Chapter 8 #2
‘I’m open to love though.’ He lets out a booming laugh and stares hard at Princess, who reels back as if slapped.
It’s the first time I’ve seen her lose her composure and I bite down on a smile.
‘A mate of mine suggested that I needed to broaden my horizons. I’m a late bloomer when it comes to travel.
’ He lets out an embarrassed chuckle. ‘This is the first time I’ve ventured from Australia, to see a bit of the world.
Who knows, love might find me that way. Any takers?
’ He guffaws. Really, he’s quite sweet in that typical jokester Australian way where they don’t take life too seriously.
I jab Princess in the ribs and she gives me the stink eye.
Sure, Barry doesn’t have her style or grace, but he seems like a man who’d make life fun and be up for anything just like she is.
If anyone can handle a man who is a little overzealous, it’s Princess.
So what if Princess has sworn off men? So have I for the minute and yet she’s still nudging Jasper towards me at every interval she can. Two can play at that game.
‘And what about you?’ Barry motions to a woman wearing a festive tracksuit adorned with candy canes. She sits to his left and smiles broadly when the attention is directed her way. She tucks a lock of mousy brown hair behind her ear.
‘I’m CJ from Canada. I’m a divorced single mother and likely to remain as such because the dating pool in my town is more of a pond.
I don’t hold high hopes I’ll meet my Prince Charming there, where everyone knows everyone.
I want a partner who enjoys outdoors pursuits, but he must also love K-Pop.
Extra points if he adores K-Drama, or Korean zombie flicks.
Unless he meets that criterion, I’m not interested. ’
‘K-Pop, K-Drama, and Korean zombie movies? That’s very specific,’ Karen says, giving CJ an approving nod.
Karen’s not prepared to commit to a second date if they don’t pass muster and CJ’s not willing to compromise on sharing similar hobbies – it’s refreshing that these women are so aware of what they want in a partner.
‘Yeah, and frankly, I’m at the point of giving up finding such a unicorn.’ CJ laughs. ‘But I figure, life is too short to settle for second best.’
CJ’s sentiment hits home. ‘I hope you find your perfect match,’ I say, admiring her for sticking to a wish list. It makes me question my own standards for love.
I’ve never really thought that deeply about it.
I’ve been more caught up in the end of relationships, licking my wounds and piecing together what went wrong – should I be focusing instead on what attributes the perfect man needs to have?
‘Thank you,’ CJ says. ‘It’s my ex-husband’s turn with the teens this Christmas, so I splurged on this trip. I’m up for anything, if the rest of you are? I’m mostly looking forward to our igloo stays in Lapland.’
‘I am too,’ I say with a smile. At the end of the line, when the train stops in Rovaniemi, we’ll be driven deep into the snowy wilds of Lapland to finish out our trip in private igloos with domed glass ceilings, hoping to catch an unobstructed view of the Aurora Borealis if weather conditions are favourable.
I sprang for an upgrade, an outdoor terrace with hot tub – which now seems like a huge waste of money.
Hot tub for one? Damn you, Miles, for casting a pall over things.
The Northern Lights have been on my bucket list for ages and to be able to experience them in the height of luxury must be magical.
‘The igloo stays are fantastic,’ Princess says. ‘It’s like being in a different universe under a galaxy of swirling green and pink sky. I’ve stayed there twice and am hoping to be lucky enough to catch the spectacle of colour for a third time.’
‘Oh nice,’ CJ says. ‘Yeah, it’s not so much about the Aurora Borealis as it is Lapland itself.
I’m keen to try sauna bathing and Arctic-ice swimming!
Going from the intense heat of the sauna to the extreme cold of the lake is great for your circulation.
But I’m most excited about learning to command the husky sled. ’
‘Don’t you just sit in the sled and enjoy being pulled along in the frozen forest?’ Princess asks.
CJ’s eyes sparkle with anticipation. ‘There is that option but I found a company that teaches you how to command the huskies and drive the sled yourself. Apparently it’s quite the skill learning how to navigate through such a dense forest of trees.
The huskies can get up to speeds of twenty kilometres per hour.
Then there’s snowshoeing! Oh, and I want to take a snowmobile out for a spin. What a rush!’
Ah, Canadian CJ is that rare breed of tourist, the thrill-seeker who enjoys high octane, adrenaline-fuelled pursuits.
No doubt she’s the kind of holidaymaker who bungees off cliffs and leaps from perfectly safe planes.
I wish I had a little more daredevil inside me, but I like being alive too much to risk it.
‘I’m stuck on the idea of ice swimming,’ Barry says, anxiety flicking across his features. ‘How on earth would you not freeze to death? Aren’t temperatures forecast to be around minus sixteen degrees Celsius or so?’ The big burly Australian shivers.
‘Yes, those temps sound about right.’ CJ grins.
‘It will be a little chilly but that’s exactly what the sauna is for, to warm the old bones up again afterwards.
’ Her face is lit up as she talks about the activities she’s keen to partake in.
‘It must sound extreme to you, Barry, coming from a country with all that sunshine, but the benefits outweigh the discomfort. Ice swimming reduces blood pressure and boosts your immune system and cognitive abilities. I need of all that, especially after raising teenage boys who zap me of my strength by their sheer rambunctiousness.’
‘Aah,’ Karen says with an understanding nod. ‘Now it makes sense. This is your version of self-care – more extreme than, say, a spa day, but effective nonetheless.’
CJ gives her a knowing grin. ‘Exactly. Shocks me back to life. Replenishes me for motherhood duties. And what about you?’ CJ turns the conversation back my way.
Princess jumps in before I have a chance to respond. ‘Aubrey’s husband took his seat on the Afterlife Express. It’s very recent, so the less said the better, and please, she can’t stomach even the thought of mushrooms. It’s too soon.’
Karen frowns and mouths ‘mushrooms?’ to Barry. He gives her a blank look and a shrug. Oh God. Who started the bloody poisonous mushroom story anyway?
‘Oooh. You’re the… widow.’ CJ’s expression changes to one of sympathy. ‘I’m so sorry. To lose the love of your life in such a way. Sinkholes are my worst nightmare.’ She shudders. ‘They seem to be on the rise too, don’t they? Like, what is going on with that?’
Barry mouths ‘sinkhole?’ back to Karen. I will never live this down.
A sinkhole! Now I’ve heard it all. My backstory has grown legs, a head, and a life of its own so why fight it? Most people don’t question me further once they hear Miles is pushing up daisies, and isn’t that what I wanted? Not to be known as the abandoned bride?
But for the sake of being honest, I better give it a try because otherwise I fear there’ll be detectives waiting at the next platform to interrogate me, what with all the deeply suspicious ways in which the other passengers seem to think my beloved departed the land of the living.
‘Miles, he didn’t really die, you know…’
CJ leans across and rubs the top of my hand. ‘Of course not! His spirit lives on, while he rests in eternal peace, and one day’ – she’s moved to tears – ‘you’ll be reunited.’
I’m detecting a pattern. People are so alarmed by grief they stop listening and pivot to platitudes.
Before I can assure CJ that he’s not knocking on heaven’s door, she’s out of her chair and pulling me in for a hug that’s so tight I struggle to breathe.
I’m surprised at how strong she is as she squeezes the very breath from my body.
When I’m released from her vice-like grip, I inhale much-needed oxygen as Sabrina heads our way, bottle of wine in hand.
This evening she’s wearing her own ugly Christmas jumper that features Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on the front, and has a tail sewed on to the back that bounces and swings with each step.
As she fills guests’ wine glasses, her tail swipes plates and glasses from tables, leaving a trail of devastation in her wake.
Sabrina is blithely unaware, probably because she’s also donned a pair of puffy reindeer earmuffs that serve no real purpose except maybe to prevent her hearing passenger complaints and cries for help.
George trails behind, picking up debris and apologising to passengers.
‘Aubrey!’ she yells too loud when she spots me.
‘Behind you!’ I motion, but she’s doesn’t understand and just gives me a fluttery little wave while another table’s cutlery clatters to the carpet.
She misinterprets what I’m gesturing to and says, ‘Oh, you know George. He’s always grovelling around the floor picking up bits and pieces.’ She leans closer to us and lowers her voice. ‘A bit of a klutz, but honestly, he’s such a sweetheart.’
Poor George is a few steps back, dealing with the aftermath. Around the table we exchange hurried glances. Is anyone going to tell her that in actual fact she is the klutz? By the looks of it, no one wants to be the bearer of such news, so I let it go. I’m sure George will have a quiet word.
Sabrina goes around the table, topping up our wine glasses with a bottle of Burgundy.
She doesn’t seem to notice that some of us are drinking white wine, and she splashes the red in, oblivious.
While she might be lacking in a certain attention to detail, she more than makes up for it with her bubbly personality, although tonight she does appear a little less sparkly.
Staff work hours on board are intense, so I feel for her.
In jobs like this, staff rely on generous tips from passengers at the end of the journey as thanks for their efforts.
It’s why this type of job is so popular, despite the toll the long hours take on staff.
‘Did you hear the latest?’ Sabrina bends to whisper loud enough for our table of six to hear.
‘No?’ I say. ‘The latest about what?’
‘There’s trouble in paradise. A once-happy couple have hit splitsville!’ Sabrina darts a glance around to make sure other tables aren’t eavesdropping. ‘Came out of nowhere too.’
‘Really? Who?’ I ask, surveying the dining room carriage for potential candidates.
Sabrina doesn’t have a chance to respond as our group chatter excitedly about who it could be. ‘Have you noticed some of them act like kissing is an Olympic event and their very own gold medal is on the line?’ Karen puckers her mouth as if the idea is distasteful. ‘Like, we get it, you’re in love.’
‘This train is nothing but sex on wheels… except for us.’ Princess sadly shakes her head.
Sabrina acknowledges Princess with a nod and gives Karen a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.
‘Tell me about it. I’m the one who has to turn down their beds every evening, and let’s just say there are quite a few who need to learn that the “do not disturb” door hanger is as much for the benefit of staff as their own modesty, which seems to be grossly lacking. ’
‘Yikes.’
‘Yikes exactly. I’m going to need years of therapy to wipe those visions from my mind.’
Sabrina’s future Confessions Of tell-all book will be a gold mine of stories and most likely a bestseller because who doesn’t want to hear the lowdown? ‘So, who are they?’ I ask, sneaking another peek at the tables close by. I feel a wave of sadness for whoever the couple is.
There’s a pause as Sabrina bites down on her lip, as if wondering if she should confide in us or not. ‘Think of this like… an Agatha Christie novel. You’ll have to find the clues and solve the mystery.’
Jasper frowns. ‘But someone always ends up dead in an Agatha Christie novel, don’t they? And there’s one set on a train very similar to this.’
‘Oh!’ Sabrina chortles. ‘I’ve never actually read any of her novels.
Well, same principle – hunt for clues. I’ll leave this little break-up mystery with you.
’ With that she moves to the next table as we scurry to save our overly full wine glasses and rescue our dinner plates as her tail shows no mercy.
‘Well,’ Karen says. ‘This train ride just got a little more interesting!’
‘It seems that we all have one thing in common.’ Princess takes a sip of her mixed-up wine and grimaces. ‘We’re all consciously uncoupled, darlings, and at Christmas no less. Therefore I hereby dub us the “Unlucky in Love Travel Club”.’
We clink glasses and celebrate our… misfortune.
‘So,’ Karen asks. ‘Which couple is on the precipice of joining our ranks?’
I swear the dining carriage goes quiet to listen to our speculations.
Our couple sailing stormy waters may well be one of them, but which one?
Some pretend to be gazing at menus but peep over the top at us.
Others kiss and croon while giving us the side-eye, which is a little strange.
If you commit to a kiss in public, like, actually commit.
‘Perhaps this is a conversation best kept for the library?’ I give an almost imperceptible tilt of the head to our audience.
‘Good idea,’ agrees Princess. ‘After dinner we’ll move to the comfort of the library carriage where we can unpick this mystery without all these extra ears.’ She lifts a regal brow.