‘Are you sure? It’s not . . .’
‘No, it’s a good thing. We’ll talk tomorrow.’
At that moment, Ember ascends the stairs. She’s in a jade off-shoulder sweatshirt and jade bejewelled miniskirt. She looks like the coolest mermaid ever, and I’m just background noise when she and Alex are drawn together, all big smiles and flirty, happy chemistry.
I leave them to it, and go to get myself a drink. Word must have got out, because there are a few new faces creeping up the stairs, peering at our party and when I wave them up, they’re also glammed in sequins and Christmas jumpers. The more the merrier! I sway to the music, waiting for the one person I really want to be here to arrive.
Next to the party though is Joe, who hasn’t changed from earlier and has one side of hair crumpled like he’s been sleeping up until thirty seconds ago. I hold out a fresh glass of Prosecco to him and tears spring to my eyes as, instead of accepting it, he pulls me into a hug. A hug. Oh my God, it’s been a while.
‘For what it’s worth, Cali,’ he says into my hair, ‘I just want to say I’m sorry, for everything. For whatever stupid crap I might have said in the heat of the moment, for not answering when you tried to call.’
‘Oh my . . . Joe . . . I’m sorry too,’ I say into his shoulder. ‘I just want you guys back.’
Is this really happening? Did I just get a friend back?
Joe raises his glass and clinks it against mine, before heading off down the carriage, dancing on his own to the music.
I hate that I’m waiting for him to arrive. But even if I pretend I’m not, if I face away from the stairs, if I focus on the music, if I strike up a conversation with someone new, I’m still waiting for him. It’s kind of agony.
Joss appears at my side again, filling up her glass. Her spaghetti-strapped dress seems, in a way, out of place when surrounded by snow, but it’s actually pretty warm up here with all these bodies.
‘Joss,’ I start. Is there a better time to do this than now? I’m not sure there is.
But she holds out her hand. ‘Can we not? Haven’t we both just simmered down?’
‘Don’t we have to, though? What happened earlier can’t keep happening, especially not once we hit Vancouver. And this is our last night before we get to Bryn.’
Underneath us, there’s a grinding on the tracks, a low-pitched but loud noise letting out a series of clunks.
‘It’s okay,’ calls out Alex. ‘It’s just the train powering down further to save fuel.’
‘Shouldn’t it be trying to move, though?’ I say. Who knew train maintenance was my forte?
Alex shakes her head. ‘This is normal. In this kind of circumstance. We just have to have patience and we’ll start moving again when we can.’
She turns away, but I see her glance out the window down at the ground below, where the snow is blowing drifts up the side of the carriage.
I’m tallying us up. Ember is chatting with Alex. Sara and Joe are looking out of the window. Joss is hovering beside me, probably searching for something to say, like I am (how did we used to spend hours talking without even taking a breath? That feels like another life).
And finally, over her shoulder, Luke ascends the stairs.
As he reaches the top, he scans the carriage, and his gaze settles on me.
Half a second later, the lights flicker out.
I move towards the stairs, stumbling over one of the seats on my way, as nervous chatter builds around me in the dark.
‘Luke?’ I call out, stretching my hand forward.
Without any internal lighting, the gravity of the snowstorm happening outside the train is magnified, and for the first time I see it for what it is. The layer of snow on top of the domed ceiling is so thick, so dense, it’s making the glass creak. With the music cut, the noise of the wind howling is like a foghorn to our ears. Giant snowflakes pelt at the windows, slapping against the sides of the carriage like it’s trying to get in.
A few moments later, a generator somewhere in the depths of the train kicks in, and the low-level emergency lights flicker back on. The train judders, and someone, somewhere in another carriage, screams.
Luke. I reach over the stair banister and grab for him as he stumbles back. We catch each other, hold on, his palm in mine and as he steadies himself, he loosens his grip but runs a thumb over the back of my hand.
We hold onto each other as he comes up the final stairs, and at the top, almost on an autopilot which had never been switched off, he lets go of my hand and pulls me into a hug, his arms wrapping my neck while mine wrap his waist.
I lean into his chest and we breathe against each other. ‘You okay?’ he whispers into my ear.
