‘I thought it wouldn’t be right, turning up uninvited, late at night, especially after I ran out on our date.’
‘Stellan, you never need to wait for an invitation to come see me. OK?’
‘OK.’ He nods to himself, processing what I’ve said, taking the reassurance I’m offering.
But my brain’s reeling and I’m speaking again before I have the awareness to stop myself. ‘I thought you left because… well, because we were kissing and I was too…’ I break off for a moment because Stellan’s looking at me, his brow hitched and his lips quirking. Is he amused or does he think I’m insane? ‘I was afraid you didn’t come back last night, and you didn’t call me this morning, because I was too… full on, like, you know, weirdly too into you?’
I hear a guttural exhalation of his breath and he’s shaking his head in protest. ‘Thatdefinitelywas not the reason.’
Hallelujah!Rewarded and reassured, all I can do is grin daftly and hope he’s thinking about picking up where we left off when we were interrupted last night.
‘What has been going on in your head, Sylvie Magnusson?’ he asks, but he’s not mocking, he looks worried, guilty even.
I look down at Toivo and find my cheeks are burning. ‘I don’t know, I get carried away thinking about things sometimes, and I was really enjoying being with you last night, and…’
‘Me too,’ he cuts in, letting me breathe. ‘I’ve been looking for you all over the resort today. I finished delivering the kids’ presents hours ago. I checked here twice, thinking you’d eventually come to see this little dude. Where have you been?’
‘I was at the spa, actually. Had the place all to myself. I guess it’s unusual for women to spend Christmas morning alone wrapped in Finnish seaweed and volcanic clay?’
‘I guess so.’ He laughs a tense laugh, still a tiny bit guilt-stricken. ‘I should have called you last night.’
‘Yes, you should, Santa Stellan. You could have been stuck down a chimney and unable to get out for all I knew! So… what are you doing for the rest of Christmas day?’
‘Nothing,’ he shrugs. ‘Do you have plans?’
‘Well, Iwasgoing to get cleaned up and head back to the restaurant for the Christmas meal tonight, but I wasn’t exactly relishing the idea of eating by myself, not today. Nari’s not with me, you see.’
‘Ah, yes. Niilo told me about his plan. Thejoik. I guess it worked?’
‘You could say that. They scarpered on his snowmobile faster than you could say “ditch the gooseberry”.’
‘I’m glad we’re alone.’
I don’t say anything, but I smile and give him the time he needs to form his words. I’m not going to rush Stellan today. I know that it wasn’t me that made him leave so hastily last night, but I’m still not willing to risk another of his sudden departures. Maybe I’m finally learning what it means to just enjoy being with Stellan without getting lost in him and craving more and more.
‘I have a plan of my own. For us,’ he says.
‘You do?’
‘My truck’s outside.’
I pretend I’m thinking about it for a moment, and see Stellan’s expression change to one of sudden panic, before I laugh aloud. Who am I trying to kid? ‘Let’s go,’ I say.
‘This is one date Toivo can’t come on.’ His voice is gentle. He knows this is going to be difficult.
It takes me longer than it should to lower Toivo into his pen, and I watch as he nestles sleepily against his mother who flicks her tongue over his snout before falling asleep again too. After taking a few pictures with my phone, I stand up, take Stellan’s outstretched hand, and I walk away from him, for good. Goodbye, little Toivo, my Lapland husky.
I’m struck by the awareness that on arriving home tomorrow my flat’s going to feel a whole lot emptier without a pup to greet me, an emptiness I thought I’d started to get over.
I swallow hard as I climb into Stellan’s truck and fasten my seatbelt. There won’t beanybodyto greet me back home. But I’ll have plenty time to wallow in that realisation back in Castlewych.
Stellan’s turning the ignition key and smiling at me from behind the wheel. I’m not going to overthink any of this. Whatever happens today I’m just going to enjoy it, really chilled, like Stellan said yesterday.
As we’re about to pass the resort centre, Stellan pulls the truck to a halt by the restaurant’s kitchen door where a man in chefs’ whites appears. Stellan steps out into the snow and takes a box from him, putting it in the back of the truck and exchanging some friendly words before hopping into the driver’s seat.
‘What was that?’ I ask.
‘There’s no food where we’re going, and no stores, so Rasmus made us a picnic.’ Stellan’s pulling us out onto the road again and throwing the chef a wave.
