Ember shakes her head. ‘No. I travelled light.’
‘You came.’ I couldn’t help it, that just slipped out of my mouth. I didn’t mean to sound so relieved.
‘I said I would,’ she replies, a flatness to her voice.
Why is she acting so mad at me? Because I stopped her getting on the plane? Is she wishing she was in Vancouver already, imagining that she’d be waking up beside a freshly single Bryn, ready to celebrate Christmas as a reunited couple? Maybe. But I think it’s more likely that if she’d gone to Vancouver, she might have been faced with a pretty irate bride-to-be ex-girlfriend.
There’s no time to imagine every potential scenario string right now, because we have to get to our train. ‘This way,’ I say, and she falls into step beside me as we dodge the crowds and follow the signs to our platform.
Showing our tickets, we make our way to where the rest of our group of misfits are hanging about beside one of the rows of gleaming red and gold carriages that make up our cross-Canada train. Nobody is talking to each other.
‘Right, we’re all here,’ I declare, because sometimes stating the obvious is as good a filler as anything, when nobody else seems to want to chime in. ‘Shall we say goodbye to Toronto and jump on board?’
Without a word, Joss heads up the steps and in through one of the train carriage doors before you could even say all aboard.
‘Where’s your cabin, Ember?’ asks Luke.
She studies her ticket and the numbers on the carriages for a moment. ‘I’m down that way.’
It’ll be fine that we aren’t together, won’t it? I don’t need to keep her under lock and key. I mean, it’s not like she can jump off the train halfway and catch a flight. Well, I suppose she could. ‘Shall we say we’ll see you—’
‘I’m sure I’ll see you on board.’ With a sigh, Ember turns and walks off further down the platform. I watch her for a moment, then Joe passes my vision, climbing into the train. Sara follows, and Luke steps to the side, gesturing for me to go ahead of him.
I hope he isn’t looking at my bum as I climb up ahead of him.
But secretly I hope he is.
Shuffling into the carriage, I feel like I’ve stepped back in time. I’m now a passenger in an Agatha Christie novel (hopefully with a little less murdering. You never know though, hahahaha, oh God). I’m faced with neat, soft seats on either side of me, then a series of small enclosed sections.
‘What’s happening?’ I ask the stand-off that’s occurring in the middle of the carriage corridor.
‘She only booked us three cabins.’ Joss’s nostrils are flaring like a bull. ‘Between five of us.’
‘Some of us are sharing?’ Luke asks from behind me. His breath tickles the hair on the back of my head, and a heat rises in me.
‘I can’t believe this,’ Sara mutters.
‘Oh my God . . .’ In my head that sounded a lot more convincing, but actually I already knew this was going to be the case. Bryn did say it in her message. And I did spend half the night wondering if Luke and I would end up together. Even so, nobody likes a know-it-all. ‘I never even clocked we were going to have to do that,’ I add. Just for good measure.
Luke leans around me to peer into one of the cabins, a light chuckle only I can hear escaping his lips. He catches me looking at them, and I turn away quickly.
Each cabin is meant for two people to share, containing two seats, a little storage unit and a fold-away loo. I look around, but can’t quite figure out how it . . . works. On the website I saw pictures of snuggly little bunk beds stacked on top of each other.
‘So the seats fold back?’ I ask.
‘I think they convert to two berths – a bunk on top of another bunk,’ says Sara.
Ah. ‘Clever. Who wants to share?’ Don’t look at Luke. Do not look at Luke.
‘I’ll take the cabin on my own,’ Joe offers with a shrug that suggests he just wants some peace and quiet from his sister already.
No such luck. ‘Don’t be so bloody selfish,’ hisses Joss. ‘Why should you get the solo room? Not that I’m sleeping in there on my own; what if I fall over the toilet in the night and crack my head open?’
‘I would want to see that,’ mutters Joe with a smirk, and Joss sends daggers at him via her eyeballs.
‘Maybe you two should share. You are brother and sister,’ I offer. I’m so curious about them. They always used to bicker, but were so close. They lived together for those years at the townhouse, after all. They started a business together. And I know it all went south, but surely, they’ve – of any of us – made up since then? So why the simmering rage between the two of them?
‘Do we want to keep the whole train awake listening to them fight?’ Luke says this to me, a hint of a smile on his lips, which I mirror.
