23. CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 23
Elly
Seems like the whole of Hazelhurst has the same idea as we all shuffle off the boat and head to the train station that will take us to the city.
Bundled in her black coat and scarf beside me, Tilda bounces up and down, trying to warm up her frozen, Docs-encased feet. The tip of her nose is pink already, her eyes alight at the thought of the festivities ahead. I take back what I said about her not liking Christmas. She’s liking it just fine today.
We don’t manage to find a seat, squished in the corner of the train near the toilet. People jostle us from every side, still hopeful they’ll find somewhere to sit. When the train finally rumbles to life, I guide Tilda to a quieter spot, stationing myself in front of her.
She smiles appreciatively, the sight sending my heart pitter-pattering. She has the prettiest smile, green eyes squinting up and glistening like jewels.
She’s been quiet this morning. Not subdued. I can’t work it out. She seems happy enough to be here, I just get the feeling something’s up. Maybe it’s not for me to know. Tilda’s a deep gal. I don’t need to know everything about her, as much as I want to.
‘So what’s the plan of action?’ she asks. ‘Shops then market?’
‘Might just head for the market. They’ll hopefully have some gifts there.’
‘Who are you buying for?’
‘Maisie who’s five. She’s easy. Anything glittery and colourful. Then there’s Taylor. Deep in her pre-teen phase. She likes grown up things only. Nothing glittery and colourful for her.’
Tilda laughs. ‘Yeah, I remember that phase. Think I’m still kinda in it.’
‘And then there’s Dan. He’s fourteen and just wants a game. I’ve already Amazoned that one. I reckon there’ll be some nice stuff for my grandparents at the market.’
‘What about your parents?’
‘Eh, bit trickier.’ I look out the window past Tilda’s shoulder. She doesn’t know all that shit. No one does, to be honest. I’m not against anyone knowing, it’s just, well, no one’s ever asked. ‘Not sure my mum’s even gonna be around.’
‘Yeah? How so?’ Tilda waits intently, a little furrow in her brow as she picks up on the heavier vibes.
‘She’s taking a little holiday in a rehab place. Not, like, for drugs. For mental health. She’s got a thing for trying to unalive herself.’
‘Well, shit, dude.’ She reaches out and touches my sleeve. ‘Aw, Elly.’
I shake my head, forcing myself to smile. ‘It’s cool. Literally, I’m so used to it by now.’
‘Is this why you might have to quit uni?’
‘Yeah.’ I release a sigh. ‘My grandparents are getting on and they just can’t deal with the kids. There’s not even enough room for them in the house. Mum lost her council house so we all moved in. Grandad even built a little summerhouse shed thing in the garden just so Mum had somewhere to sleep. It’s just, yeah, not really seeing a solution for it all right now.’
‘Shouldn’t be up to you to find one.’
‘No one else though, is there?’ A thought that haunts me every day.
‘Elly.’ Tilda frowns at me, eyes so full of compassion it almost brings tears to mine.
I give a weak smile. ‘Hey, it’s Christmas. It’s all good.’
She gives the hem of my jacket a tug. ‘We’ll have the best fucking day ever.’
It’s about lunchtime when we finally reach the market, so we start with food. The smell is insane, German sausage and samosas mingling with hot chocolate, churros and mulled wine.
Tilda spins in a circle. ‘Fuuuuuck, how do you choose?’
‘Well, I’m having a hot dog for sure.’
She hums, fiddling with her bottom lip. ‘Might join you. Don’t know if I’ve got the room for one of those beasts though. Might be boring and just get chips.’
‘They’ve got poutine over there.’
Tilda smiles. ‘Sold. Wanna meet back here after?’
By some miracle I’m done before she is, onion-scented steam bathing my face as I fight not to bite into the still sizzling sausage. I stand out the way of Tilda’s stall, watching her intent face as she waits for her order to be called. She looks like Wednesday out on a day trip with her dark hair in plaits and every item on her being black. The red velvet on our Christmas meal out had been a nice treat.
Though not as nice as what came after.
As merry on booze as I’d been, I still remember every second of that perfect, immaculate, wholly unexpected kiss. I hadn’t even cared that Haz got in there first. When I was called up, I gave it everything I had.
She’d been perfect. Soft and yielding and responsive. I know she was just trying to prove something but there’s no way, no how, she hadn’t enjoyed herself just a little bit.
It’s ruined me. Every night out, I’m gonna want the same now.
But I can’t. Because she’s straight. A fact she hammers home all the time. Not her fault we’re just fucking easy.
‘I am super excited for this,’ she says when she joins me, steaming Styrofoam container in hand.
There’re no free benches around the market, so we head a little further out to the port, watching ships going in and out as we lean on the railings.
‘Can we see Hazelhurst from here?’ Tilda asks as she gazes out over the water.
‘Don’t think so. It’ll be round the other side. Little Hazel might be closer.’
I scour the horizon for Hazelhurst’s sister island. It’s probably too small to see. Most of the university’s student body hails from there, something they really like letting us scholarship lot know. There are two schools on the little land mass, both preparatory. It’s also home to some proper rich folk, living in those private mansions on Hazel Point.
‘Wonder what the other two are doing today,’ Tilda muses.
I give up on looking, refocussing back on my hot dog.
‘Being miserable bastards, that’s what. What fucker says no to Christmas markets?’
Tilda snickers. ‘Your two best friends, that’s who.’
‘Yeah, well, don’t choose your family, do you?’
‘You’re so cute, the two of you. You and Haz. You’re like siblings sometimes.’
‘Feels like it. She does my nut in.’
‘You love her though.’
‘Yeah,’ I sigh. ‘Nic, too.’
Tilda grunts, not as happy with that apparently.
‘Wish I understood your beef,’ I say to her.
‘You and me both,’ she huffs. ‘She’s like Peeta from The Hunger Games. You know when he gets Tracker Jackered and tweaks out every time he sees Katniss? I’m Katniss!’
‘You’re definitely as hot as her.’
I wait for Tilda to laugh like she usually does, but she only turns her eyes on me, waiting until she’s finished chewing to say, ‘Yeah? You reckon?’
‘Don’t just reckon, babe. I know.’
She looks away but I don’t think it’s because she’s uncomfortable. There’s a cute little blush on her face that the cold can’t account for alone. For the first time, I think my flirting’s actually landed its mark.
‘You cold?’ I murmur.
She nods, taking half a step closer to me. Taking that as an invitation, I put my arm around her, pulling her slender body against mine.
I release a long breath, thinking that this is about as perfect as the moment from the other night. Despite the cold day, the sky is cloudless, the sea appearing murky as ships and their containers chug across it.
‘Reckon Dan’s game’s on one of those.’
Tilda peeks up at me. ‘Is my gift?’
I squeeze her tighter. ‘I gave you that the other night.’
‘Was a pretty good gift.’ She nods.
‘Yeah?’
‘Mm-hm.’
‘One you’d like to repeat maybe?’
She stays silent, staring resolutely at the ships.
I grin self-deprecatingly. Worth a try, eh?
When we start seizing up, we return to the market. It seems busier now, no easily navigable paths meaning we’re bumping shoulders with every step.
I peer round, lips pursed. ‘Hm, maybe I can see why they’d say no.’
Tilda takes hold of my arm. ‘We’ve just got to get closer to the stalls.’
I let her lead, her smaller size nipping in and out of the crowd and clearing paths for me.
‘So, sister, sister, brother, mum, grandparents?’ Tilda says, ticking off her fingers.
‘Yep. And don’t forget it’s Haz’s birthday Monday if you were getting her something.’
‘I’ve got Haz. Alright. There’s some flashy stuff over there. Might be good for Maisie.’
I smile at the sound of my sister’s name on her lips. Despite our close proximity over the last couple of months, we don’t really know each other outside of our flirty banter and academic endeavours. I don’t know, maybe that’s been subconsciously deliberate on my part. Keeping the straight girl at arm’s length. But it warms me to hear her take an interest in my family, fucked up as they may be.
‘What about you? Who are you buying for?’
‘Exactly no one,’ she sings, the brittle smile on her face telling me she’s feeling less casual about that than she sounds. ‘I’m not going home this Christmas.’
‘What, you’re not? Why?’
‘It’s weird with my mum. Always has been.’ She breathes out a laugh. ‘She doesn’t like me very much but this year, she doubly doesn’t like me because I refuse to have Christmas with her and her abusive dick boyfriend.’
Right. So not just me with the dysfunctional family. No wonder she fits in so well with me, Haz, even Nic. ‘So what are you doing instead?’
She shrugs. ‘Staying at Hazelhurst.’
‘With Nic and Haz?’ I blow out a breath. ‘That doesn’t sound very fun for you.’ I frown the more I think about it. I don’t like the idea at all. ‘Nah, we’re not having that.’
‘Aren’t we?’
‘Nope.’ I pull her to a stop, cupping her cheeks so she sees my sincerity. ‘You’re coming to mine for Christmas.’
‘What? No! You don’t even have the room for you lot, you said.’
‘There’s room with Mum at the crazy house.’ I smile, quickly warming to the idea. ‘My grandparents will love it, honestly. They love people. I’ve got dogs. You love dogs. My siblings will love you.’ I bark a laugh. ‘Especially Dan, shit. We can camp out in the summer house. It’ll be fun.’
Tilda stares at me, a reluctant smile on her face. She’s trying to work out whether I’m serious, but I am. I so am. I refuse to let this girl be alone at Christmas. Haz and Nic won’t do shit for it. No turkeys to be found on Hazelhurst. Tilda deserves all the trimmings.
She takes my hands from her cheeks. ‘Wait, are you serious?’
‘Deadly.’
She bites her lip, glancing away. ‘Can I think about it?’
‘Yeah, but there’s no point. You’re coming.’
‘Alright, Haz.’
She’s thoughtful for the rest of our outing, sipping her mulled wine and absorbing the activity around her. With the few bits I find, I’m able to call the trip a success.
The journey back is pretty much the same as the one there. We stand like sardines, swaying with the motion of the train. It’s dark out now, only my reflection to be seen in the window.
‘Okay, I’ll come,’ Tilda murmurs.
My head shoots up. ‘Yeah?’
She nods. ‘Yeah. Only if it is completely cool with your grandparents.’
I take out my phone. ‘I’ll text them now, but it totally will be.’ I pause to grin at her. ‘It’s gonna be fucking mint.’
‘Better be,’ she chuckles, the same smile on her face that there is on mine.
She leans into me after I’ve sent off the text, staying that way for the rest of the journey.
I draw in a slow breath against this ache in my chest. Not gonna lie, this is starting to hurt. I always thought I was immune to straight girls, as a kind of defence mechanism.
But against this girl, I’m finding there’s no defence at all.