Читать книгу The First Christmas Without You: - Michelle Betham - Страница 7

I looked out of the window as the plane slowly made its descent into Kittila airport, snow falling from the already darkened sky even though it was only one-thirty in the afternoon. Craning my neck as the plane grew ever closer to the rapidly whitening runway, I was sure I could see ice forming on the wings but, thankfully, I had no time to inspect more closely as I was thrown back in my seat, the bumpy but otherwise perfect landing signalling our arrival into the Arctic Circle.

I closed my eyes for a second and exhaled. There was still a very small part of me that hoped that, when I opened them, I’d be back home in Tynemouth, sitting by my beautiful open fire listening to some old-school Stevie Nicks and wishing – wishing things were different. But they weren’t. And I was trying hard to get used to it, so I hoped this holiday might actually make that journey a little easier. Matt had certainly promised to help take my mind off things, although I doubted very much that a snowboarding lesson from a thirty-six-year-old rocker who was having trouble growing up was something that would suddenly help me turn my life around.

‘You okay, Jess?’ Matt’s voice broke into my thoughts and I looked at him. My baby brother. We’d always been close, but ever since Jase’s death we’d grown even closer. After all, Jase had been one of Matt’s closest friends, so losing him had been hard for the both of us. He’d just handled it a hell of a lot better than me.

‘I’m fine,’ I replied, squeezing his hand as the seatbelt signs clicked off and everyone began shuffling about, standing up and moving out into the narrow aisle to retrieve their luggage from the overhead lockers.

‘You sure?’ Matt asked, his blue eyes looking at me with that same concerned look that I was actually quite tired of seeing now. Yeah. It was definitely time to start pulling myself together and showing people that I didn’t need their sympathy anymore. I was strong. I could do this. I just wished I didn’t have to.

‘Matt, I’m fine, alright? Stop fussing. You’re as bad as Mum.’

‘I just care about you, Sis,’ he said, stuffing a copy of Kerrang! into his bag.

‘Yeah, I know you do,’ I sighed, wrapping my scarf tightly round my neck as the cabin doors were opened and a blast of ice-cold air surged through the plane’s interior, causing many of the passengers to gasp out loud at the freezing temperatures that were waiting for us all outside. But this was Christmas in Lapland – and it just wouldn’t be the same without the snow and the cold and the prospect of cosy nights in warm, wood-panelled bars and restaurants, would it? Suddenly, a small surge of excitement shot right through me, something I hadn’t felt in a long while. Maybe this holiday really would be the making of me. Maybe this was what I’d needed all along, a break from the memories and a past that people always told me was holding me back. Deep down I knew I didn’t have to stay locked inside some kind of bubble to remember Jase. He’d never leave me; I knew that. He’d always be there; he’d always be with me. I would never let the memory of him fade and I was sure, more than anything, that he wouldn’t want me to be sad. He’d want me to move on. He’d want me to be happy again. Isn’t that what people had been telling me for months now?

‘You’re smiling,’ Matt pointed out, edging his way into the narrow aisle as everyone began shuffling towards the exit.

‘So?’ I asked, following him out of our seats, pulling my hat down firmly onto my head as another blast of cold air swept through the plane.

‘Well, it’s just that smiling isn’t something I’ve seen you do all that much of lately, that’s all.’

I frowned. Had I really been that miserable? Had it really showed that much?

‘We’re gonna have a blast, Jess,’ Matt said, turning to me before we started filing down the steps that led us out into the dark and cold Lapland afternoon, the lights of the small terminal building right in front of us shining onto the tarmac. ‘I promise you that.’

I smiled at him again, burying my face into my scarf and shoving my hands in my pockets as the freezing air hit me, making me glad I’d decided to put those thermals on in the toilets half an hour ago when I had begun to feel the cold biting through the denim of my jeans.

We were going to have a blast. And there was a little part of me, somewhere, that was kind of looking forward to that. I had a good feeling about this place. I had a very good feeling.