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

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

A million stars were twinkling overhead as we made our way around the lakeside a little later, towards the collection of huts where we’d meet the husky dogs and discover what it felt like to go sledging across a frozen lake.

A feeling of excited anticipation filled the air as we were welcomed by Sábin and Viktor, owners of the little family-run business, and offered a cup of warming gl?gi. Two British families were already there and the excitement was ramped up to another level by the excited chatter of the four children in the party, one of whom was clearly desperate to see the husky puppies.

‘He saw them over there as we came in,’ grinned his mum, pointing to the enclosure I’d noticed close by the buildings as we’d walked around the lake. ‘And now he’s keen to meet them.’

‘Might not be possible, son,’ said his dad apologetically. ‘Health and safety and all that.’

‘You would like to stroke puppies?’ said Sábin, coming over with more gl?gi and smiling down at the little boy.

His mum clasped her hands over her heart. ‘Oh, he’d love to! Can we?’

‘Of course.’ She smiled around. ‘Everybody?’

‘Ooh, yes, please,’ said Jaz and we all nodded. Taking our gl?gi we all trooped out after Sábin and trudged through the snow to the enclosure and the long row of kennels, where about a dozen beautiful husky dogs were either sniffing in the snow or standing there, ears pricked and panting, clearly sensing that they were about to be called upon to do the thing they loved best – racing across the ice.

‘Do you think the dogs stay out here all night?’ I whispered to Katja. ‘It must be freezing for them.’

‘I guess they’re bred for that, though,’ she replied. ‘It’ll be what they’re used to, even the puppies I expect.’

As if she’d heard our whispers, Sábin turned as she got to a particular kennel and said, ‘Huskies perform best in cold temperatures. When the tourist season ends, we train them from April to November and they run every day. When they are racing, they prefer temperatures of minus twenty-five degrees centigrade to “warmer”

temperatures like we have tonight.’

‘Warmer temperatures?’ laughed Maddy, covering her frozen nose with her hands. ‘Damn, I knew I should have brought my swimwear!’

Sábin laughed. ‘Compared to some nights here, it is – what do you say? – balmy? Yes, it is only minus ten degrees now,’ she explained, and a ripple of laughter went round the group at the idea of ten below zero being thought of as balmy.

Two adorable looking husky puppies were peering out of the kennel. Picking them up, one in each hand, Sábin nestled them close to her then bent down to show them to the children, who were clustering around excitedly, desperate to pat them. She placed the little wriggling bundles in two pairs of very willing hands and the parents looked on, smiling proudly and taking photos, storing up yet another magical moment from their trip to Lapland.

As we took turns fussing over the puppies, cuddling them and feeling their soft warm fur tickling our noses, the adult huskies were being harnessed, ready to start work. You could tell from their excited yelps and barks that they were very eager to get going.

And at last, it was time for the action.

I was feeling quite nervous as we gathered to hear a description by Viktor of what would happen. But he was so warm and cheery, I soon felt I could trust him completely to make sure I didn’t actually fall off the sledge halfway across the lake!

After that, I found myself relaxing into the whole experience, climbing onto the sledge and settling myself in as the four huskies harnessed in front of me yelped and barked and jostled a little in anticipation of their run.

And then – with a quick intake of breath on my part – we were off, gliding over the snow that had settled on the lake. I was vaguely aware of the biting air freezing my face as we bumped along and I concentrated hard on staying upright. But mostly, I was feeling far too exhilarated by the whole experience to even think about the cold.

Afterwards, we all gathered around a blazing bonfire, our cheeks thawing nicely as we ate a soft flatbread called gáhkku, which was traditionally baked over an open fire, served with cloudberry jam and leip?juusto (or ‘squeaky cheese’ because it squeaked on your teeth!) The combination of flavours was delicious and I knew I’d remember forever the sheer magic of eating outdoors around a campfire in the frozen Arctic air, under a Lapland moon . . .

At last, happy and relaxed, we made the short journey back to our glass igloos, peering at the sky all the time in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the Northern Lights.

‘It’s so frustrating,’ groaned Jaz. ‘Are they in hiding just because we’re here?’

‘Sod’s Law they’ll be out in force tomorrow after we’ve gone,’ chuckled Katja.

‘Even one would be fine,’ joked Laurel. ‘I’m not greedy.’

I laughed. ‘Can you have just one Northern Light?’

I glanced across at Maddy but she was staring at her phone. She looked up. ‘What?’

I shrugged. ‘Nothing. We were just wishing we could see the Northern Lights.’

‘Oh, right.’ She held up her phone. ‘I need to FaceTime Jack but I’d rather wait until I’m back in the warm to get my bare fingers out.’

We chuckled. It was a common problem here. You couldn’t just take your gloves off outside to make a phone call. Your fingers would be frozen numb before you could say ice-pops.

‘Laurel, have you got our key?’

Laurel dug it out of her pocket and handed it to Maddy. ‘Don’t drop it in the snow or we’ll never find it.’

‘Thanks. See you back there.’

We watched her hurrying through the snow.

‘Is she just a typically stressed bride-to-be or is there something seriously wrong?’ I murmured.

Laurel sighed. ‘There’s something up. I’m sure of it.’

‘There definitely is,’ agreed Jaz. ‘Even allowing for a few bridezilla moments, it’s not exactly normal behaviour for a bride-to-be, is it? She looks positively depressed these days.’

‘I just wish she’d confide in us . . . tell us what’s going on,’ said Katja sadly.

*****

Back at the igloos, Laurel came back to ours to give Maddy some privacy with Jack and we opened a bottle of wine.

‘Oh, my God, look!’ gasped Katja suddenly, almost spilling wine from her glass.

We looked to where she was pointing at the glass roof overhead – and then Katja wasn’t the only one who was gasping.

‘It’s happening,’ breathed Jaz. ‘The Aurora Borealis. The Northern Lights!’

‘But is that really them?’ Laurel was peering upwards, looking a little sceptical. ‘It’s not a weird reflection of somebody’s sparkly jewellery, is it?’ She glanced around. ‘Or an oil slick.’

I chuckled. ‘No, it’s definitely them.’ I beamed up at the amazing spectacle for a moment. Then I grabbed my phone. ‘Quick! We’d better get outside to take some photos.’

‘Yes. Before they vanish as fast as they materialised,’ laughed Katja. ‘And people think we’re lying because we’ve got no evidence.’

‘We need to let Maddy know,’ I pointed out, reaching for my hat and pulling it on. ‘If she’s talking to Jack, she might not even have noticed them.’

‘She’ll be raging if she misses them,’ agreed Jaz.

‘Let’s go and interrupt her love chat, then,’ called Katja, who was already bundled in her coat and woolly hat and rushing out into the snow.

Standing outside in a line, we turned our faces upwards and gazed in awe . . . at the giant streaks of deep pink and iridescent green that were swirling across the night sky like a luminous work of art. As one, we lifted our phones and started snapping away.

Trying to take a photo that did the scene justice was tricky, but Katja said that she’d mastered how to take a series of landscape shots and fit them together, so she could hopefully get the whole of the vista in one picture. I relaxed a little, hearing that. It meant that instead of fiddling around trying to get a better photo than the few I’d already snapped, I could forget about my phone altogether and simply gaze up at the sky . . . at the utterly magical phenomenon that was the Northern Lights.

‘Maddy!’ shouted Katja, suddenly remembering and rushing for her igloo, with the rest of us following behind her.

Maddy was on the bed, lying on her side talking to Jack, and sure enough, she didn’t seem to have noticed the sky at all.

‘The Northern Lights, Maddy. Look up, for heaven’s sake or you’ll miss them,’ urged Katja, her gaze raised to the glass roof.

Maddy looked non-plussed for a second. Then her eyes widened and she scrambled off the bed and followed our eyeline. ‘Oh. Oh, Jack! They’re so amazing.’

‘Are you talking about the Northern Lights?’ asked Jack. ‘I can’t see them. I can just see your left thigh.’

‘Sorry.’ Maddy angled the phone. ‘Can you see them now?’

‘Um, sort of. Look, just take lots of photos, okay?’

‘Okay. I’d better go.’

‘All right. Enjoy! Can’t wait to see the Northern Lights with you one day.’

‘Yes. One day.’

‘One day very soon,’ Jack said with feeling. ‘Not to sound soppy but in a few years’ time we’ll be taking our kids to Lapland together to meet Santa. I suppose if I was a “real bloke”, I probably wouldn’t be saying this – but I actually can’t wait. Can you?’

Maddy swallowed. ‘I . . . no. Absolutely. Can’t wait.’ She sounded as if she was having trouble breathing.

‘’Bye everybody!’ shouted Jack. ‘Safe journey home tomorrow.’

We all called goodbye and Maddy said abruptly, ‘Need to go, Jack. I want to look at the lights in the sky while I can.’ She turned away, but not before I saw the tear that escaped and ran down her cheek.

Jaz, oblivious to this, called, ‘Come on. Let’s leave the lovers to say their romantic goodbyes in private,’ and she, Katja and Laurel swept out, laughing.

‘Love you,’ Jack said. ‘Can’t wait to have you back.’

But that only seemed to make Maddy more upset, although she did a good job of hiding her face from her fiancé.

‘Love you, too,’ she whispered, although Jack had gone by then.

‘What’s going on, Maddy?’ I asked softly. ‘You couldn’t wait to get Jack off the phone just then. Is it the wedding plans that are the problem?’ I was recalling her conversation with Marcus earlier . . . how I’d got the feeling they were talking about an issue with the wedding.

‘The wedding plans?’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘Yes, you could say that.’

‘Because if there’s a problem with the cost, I’m sure it can be sorted.’

‘It’s not the cost that’s the problem, Fen.’

‘What is it, then?’

‘It’s the fact that –’ She broke off, staring at me with such a bleak expression, it snagged at my heart.

‘What is it, Maddy? Tell me.’

Her sigh was shaky with emotion. ‘I’ve been thinking about it constantly since we arrived here. But it’s no use, Fen. I can’t marry Jack.

‘I’m calling the wedding off.’