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 travelling 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.