A Swedish Christmas Fairy Tale Read online

  Amber nodded eagerly, not wishing to admit that she never left the office at lunchtime. Bronwyn’s reign of terror had gone so far as to encourage people to bring or buy their lunch in the morning and then eat at their desks.

  “Have you ever seen St Paul’s?”

  “No, I’ve never been to Britain,” Emilia replied.

  “Oh, well, you must visit sometime. I’d love to show you around,” Amber offered.

  “I like it here,” Emilia said simply. “My little corner of the world.” She focused on cutting her slice of cake into equal pieces with the edge of her fork.

  Spoken like a true recluse, Amber thought.

  “I don’t travel much either,” she confessed. Although her lack of travel ambition was down to lack of funds and holiday time.

  Emilia looked up thoughtfully. “I always wanted to travel. I had grand plans of travelling around the world. I keep my passport up to date just in case I ever decide to go.”

  Amber wondered, not for the first time, how much money Emilia might be making in royalty payments. She was the sole beneficiary of her grandmother’s books, a large collection that sold well throughout the world. She lived a simple life, one in which it seemed she hardly ever left the house. And she certainly had no crushing phone and Internet bills to pay.

  She sat back in her chair to steel herself. Money wasn’t going to be a factor in convincing Emilia to do anything. Not when she had a stream of passive income derived from royalty payments.

  Amber fantasised about such things like others dreamt about lottery wins. Having something so beloved and creative in your family, supporting your lifestyle, must have been incredible.

  She wondered if Emilia knew how lucky she was.

  “So, what do you do in London? Aside from work?” Emilia pressed.

  A drunken Christmas event from the previous week flashed before Amber’s eyes. There was no way she was going to tell Emilia about that. She was sure that Emilia wouldn’t approve of the parties-and-alcohol lifestyle that she’d slipped into after university and never managed to let go of.

  She knew she needed to grow up and settle down.

  One day.

  “Um. I like movies, I go to the cinema a lot. And the theatre when I can afford it. Luckily, a lot of my friends from university live in or around London, so I can meet up with them quite a lot.”

  Emilia didn’t look too impressed. Amber supposed that someone who preferred spending so much time at home wouldn’t like any of those things. She thought on her feet and quickly spoke again. “And, of course, I love reading. But a lot of the time I’m reading for work, so I don’t read in my downtime that much.”

  Emilia chuckled. “We couldn’t be more different. I can’t recall the last time I saw a movie. And I read all of the time. One of the few places I go frequently is the local library, but, between you and me, that is only to try to preserve it. I fear it may close down if it is not used, and I’m pretty sure that I’m the only person in town who uses it. A bookstore in Malmö send me lists of their new releases, and I write to them to let them know which books I would like. Every two weeks I have a large delivery of books that I almost devour.”

  Amber noted that Emilia was practically quivering with excitement. She was relived to find something they could discuss, something they had in common. If Emilia was passionate about books, the meeting could possibly be saved.

  “That’s a lot of books! You must have an enormous library to store them all.”

  Emilia blushed, apparently realising her exuberance. “I only keep a few. The ones I don’t think I’ll read again, I donate to the library.”

  Amber smiled. “So, you give books to the library… and borrow from the library?”

  “I know, I know, I’m probably the only person who uses it and I’m single-handedly stocking it.” Emilia laughed softly. “My friend, Hugo, says I should cut out the middleman and just operate it from my home.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Amber said. In her mind she was already thinking of the logistics of having her very own library. She’d definitely have a café to sell members some hot drinks and cake. And there’d have to be a book club.

  “That sounds horrible.” Emilia visibly shuddered. “As I said before, we’re very different.”

  “Differences are good,” Amber explained. “Some of my closest friends are completely opposite to me, but we still get on. If we were all the same, then life would be very boring. I bet in all the books you’ve read and enjoyed, most of the protagonists are completely at odds with each other and still end up working well together?”

  Emilia twisted her coffee mug in her hands. “That is true. So you think, despite our differences, we could be friends?”

  It was a strange question, Amber thought.

  Then again, it was a strange meeting. Everything about Emilia’s way of communicating was slightly odd. Amber assumed that it had to do with the fact that she didn’t get out much.

  She did her best to make eye contact with the elusive Emilia. “You can never have too many friends,” she said.

  8

  Making Friends

  Emilia didn’t want to admit that she could count her friends on one finger. She wondered how many friends Amber had. Lots, she imagined. The woman was confident and easy to talk to. In the short time they’d shared coffee, Emilia felt oddly at ease, something that never happened when she was out in public.

  “That is true,” she agreed with Amber. She assumed there wasn’t any number where one would consider they had too many friends, as if fifty friends were perfectly reasonable but fifty-one would be considered utter madness.

  She imagined Amber was good to have as a friend. Easy-going, quick with jokes, intelligent, and well-read—all the things that people surely wanted in a friend. All the things she would want.

  She couldn’t imagine the look on Hugo’s face if he came to visit one day and Amber was visiting. He’d probably assume he was in the wrong house and turn around to leave again. Then Emilia would introduce her friend Amber to her other friend Hugo. Amber wouldn’t have a clue why that was so funny, but Hugo would be stunned into silence.

  “Is something funny?”

  Amber was looking at her with a questioning smile, and she realised that she had been softly laughing to herself at the mental image she had dreamed up.

  “No, just something I was thinking about,” Emilia said. “What do you think of Sweden so far? Have you been before?”

  “It’s beautiful. I came to Malmö for a quick weekend trip a while ago, but never out of the city,” Amber explained. “I enjoyed the train journey up here. You have some lovely countryside.”

  Emilia felt proud that her home county had pleased Amber. The south of Sweden wasn’t to everyone’s liking. It was very flat and agricultural, which meant that in the wintertime it could look very barren and bleak.

  But Amber had enjoyed the views, which meant she was also a fan of the landscape where Emilia took frequent walks. The more Emilia thought about it, the more she knew she could be great friends with Amber. The chat was by far the most positive social interaction she had been involved in for years.

  “There’s a lake near my home, it’s great for walking around,” Emilia said.

  “That sounds lovely,” Amber replied. “Most of my walking is done in the city. We have a lot of green spaces in London but nothing like around here.”

  “I love to walk. In fact, I don’t own a car, so I have to walk almost everywhere. Unless I cycle, which I don’t do in the winter.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I rode a bike.” Amber turned to look at the bakery cabinet. “Would it be okay if I got a sandwich? I’m starting to get a bit hungry.”

  “Absolut, no problem,” Emilia said.

  Amber stood up. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, I’m fine, but thank you.”

  Amber walked over to the cabinet and started speaking with the waitress again. Emilia watched her eagerly. She was su
rprised to realise that she was enjoying her meeting with Amber.

  Usually, she’d be eager to go home and return to her normal schedule, but instead she found herself worried about time running out. She didn’t know when Amber’s flight home was or when she would have to leave to get to the airport.

  She felt like she was on the cusp of making a friend, but all that was about to be ruined by Amber going home. Not to mention that Hugo wasn’t here to see how well she’d been doing. But Hugo was ever the pessimist, he’d probably claim that Amber was only there for business, not fully understanding the connection they’d made.

  Another idea started to form in her mind.

  Could I? she wondered. No, no. It would be wrong…

  Or would it?

  Despite her initial panic, her last idea had worked out well. Arranging to meet Amber had been a surprising success. Maybe her new idea would be as effective.

  Amber returned with a handful of coins in the palm of her hand, looking at them with confusion.

  “I’ll admit, I’m not great with numbers, so paying fifty-something for a sandwich is a weird experience. On the other hand, I did feel very rich when I got my money changed up at the airport.”

  “I imagine I would feel like I was paying far too little for things in Britain,” Emilia said. “Paying five of something rather than fifty.”

  “Currency is strange,” Amber said.

  Emilia had had enough of small talk. She wanted to get straight to the point of her new scheme. The need to convert Amber from business acquaintance to friend was strong, and the desire for Hugo to see her manage it was equally convincing.

  But Amber would likely need a little encouragement to spend more time with her in Sweden.

  Her palms started to sweat as she put her new plan into action.

  “I’ll be honest with you,” Emilia said. “I don’t do business with people I don’t know well. My grandmother’s books are very precious to me. I grew up with them, and I know the love that was poured into them.”

  “Of course, I can absolutely understand that,” Amber quickly agreed.

  “I’m not going to get to know you properly in this short meeting, but I can see that we could maybe work together in the future, if we connected. So, I’d like to offer you the chance to visit with me for a few days. You could stay a while, we could get to know each other and take some walks around the lake, maybe visit the local Christmas markets.”

  “Oh, well, I…” Amber trailed off.

  Emilia quickly took another bite of her cake. She knew it was wrong to try to convince Amber to stay under the guise that she would talk about business with her. She had no intention of ever talking about business—with anyone. But if she could get Amber to spend time with her, she’d probably become a friend and then forget all about the business side of things anyway. She just needed more time with Amber to make that connection.

  “I have a guesthouse,” Emilia added. “Or you can stay in a hotel, but there aren’t many nice hotels near where I live.”

  “That’s very kind of you to offer,” Amber said. “I’m not sure if I can get the time off work.”

  “But surely it is for work?” Emilia said, feeling immediately guilty at the lie slipping from her lips so easily.

  “That’s true. I’d have to speak to my boss, though. I’m not sure what she’d say…”

  “How about next week? You can stay for a few days before Christmas? I can’t imagine much gets done in an office before Christmas anyway.”

  Amber looked unsure, so Emilia knew she had to drive the point home.

  “I couldn’t possibly hand over my grandmother’s beloved stories to someone who didn’t understand them. I’d need to know that you knew the meaning behind them all and felt the same way about them as I do. And there are a lot of books.” Emilia nearly felt sick at herself for the lies that were so easily coming to her.

  She reminded herself that it was all for a good cause. Once they had spent time together then they would be friends. Amber would surely appreciate another friend above that of a stupid business agreement. She’d probably forget all about the contract once they were friends. And Amber herself had just said that you can never have too many friends.

  Amber still looked pensive. Emilia knew she had to go in for the kill. She picked up her bag and started to pull on her gloves.

  “I’m sorry, I really need to get going. I am meeting someone,” she lied. “The offer is open to you, you have my address to tell me if you can come. If you are serious about getting to know me… and the books, of course.”

  “I am serious, very serious,” Amber said. “I’m sure I can swing it with my boss.”

  Emilia paused in putting her second glove on.

  “Wonderful,” she said. “What dates are you thinking?”

  9

  Going Home

  Amber stared out of the plane window into the darkness. She had no idea how she was going to convince Bronwyn to allow her to return to Sweden for a few days next week. It was probably a moot point as Bronwyn would probably fire her the second she stepped foot into the office without a signed contract anyway.

  The problem was, Amber genuinely felt she could get Emilia onside. It was just a matter of bonding with the woman and proving to her that she would handle her grandmother’s life’s work with respect.

  It was true that they had little in common, but she still felt like she had enough similarities with Emilia to convince her that her intentions were true. Yes, Walker Clay’s ultimate goal was to make money, but a portion of that money would go to Emilia. More importantly, the books would be rejuvenated and, hopefully, attract more readers.

  She realised she’d gone into the meeting with the wrong kind of preparation. She had treated it like any other business setting. Obviously, that was never going to be the case when someone like Emilia was involved, someone who never attended business meetings and was more at home in a bakery that hadn’t been decorated since the early nineties.

  As strange as Emilia’s request was, on some level Amber understood it. If she were in control of her family legacy, she’d want to know who she was dealing with and get to know them on a personal level.

  But, as the person trying to get a contract signed, the idea of staying with Emilia for a few days was terrifying. She was comfortable enough in her abilities to know that she could remain professional for the length of a meeting, even several back-to-back meetings. But to stay for a few days with Emilia, allowing Ms Lund to question and prod her to check she was suitable for her grandmother’s stories, that would be a challenge.

  Work Amber and Home Amber were different people. She defied anyone to not compartmentalise their life in some way when it came to their career and personal lives. She didn’t know if she could maintain her professional exterior for days, and nights, at a time, all while living under Emilia’s roof.

  And she’d have to take up Emilia’s offer of staying in her guesthouse. She couldn’t afford a hotel, even if there was a suitable one locally, and there was no way Walker Clay would pay for one.

  If Walker Clay allowed her to go at all, she mentally corrected herself. That was another bridge she needed to cross. She had until the plane landed to come up with something to tell Bronwyn.

  Bronwyn Walker seemingly never slept. Emails would arrive in Amber’s inbox throughout the night and over the course of every weekend. Phone calls were a common occurrence, too. She knew that her boss would be watching her flight’s progress on some online tracking service, preparing to call the very moment the aircraft landed.

  Unfortunately, there could be no flight long enough for Amber to come up with a reasonable excuse as to why she had gone to Sweden for a meeting and returned with nothing. Nothing except another request to go back to Sweden, this time for much longer.

  She leaned her head back against the headrest. I’m so fired.

  Amber walked through the quiet airport, smothering a yawn with her hand. All of the shops and restauran
ts were closed, so her chance of grabbing something for a late dinner was non-existent.

  It was the second time that day that she was passing through the airport and everything seemed deserted. She knew that in the middle of the day the place had probably been hopping with people, some going on holiday to sunny destinations or even getting away for Christmas early. And here she was, returning from a day trip to Sweden which had taken hours and produced nothing.

  To add insult to injury, her phone rang.

  She still hadn’t decided what to tell her boss. She was so physically and mentally exhausted by the day that she hadn’t been able to come up with anything.

  “Hi Bronwyn,” she answered the call.

  “I take it you have returned with a signed contract and you’ll be presenting your ideas to me tomorrow morning? I’d like to get this project up and running immediately.”

  “I don’t have the signed contract,” she admitted. There was no need to beat around the bush.

  “I see.” Ice dripped from Bronwyn’s tone.

  “She’s incredibly reclusive, hates anything to do with business. Which is probably why these rights have never been renewed before. She wants to work with people she knows and likes. She’s old-fashioned like that,” Amber explained.

  “So, she didn’t like you either?” Bronwyn’s voice became playful, the tone she used just before making a terrible announcement. She’d made a joke about all the weight that people would lose just before she took all the vending machines away.

  Either? Amber thought.

  “Well, she invited me to stay at her house for a few days,” she said, “so she couldn’t have disliked me that much.”

  There was a pause. “What?” Bronwyn finally asked.

  It suddenly hit Amber that Bronwyn wasn’t the kind of person to allow rights to expire or come so close to expiring. Especially not something that could be relaunched like the Lund collection.