Hmm. ‘I’m not sure,’ I answer, actually thinking about her question. ‘I don’t think so. But it suits me, no? Being a raving bitch?’
We lock eyes again and she nods, the cow, but I can see her suppressing a smile.
With that I take off, leaving her in my wake in a spray of powder, and let the icy air race over my cheeks and fill my lungs. I hunch low, tunnels of lights in the dark overhead, soaring over the snow on my blades. My heart, though heavy, lifting itself just high enough to come along for the ride.
I pick up speed, and for the final twenty minutes let the thoughts of the others, one by one, melt into the crevices left behind me.
Most of the others.
Chapter 21
Cali
This is so surreal. Here I am wandering about in another new city, in the middle of Canada, in the snow, it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow. I’m on my way to a thing called the Arctic Glacier Winter Park and so far I’ve run into both Sara and Joe heading the same way. It could almost be like old times, like when London got heavy snowfall and we all went for a wander about and people were building snowmen outside Harrods and stuff.
Except, this time, we’re all pretending we haven’t seen each other.
I’m not sure what to expect from the park, but when I arrive, I shiver with excitement (and cold).
I study the sign. Looks like you can walk or skate along the trails, and I’m about to start walking because Lord knows how shit I’ll be on ice skates, I’ve only ever done it around in circles on ice rinks that pop-up in the centre of London. Then I spot Joss, Ember and Luke in the line to get some rental skates.
Traitors!
No, that’s not fair. Luke and Ember always got on well, maybe it’s good they hang out; she might listen to him when he tries to talk her out of crashing the wedding. The Ember and Joss duo are puzzling to me, but from here it certainly doesn’t look like they’ve become fast friends again.
Where have Sara and Joe gone? I look around, and see them nearby, angled away from each other, Joe on his phone and Sara ordering a mulled wine from a vendor.
‘Shall we go skating?’ I ask, trudging over the snow to them.
‘We?’ asks Sara, pulling her curls into a messy low bun before pulling her hat down over her ears.
‘We don’t have to stick together,’ I say. We don’t actually have to do this together at all, but I guess I’m feeling a little left out.
‘I’m sorry, but what do you think we’re doing here?’
I glance at Joe. ‘We’re spending the evening in Winnipeg, at the same place, so I thought we might as well spend it together.’
‘But what are we’ – she gestures at the three of us – ‘doing?’
‘I guess we’re reconnecting,’ offers up Joe.
‘Because Bryn says so?’
‘Because Bryn’s getting married,’ I answer.
‘Then what?’
She has a point. We idle beside the mulled wine cart, the sound of Christmas in the city humming around us, of snow under boots, of laughter drifting over from the skating trails. My breath is visible in the cold, lit up by the glow of Christmas lights.
‘I don’t know,’ I say honestly. ‘I think it’s too early to tell.’
Sara nods. It’s not exactly a yes or no, but she heads towards the queue for the skates so I totter behind her, Joe beside me.
I’m given a hefty pair of black ice-skating boots which I spend a long time trying to lace on through cold fingers. My gloves are not Canada-appropriate, the wool too thin and the fingers too loose so I keep tying the fingertips into the boot laces.
Just as I’m about to give up, someone crouches in front of me, takes my foot and yanks the laces tightly.
‘Oh! Thank you—’ I look up to see a head of sandy hair, and Luke’s fingers working their way around the lacing.
