Amber felt as if she had fallen into a typical stock photo of a charming Christmas market. She’d often thought about going to visit a winter market in Europe, but the timing was never right.
She held onto Emilia’s arm as they strolled past the wooden huts with various products for sale. Strings of lights ran in a zigzag from building to building, and in the middle of everything was a tall Christmas tree decorated in simple, elegant white lights.
The weather was dark and gloomy. Occasionally snow fell in light dustings, but it only added to the atmosphere.
“This place is perfect,” Amber said for about the tenth time since they arrived.
“Do you not have Christmas markets back home?”
“We do in some places, but they are nothing like this. This is… classy.”
Emilia chuckled. “You are silly.”
It was her go-to descriptor for Amber, said with a light and kind tone. She suspected Emilia was actually so surprised that anything could be different to what she knew that it was automatically labelled as silly.
She tightened her grip on Emilia’s arm and whispered in her ear, “Never change.”
Emilia looked at her curiously but didn’t say anything.
They continued walking for a while, the smells of various foods and drinks mixing into a perfect Christmas blend. She could smell meats cooking and sweet treats flavoured with nutmeg and cinnamon.
“You have to try glögg,” Emilia said, pointing towards a stall.
“Isn’t that mulled wine?”
“Sort of.” Emilia scrunched her nose up, clearly not quite happy with the comparison. “We add raisins and almonds to the bottom of the glass. And it’s much more alcoholic.”
“Oh, I see,” she teased. “You’re trying to get me drunk.”
“No!” Emilia’s cheeks became even redder than the cold air had already made them. “Never, I—”
“I’m just joking,” Amber reassured her. “I can’t try any. I’m driving, remember?”
“Oh, yes, sorry. When I come here with Hugo we always take a taxi. I forgot.”
Amber sighed. She was almost becoming fed up with the mention of Hugo. She was sure he was a very nice man, but it was painfully clear that he was Emilia’s one and only friend. Everything was about Hugo.
Not that it was his fault. Or, in fact, anyone’s fault. It just made Amber feel depressed that someone as wonderful as Emilia wasn’t surrounded by friends.
“No problem, I’ll take your word for it that it’s delicious. I’ll definitely try some of those buns, though.”
She waited for Emilia to correct her and provide the name of the baked goods. When the silence continued, she looked at Emilia who appeared pensive.
“What’s wrong?” Amber wondered if Emilia was starting to feel overwhelmed. She started to mentally plan a quiet route back to where she had parked the car.
“I… I lied to you,” Emilia admitted.
Amber couldn’t help but smile at the guilty expression. “Okay?”
“I do have a phone. Well, I didn’t have one when you first contacted me. Well, I did but it was under my bed, dead. So, really, I didn’t. But I would never have spoken to you on it, phones scare me a lot.”
Amber tried to smother her grin. Emilia really was cute when she worked herself up like this.
“So, you have a phone?”
“Yes. I… I was thinking that I could text Hugo and ask him to come to dinner tonight, if he is free. We could eat some traditional food and have glögg, homemade, of course.”
“That sounds like a great idea if he is available.”
“I’m sure he will be. He doesn’t like to miss out on my cooking,” Emilia boasted.
“I can see why, you’re an excellent cook,” Amber said. “Does this mean we can buy some ingredients and stuff while we’re here?” She looked around at the stalls, her mouth salivating at the prospect of buying some produce and trying it that evening.
“So, you’re not mad?” Emilia asked as she dug around in her handbag.
“About what?”
“The phone.”
“Oh, that! No. As you said, you wouldn’t have spoken to me on it anyway, so what difference does it make?”
Emilia pulled out the most basic phone Amber had seen in years. It looked like something she would have given to her grandmother if she were still alive. She held back the snort of laughter that had risen up within her.
“I feel bad for making you come all the way here,” Emilia confessed.
“Don’t. I’m glad I came. We’re getting to know each other, and I’m having a great time. We do need to talk about that contract at some point, though, before we have too much fun and all the time runs out.”
Emilia paused, staring at the phone.
Amber chuckled. “Do you want some help with that? Do you even know how to text?”
“Do you know how to text in Swedish?” Emilia batted back, quick as a flash.
Amber laughed. “Touché!”
Emilia quickly typed out a text message, proving that her lack of physical technology wasn’t due to a lack of technical ability.
“So, what kind of food should we get?” Amber asked.
“Whatever they have. We should have a true Swedish smorgasbord, or, in this case, a Julbord.”
“Christmas table?” Amber translated, insanely pleased with herself in spite of the relatively simple translation.
“Precis!” Emilia looked genuinely proud of her. She pulled her arm and dragged her towards one of the nearest food stands.
In what came as a shock to Amber, Emilia started engaging in a quick-fire conversation with the stall holder. Amber just watched as they chatted and laughed, with no idea what was being said.
She didn’t mind being left out of the conversation because it was such a joy to see Emilia so happily engaging with someone. It was as if all of her nerves surrounding social interaction had been suspended while she planned her feast.
Amber decided to leave them to it and walked to a nearby stall. The owner smiled warmly at her but said nothing. She got the distinct impression that the man knew she was British, or at least not Swedish. She’d noticed this before, especially at the mall. Before she even opened her mouth to speak, she was being greeted in English rather than Swedish. She wondered what was giving her away.
“We’ll need to stop by the supermarket on the way home.”
Amber jumped at Emilia’s sudden reappearance.
“Oops, sorry.”
“It’s okay, just didn’t see you there.” She looked down and was surprised to see Emilia already had two bags. “Wow, you don’t hang around, do you?”
“No, I’m excited. I can’t wait to share a traditional Christmas meal with you and Hugo. I don’t often do things like this.”
Amber was almost afraid to ask, but she did. “What do you normally do on Christmas Day?”
“Eve.”
“Sorry?”
“Christmas Eve, we celebrate all the things you celebrate on Christmas Day on Christmas Eve, the twenty-fourth.”
“Oh, wow. So, what do you do on the twenty-fifth?”
Emilia shrugged. “Nothing much. Oh, we’ll need raisins for the glögg. I can get that here.”
Amber watched her hurry off to another stall. She realised she never got an answer to what Emilia did over Christmas. She suspected she already knew. Nothing. Or hanging out with Hugo.
Meanwhile, she had so many invites to do things at Christmas that she always ended up feeling guilty towards those she didn’t get time to see. As much as she enjoyed the holidays, they could be stressful and expensive. They often involved seeing around five to six different groups of people, at least three meals of some kind, and far too much drink.
The only good part about not being in communication with the outside world was that she knew friends and family were currently sending her texts inviting her to various events. Not receiving them meant that she might have a moment to herself over the festive period this year.
Most of the people she saw, she only saw once a year. Obligatory socialising. The worst kind.
A happy medium between her style of Christmas and Emilia’s would have been perfect for Amber. A few friends, one location, nice and quiet. No constantly looking at her watch and rushing to the next venue. No hauling bags and bags of gifts to be given and to carry home at the end of the day. The gifts she received were usually socks and toiletries from well-meaning friends who had panic-bought multiple identical items to distribute to all the women they would see over the holidays. She often noticed that her friends had exactly the same scent through to March.
She found that she was looking forward to this new style of Christmas with Emilia. In fact, she had to admit that she really enjoyed Emilia’s company. She was like a breath of fresh air, not at all what Amber had expected to feel. When she left London, she thought she had Emilia all figured out. To her mind, she was boring, predictable, and even to be pitied in some ways.
Amber’s life was full of social events. If she wanted to, she could attend a new party every night. Emilia never left the house. At first glance, Amber had shaken her head and thought Emilia’s life was something to be avoided.
But after a couple of days within the Emilia Lund bubble, she had a different perspective. It was calm and cosy in the Lund house. Evenings were warm and thoughtful. Cuddling up on the sofa with Emilia and just talking about life had been a revelation. She had laughed, reminisced, and engaged in deeper conversation over the last couple of days than she had in the last few months.
Just because she socialised a lot didn’t mean she was actually discussing anything worthwhile. After a while, questions and answers became formulaic.
How was work?
Good, thanks. You?
Did you see that new drama last night?
Isn’t the weather miserable?
Everything became the same. She spoke all the time without saying a word. Maybe it was because Emilia didn’t have anything boring to draw on that the conversations were so rich and invigorating.
There was no discussing television shows. No talking about the weather. No answering the same mindless questions time and time again.
Instead there were thought-provoking discussions about a world of things. While Emilia’s body rarely left the house, her mind was widely travelled due to her books.
Amber had to admit that snuggling up to the attractive woman played a large part in her enjoyment of those evenings. She assumed it was a Swedish thing to get under blankets in the winter months and sit closely together while whispering into the fire-lit room.
Emilia may have been unaffected by the closeness, but Amber certainly wasn’t. Of course, she didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to upset the balance, or worse, offend Emilia.
Snow started to fall again. She took a deep breath and sucked in the crisp air. She would have to leave this magical wonderland soon. Go back to work and normal life. It wasn’t something she was looking forward to at all. The next year would bring a new job, new challenges, and more of the same in the way of hectic nightlife.
She had to talk to Emilia about the contract soon. The idea of sullying their wonderful time with talk of business wasn’t appealing, but she was there for a reason.
Obviously, she had gained Emilia’s trust. The woman had said she only did business with people she knew on a personal level. It was true that they knew each other well. In a short space of time, they had become friends, and despite Amber’s desperate attempts to push her feelings down, she knew that if the circumstances were different she would have happily been more than friends with Emilia.
She turned and sought out Emilia, quickly finding her chatting with another stallholder. Snowflakes were sticking to her woollen hat. She looked adorable. Amber had to stop herself from going to her and sweeping her into a warm hug.
Just keep it together for another couple of days, Amber told herself. You can make it through.