Chapter 25
I leave Princess with the albularyo’s phone number and hope she gets in touch. I find the group, who are sitting in the lounge carriage waiting to depart the train for a day in Stockholm. ‘Is she OK?’ Barry asks, concern marring his brow.
I smile. ‘Yes, she’s going to have a lie in and meet up with us later.’
‘It’ll feel weird going out and about without her, won’t it?’ Karen says, swiping on her signature scarlet lipstick.
‘Maybe I should stick around?’ Barry asks, running a hand through his thinning hair. ‘Keep an eye on her, without intruding too often. Karen’s read me the riot act about all that stuff.’
Karen shrugs. ‘What would I know? Princess seems to like the attention, so don’t listen to me.’
He’s waiting for permission from us, which I find inordinately sweet.
Princess really didn’t give much of an indication what her plans were, but I have a feeling that she’s hoping Barry will visit her cabin for a chat.
‘That’s a nice idea, Barry. Why don’t you send her a text and tell her you’re staying on board for a bit? ’
‘Good idea, love. Then she can call me as needed, if needed. Although she hasn’t had breakfast, so perhaps I could take her a tray… or I could wait and we could share lunch. Or afternoon tea? I don’t want to be overbearing.’
‘Send the text, Barry.’
He trundles off in the direction of his cabin, like a man on a mission. It’s sweet seeing love bloom between two people who have stumbled in the past.
‘Against my better judgement, CJ’s roped me into going to the ice rink on kungstr?dg?rden.
Did you and Jasper want to come with us?
I might need his muscles if I take a tumble…
’ Karen says with a smile. ‘Although CJ is pretty strong from all that hiking, so maybe she could heft my weight if needed.’
CJ bumps her with a hip. ‘I’m quite capable of performing first aid when required.
Don’t forget, I’ve got teen boys; there have been an alarming amount of breakages.
But I don’t plan on playing nurse today, because you’re going to remain upright, even if I have to hold you upright.
’ It’s sweet to see these two have formed a strong friendship, teasing each other in a sisterly way – well, not how my sister does, but regular sisters.
‘Oh thanks for the invite,’ I say. ‘But there’s absolutely no way I’m going to go ice skating.
I struggle walking on solid ground as it is.
And seriously, I do not need any more videos of me circulating.
According to Sabrina, the Winter Wonderland Express is trending on Insta after someone uploaded a video of the dance battle.
No doubt it’s because of Jasper’s erotic dancing, but surely my robot moves are second to that.
Told you that style never goes out of fashion. ’
‘Ah, yeah, I’m sure you’re second in views because of your robot talent and for no other reason,’ Karen says and does some rather sketchy side eye in CJ’s direction. Is she being sarcastic? Hard to tell.
‘Jasper might be keen on the idea?’ I say.
‘No, I’ll stick with you, Aubrey. Apart from anything, we’ve got to find you another ugly Christmas mug, eh?’
I laugh. ‘Sure. Princess offered the use of her private car, so why don’t you girls take it?’
‘Fab. Text us if you want to meet up later and maybe Princess and Barry will be around then too?’
‘Sure.’
Jasper and I head out into the snowy day and catch a ride share to ArkDes museum to visit the gingerbread house exhibition.
When we arrive, we’re assailed with the heavenly scent of gingerbread.
It conjures Christmas for me and always makes me smile.
As soon as December first hits each year, Mum would have mixing bowls out and we’d help make gingerbread man biscuits, and the countdown for Christmas started that very day.
Rox would decapitate her men – the writing has always been on the wall with her – and Mum would try not to scold her and ruin the mood.
In the end she just let her dismember them however she wanted.
You can tell a lot about a person by how they bake.
Of course, our cooking attempts with Mum at the helm were always a disaster, but it wasn’t about that; it was about enjoying the ceremony of it together.
The spicy ginger scent brings to the fore all those shared moments in Mum’s cosy kitchen and makes me homesick for my family.
Right now, Mum will be preparing for the big feast to come, making as much ahead of time as she can and dashing to the shops to buy more Christmas festive cushions, because you can never have enough, and Dad will be up on the roof fixing Christmas lights and musing that his inflatable Santa is missing his Mrs Clause, and Mum will be outlawing any more money spent on decorations, and then they’ll get into it over the new cushions before drinking eggnog made with too much brandy and will both fall asleep holding hands together in front of the fire. Good times.
‘I’ve lost you. You’re off doing Pythagoras theorem again, aren’t you?’
I laugh. ‘I’m hopeless at maths. More of a word person, actually.’
His slow smile is enough to stop my heart. ‘We haven’t even finished our discussion about favourite books yet,’ says he, as if we’ve got our whole lives to chat about the things we love. And if I were truly untethered, I could throw myself at this, couldn’t I?
‘We really need hot chocolate and the warmth of a roaring fire for that.’
‘I live in a little cabin in Connecticut with a log fire and bookshelves along one wall.’
Oh God. How to kidnap me 101: tell me there’s a log fire and books.
‘Are you the kind of guy who likes spending all day in bed with a book?’ Please say yes!
My mind goes off on a tangent picturing Jasper twisted in sheets, book in hand, hot-guy-reading fantasy.
I shake my head to dislodge the vision, but it’s stuck.
‘When I come back from work trips, I often spend all day in bed with a book, and it’s even better if it’s cold outside, or you can hear rain drumming on the roof. I would happily spend a whole weekend like that.’
‘Reading snacks?’
He rubs his jawline. ‘Chocolate truffles. You?’
‘Dark chocolate truffles.’
‘Do you read in the bath?’ His lips twist into a grin.
‘Yes, for my sins.’
He lifts a brow. ‘Dog ear the pages?’
‘I’m not sure I know you well enough to answer that one.
’ I make a show of being coy. It’s a sin in literati-land and causes quite the stir among bibliophiles.
Books are meant to be enjoyed, to bend with the reader, take shape under my hands; so what if I fold the page? But I don’t tell anyone that!
‘That means yes!’
I grimace. ‘Fine, yes. But in my defence, I mostly buy from second-hand bookshops so the novels are usually pretty well loved by that stage anyway…’
He waves me away as if to stop the excuses pouring from my mouth. ‘I do too, and I highlight passages I want to reflect on.’
‘You monster.’
‘Guilty.’
‘We better check out the gingerbread houses before you share any more secrets.’
The museum is full of gingerbread creations made by professional chefs and amateur bakers. We explore each section of the museum and buy some gingerbread on the way out.
My phone beeps. ‘It’s Princess. They want to meet up at the Stortorget’s Christmas market in a couple of hours.’
* * *
We meet the Unlucky in Love Travel Club at the Stortorget’s Christmas market, which has been trading since 1837 and is located in Old Town.
It’s the oldest festive market in all of Sweden.
We wander around the cute cabin-like stalls with offerings such as handcrafted ceramics and knitwear.
There’s a stall selling fresh spices, and another with a range of hard cheeses, chutneys and relishes.
We come to the hot food stalls. On display are big, fat, juicy sausages, which of course make me think of Princess, who spots them at the same time, her eyes lighting up.
I drag her away before she can make any lewd jokes.
We wander along, snow crunching underfoot.
There’s a stall selling pepparkaka, ginger biscuits, so I buy some for the Unlucky in Love Travel Club to eat later.
We stop to warm our hands by an open barrel fire and listen to a children’s choir sing a beautiful rendition of Stilla Natt, which even I can recognise is Silent Night.
With their long white gowns and sweet pure voices they’re like little Christmas angels.
When the Christmas carol ends, we clap for the choir and make way for other market goers to warm their hands by the fire.
Princess ambles beside me. From what I can gather, she’s back to her bubbly self.
The others peruse a stall selling lussekatter or Saint Lucia buns, saffron brioche named for the patron Saint of light.
Princess takes the opportunity to pull me aside, her face is bright with happiness.
‘I spoke to the albularyo. You’re right, she’s knowledgeable.
My mother always trusted in healers, more so than conventional doctors.
If my mother was alive, she’d have insisted on me consulting with an albularyo ages ago.
In fact, she’d have marched me there, despite any protests on my behalf.
I grew up with a life very different to the one I have now, and that’s all down to my mother believing in me, showing me the way.
And so you’ve brought her alive again, reminded me that perhaps I’m being unfair to myself, taking all the blame, punishing myself the way I have. ’
‘So… you don’t think there’s a curse?’
She shakes her head sadly. ‘The albularyo helped me understand what a real curse would look like, and it’s not this.
What ails me is different. It’s a broken heart that never quite healed and then broke again twice more.
Putting the blame on myself stopped my heart from healing over and didn’t allow me to let that love go.
I’ll always love my husbands, but life is for living and, by holding on to the past, I’m allowing grief to win, blame to darken my days.
I’ve finally retired but instead of enjoying myself with a companion, I’ve been denying myself that gift.
And look how many men I’ve left in a puddle of tears because I said “no, sorry, you’ll die this horrible early death if you so much as kiss me!
” Well, no more! I’ve got a whole life to cram into the next twenty-five years. I’m not going to say no any more.’
‘I’m happy for you, Princess. You deserve to enjoy your retirement with someone who loves you for you. Have you… met that certain someone, do you think?’ I slide my gaze in Barry’s direction.
Princess follows my gaze and smiles. ‘I’ve made a great friend, that much I’m sure of, and friendship is a good start.
And what about you?’ Her eyes land on Jasper.
‘You also seem to have found a friend amid your sadness.’ We watch Jasper, who has his head thrown back and is laughing at a story CJ is recounting.
‘Yeah, I have, I’ve found six wonderful friends in all of you.’ Princess cocks her head, purses her lips, but doesn’t call me out on it. ‘And I’m going to walk the Camino with Jasper in March. Why not?’
‘And what about the in between time?’
I lock eyes with Jasper and my breath catches.
‘No plan as yet, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out, eventually.
’ I have to do a bit of research but I haven’t wanted to spend time locked away in my cabin when I can spend it with my new friends.
Every moment we share is precious and I want to enjoy all our time together.
It’s not often seven people, if you include me, gel the way we have.
It’s one of those magical travel marvels that make you wish that the time together will never run out, but maybe the beauty of it is that our time together is limited and that’s why it is so special.
We’ve all cast aside those masks everyone wears when you first meet and peeled back those layers to get to know one another on a deeper level, fast. But then there’s me, who hasn’t been truthful, despite trying umpteen times.
I’ll have to come clean. But not now, not while they’re all smiling and laughing and enjoying the festivities.
‘I hope we can all meet again,’ Princess murmurs. ‘But life sure is a wily beast, so I know to take it one day at a time.’