Maddy’s Christmas Wedding (Little Duck Pond Cafe #37)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘I’ve never felt cold like this. Never!’ laughed Katja as we descended the plane steps and trudged across the thick blanket of snow. It was almost dark now but the lights of Rovaniemi’s airport building were blazing invitingly.

‘It had better be warm in there,’ muttered Maddy, gasping in the frigid air.

‘I’m sure it will be,’ said Jaz. ‘Gosh, my teeth are actually chattering. I thought that was just something they wrote in stories.’

Laurel laughed. ‘I thought I’d come well-equipped with my thermal undies, but I guess we need thermal everything over here.’

‘When do we pick up the thermal gear we rented?’ I asked, digging my hands deep into the pockets of my puffa jacket.

‘Tomorrow morning,’ said Maddy.

‘Hopefully the chalet will be cosy and some food will warm us all up,’ said Katja.

‘Forget dinner,’ laughed Maddy, who seemed in slightly better spirits now. ‘I’m having a glass of fizz first to launch this hen party in style!’

*****

A spacious taxi took us on the ten-minute journey from the airport to our chalet, which the driver told us was a ten-minute walk from the centre of Rovaniemi, where a lot of the Christmassy fun happened.

Stepping out of the warm taxi, we all gasped as the freezing air hit our lungs. The taxi had registered an outdoor temperature of minus fourteen degrees, and the shock was like jumping from a sizzling Spanish poolside into icy cold water.

After the taxi drove away, we stood for a moment in a little huddle with our bags, too awed by our surroundings and the incredible midnight blue sky overhead to move.

‘It’s so clear. There must be millions of stars . . . billions!’ I breathed in wonder.

‘You feel like you could almost reach up and touch one,’ agreed Laurel, as we all gazed upwards.

‘It’s never like this at home,’ pointed out Katja.

‘Light pollution,’ said Jaz. ‘There’s very little of the stuff in the Arctic Circle.’

I glanced at Maddy, who was standing next to me. Her mouth was slightly open, her head tipped up to the sky. ‘I can’t believe your mum and dad have given us this amazing experience, Maddy. How will we ever be able to thank them?’

‘No need,’ said Maddy. ‘Thank you for coming. It wouldn’t be the same without you girls to share it with.’ She rubbed her arms vigorously. ‘Bloody hell, it’s colder than a penguin’s tuxedo. Right, are we going inside, then? According to Auntie Evie, this chalet is one of their more basic ones but we get a bedroom each. I can’t wait to see what it’s like.’

We were booked into the chalet for the first two nights of our stay, but for our final night, Auntie Evie had really outdone herself. We were going to be staying in a glass igloo by a frozen lake, a short distance from Rovaniemi, and I was so excited about this. It meant we’d be able to lie in bed and gaze at the sky and – if we were very lucky – we might even catch a glimpse of the Northern Lights.

For a ‘basic chalet’, we were all pleasantly surprised. The clean and stylish facilities were more like a four-star hotel. There was a welcome basket on the table, filled with breakfast pastries, bread, jams in little pots and savoury sauces, too. Maddy swung open the fridge and brought out some film-wrapped steaks followed by the biggest bottle of champagne I’d ever seen.

‘That’s a magnum, isn’t it?’ I gazed at it appreciatively. ‘Twice the size of a normal bottle? Or is it called a jeroboam?’

Maddy snatched up a tea towel with a delighted grin and dried off the condensation on the bottle. ‘It’s a magnum. Double the size of a regular bottle. A jeroboam is a double magnum.’

‘You learn something new every day,’ smiled Laurel.

‘You do indeed. Including how generous my lovely Auntie Evie is.’ Maddy set the bottle down and opened the fridge again. ‘I’ve just realised how hungry I am.’

‘That’s because you missed the gingerbread and the coffee we had at the airport,’ said Laurel.

‘Yes, where were you, Maddy?’ asked Jaz. ‘We thought you were going to miss the flight.’

Maddy gave an odd little smile – the sort that meant she wasn’t really amused. ‘Nowhere in particular. Looking at the snow.’ Turning away, she pulled a bag of chips from the freezer compartment. ‘Right, steak and chips everyone, washed down with this wonderful champers?’

‘Don’t you want to save the champagne for a proper occasion?’ I said doubtfully. It just seemed . . . wrong somehow . . . to open that beautiful bottle and quaff it down with our chips as if it was just any old bottle of wine.

‘What proper occasion?’ Maddy was already using a knife to remove the silvery foil covering the cork.

I laughed. ‘Forget I said that. Rob’s thriftiness has obviously rubbed off on me. This is a proper occasion. It’s the real start of your hen party.’

Maddy grinned at me. ‘Exactly. So why on earth wait? Right, stand back everyone.’ With an expression of intense concentration, she held the bottle between her knees and attempted to push off the cork, grunting with the effort, but it remained stubbornly in place.

‘You twist it,’ said Jaz. ‘Here, let me.’

Maddy handed it over, and Jaz – looking rather professional – held the bottle firmly in one hand and twisted with the other, and sure enough, the cork began to come away.

‘I can’t bear the suspense,’ laughed Katja. ‘I hate opening champagne. It’s always so unpredictable.’

A second later, the cork popped, blasting into the air and narrowly missing the stylish light-fitting overhead. The champagne fizzed over, and Laurel and I darted forward and grabbed a glass each to catch every precious drop.

‘To the bride-to-be.’ Jaz held up her glass in a toast. ‘May your hen party turn out to be the most fantastically memorable experience.’

‘The bride-to-be!’ We all followed suit.

Maddy grinned. ‘Memorable for all the right reasons, hopefully.’ She held up her glass. ‘Thanks, girls. Now, everyone hungry?’

In between exploring the chalet and venturing out onto the balcony for approximately three minutes – laughing and gasping as the icy air hit our lungs – we eventually managed to get some food ready and on the table. Having already drunk a couple of glasses of champagne each – apart from Laurel, who was on the softies – we were all ravenous by then, and we demolished the tasty dinner in double-quick time.

After clearing away, we all flopped out in the super-comfy sitting room, glasses at our sides. Smiling, I tried to suppress a yawn but failed miserably, which of course set everyone else off.

‘Sorry to be a party pooper but I’m thinking very fondly of my large and very cosy-looking bed,’ Jaz said.

‘Me, too,’ I admitted. ‘And I’m warning you all – absolutely no racing into my room at five-thirty in the morning and jumping up and down on my bed, okay?’

We all chuckled and Katja murmured, ‘Poor Rob.’

‘All alone with a couple of boisterous twins,’ reflected Jaz. ‘He didn’t know what he was in for when he waved bye-bye to you at the airport, Fen.’

I laughed. ‘Well, I intend to enjoy every single minute of my freedom. I’ll miss them, of course, and I’ll be desperate to get back by the time we fly home. But in the meantime . . .’ I yawned hugely, stretching up my arms and smiling.

‘You could even have a lie-in tomorrow,’ pointed out Jaz.

‘A lie-in? What’s one of those? I’ve totally forgotten.’

Katja gave a little shriek. ‘Hey, it’s nearly one in the morning! I thought it was the Finnish fresh air that was making me droop with tiredness but it’s actually because it’s past my bedtime.’

‘It’s probably the air as well,’ said Laurel. ‘I’ve a feeling I’m going to sleep very soundly while I’m here.’

There were murmurs of agreement and we all started getting up to make our way upstairs.

‘I’ve texted Rob to say we’ve arrived safely but I’m going to FaceTime in the morning when the twins are awake. Just to see how they’re getting on without me.’

Jaz chuckled. ‘Whenever I left Harry in charge for the day when Emma was a toddler, I’d come home to find him crashed out on the sofa, surrounded by total toy chaos and wearing my lipstick.’

Everyone laughed.

‘Hope you got photos for blackmail purposes,’ joked Maddy, stifling a yawn. ‘Right, I’m off. Night-night. Sleep tight. Enjoy your lie-in, Fen.’

I chuckled. ‘Oh, I will. Believe me, I will.’

*****

Exhausted after our long day of travel, I spent as little time in the bathroom as possible before sliding gratefully under the warm duvet and letting out a sigh of relief. I lay on my back for a moment, revelling in the total silence. No little chattering voices, no traffic in the distance, no snuffles from Rob . . . just utter, blissful quiet.

Turning on my side, I snuggled into the pillow. It smelled of freshly-laundered linen and a hint of lavender, and next second, I was drifting off into a dreamland of pine-scented fir trees and powdery snow as far as the eye could see . . .