by a better employer in no time. But I won’t let you be homeless, so don’t worry about silly things like that.”
Amber reached across the table and pulled Caroline into a hug. She knew she was blessed to have such a great friend, and such a wonderful group of friends in general. If anything went wrong, even though the thought was mortifying, she’d be supported. She didn’t want to mess up her life so badly that she needed saving, but the safety net was appreciated.
“Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.” She pulled away, her eyes looking at the news report. “I can’t watch that anymore. I think I better get into the office and face my fate.”
“Okay. Let me know what happens.”
They stood up and
hugged once more. Caroline wished her luck before waving her off, ordering her to be careful. They both knew that being careful had nothing to do with it. It was a sad state of affairs that the world they lived in now meant the risk of terror attacks. It could happen at any time and to anyone.
But Amber was more concerned about Bronwyn than any terrorist. Why spend time worrying about something that would probably never happen when something much more tangible was lurking right around the corner?
Tom looked at Amber and then at his watch and then back at Amber again. It was a pointless exercise which caused her to sigh at his ridiculous dramatics.
“I thought you were out for a few more days,” he finally said.
“I was, but now I’m back.” She placed her bag on her desk and looked towards Bronwyn’s closed office door.
“She’s out,” Tom explained before she could ask. “She’ll be back later this afternoon. Not sure when.”
Amber rolled her eyes. She’d spent the last half-hour walking up and down the street to try to find the courage to come in and be fired, and now Bronwyn didn’t even have the courtesy to be there.
She wondered what to do next. Should she leave again and come back later? Take the cowardly way out and leave a letter? No, that would just result in a later phone call to pick over the remains of what had happened and attempt to justify the cowardly letter.
And she didn’t really want to quit. She didn’t want to leave at all, not yet. Not while the employment market was so quiet. If she could hang on at Walker Clay for a few more weeks, everything might just work out okay.
The chance of Bronwyn giving her another chance was slim. But there was a chance, and her bank account and upcoming bills were begging her to take it.
She looked at her in tray. It was bulging with post from the last few days.
Might find the next Harry Potter in that lot, she thought to herself. The only thing that might save me now.
“Are you going to sit down or hover there all day?” Tom asked.
“Seeing as you asked so nicely.” She put her coat on the back of her chair and sat down.
Her heart was thumping against her rib cage. The day had turned into a ticking time bomb. Bronwyn would unexpectedly return to the office at who knew when, and Amber was going to have to sit at her desk and wait for that horrible moment. Her only hope was to find something incredible in her work pile or her inbox.
Which was about as likely as London having a white Christmas.
It really was turning into the day from hell. She’d hardly slept, her neck ached from the uncomfortable airport chairs, London was under attack again, and now she was waiting for the axe to fall. And on top of all of that, her brain kept unhelpfully providing her with images of Emilia.
She picked up the first hefty manuscript on the pile and skimmed the poorly worded query letter. She’d be glad when the day was over.
28
To the Rescue
The walk into town took longer than usual. It wasn’t the fresh snow that slowed Emilia down, it was her mood. For the first time in years, getting out of bed had seemed like a chore.
She was often up early and happy to get the day started. In fact, even that morning she had woken up early and been excited to get out of bed until she remembered that Amber was gone, and the events of the previous evening came back to her like a ton weight on her chest.
She’d pulled the blanket up and over her head and allowed her tears to fall again. It was another four hours before she finally got herself out of bed. She’d nearly gone right back when she’d seen her ghastly reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Eventually her stomach had complained of hunger. She couldn’t face the mess in the kitchen, she’d left the partially cooked food out when she’d gone to bed the evening before. There was nothing for it but to go out and get something to eat from town. No matter how terrible she looked.
While she was getting dressed she thought about what she would get to eat at her favourite bakery, only to realise that she would be revisiting the place where she had first met Amber.
The walk usually took around twenty-five minutes. She didn’t know how long she had been walking, but the fact that the cold air had seeped through her jacket told her that it had been at least double that.
She wondered when the tears and lethargy would let up. Or if they ever would. The last time she had felt this terrible was when she was eleven years old and her perfect home life had started to unravel.
This was different, of course. The end of a friendship was nothing like the loss of loved ones, but the empty hole in her heart felt the same. And she felt just as confused and lost as she had done then.
It was as if her brain were only half awake. And that half was manic. The part that was asleep was shrouded in a fog that she couldn’t shake.
She couldn’t remember Hugo leaving the night before. She knew they had spoken for a long time and that he had forced her to eat some toasted bread. But as the night went on and her tears refused to subside, the memories became hazy.
She wished that Amber was there, not just because she wanted to apologise but because Amber somehow knew how to fix things. Amber knew when she was falling off a cliff and knew exactly what to say to help.
Her breath caught in her throat. She needed to stop thinking that way. Amber was gone. She’d driven her away with lies and she wouldn’t ever be returning.
She felt the wind of a passing car and realised that she was walking in the road and nearing the middle of town. She stepped up onto the walkway and sped up thanks to the gritted area.
A few minutes later she walked into the bakery. As she’d expected, her heart sank as she looked at the table where she’d had her first meeting with Amber. A woman with a baby sat there now.
Emilia turned away and walked to the counter. She was so hungry that her body was shaking, but her appetite was missing. She hated how her body was falling apart, hated feeling so completely broken. Even if she did deserve it.
The waitress greeted her and asked to take her order. She quickly ordered her usual sandwich, cheese and ham. Plain and filling.
The television behind the counter was showing images of blue flashing lights and police, but they didn’t look like the Swedish Polis.
“Vad har hänt?” She asked.
“En terroristattack i London.” The waitress lifted the portable device to the counter so Emilia could see the small screen better. She carried on talking, explaining what had happened, but Emilia couldn’t hear anything except the rushing sound that filled her ears.
People were dead. Many more were injured. A madman had driven into them, on purpose. It was utterly unthinkable. Emilia couldn’t comprehend why someone would ever do such a thing, and certainly not at a Christmas market.
Suddenly she couldn’t remember what Amber had told her about her job. She couldn’t recall where the office was based, how Amber got to work. All she knew was that Amber had a flight the previous evening and was now in London.
Probably right in the middle of the attack.
What if she’s dead? Emilia panicked. Or injured. Does she have anyone to look after her? What if she is hurt and alone?
She asked for her sandwich to go and handed over some money. She grabbed the paper bag and hurried from the bakery, not bothering to put her gloves back on. She crossed the town square, wondering whether it was best to go into the travel agency or the taxi office first.
The tell-tale blackness of an impending panic attack swarmed in her vision.
She paused and took a deep breath to calm herself. Amber needed her, and she needed to think clearly. After a couple of seconds, the blackness left as quickly as it had arrived. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and her mind.
Get the plane booked first, she thought. Then get the taxi home to get your passport.
She was relieved that she’d always kept her passport up to date. She told herself she kept it in case she ever decided to realise her dream of trave
lling the world. In reality, she knew that would never happen. She’d never even considered going to Copenhagen or Stockholm, never mind farther afield.
It would be the first time she’d ever used her passport.
First stop, London.
29
Fired
In the back of her mind, Amber knew she’d never find the holy grail to employment in her in tray. She’d looked several times just to be sure. Once the inevitability of it all had set in, she’d gone out to get a huge share bag of chocolate and proceeded to eat it herself as she waited for the end.
As it happened, the end arrived at ten minutes to five.
Bronwyn raised an eyebrow as she noticed Amber. She silently pointed to her office. Amber grabbed a few more pieces of chocolate and shoved them in her mouth before following Bronwyn.
“Close the door.”
She closed the door and stood behind the visitor seat.
“You’re back early,” Bronwyn noted. “And judging from the fact you look like your dog died, I’m assuming you have failed to return with a signed contract.”
“Emilia Lund had no intention of signing a contract, she lied to me,” Amber said.
“And why would she do that?” Bronwyn asked, sounding mildly interested. Amber couldn’t blame her, it was the number one question on her mind, too.
“I’ve no idea,” she replied honestly. Even now, after a few more hours with the quandary, she still couldn’t figure it out.
“Well, you know what this means,” Bronwyn said.
Amber had already decided that she wouldn’t be pleading for her job. It was pointless to appeal to Bronwyn’s heart, as it was questionable whether or not she had one.
“Clear your desk out. I’m going to assume I won’t have to call security?” Bronwyn asked with a sigh, as if she were the one hard done by.
“You won’t. I want to thank you for the opportunity of working here,” Amber said politely. She knew that she needed to butter Bronwyn up as she was probably still unaware of the cost of the last-minute flight home that she’d charged to the company.
A Swedish Christmas Fairy Tale Page 13
