9
IRIS HAD ORGANISED the trip to Hraunvik with Bjarkey. It was Tuesday morning, and she’d not heard from Siggi since their volcano trip on Saturday. And she missed him.
When he said he thought there had been something between them, she couldn’t bring herself to open up and say that yes, she felt something too. It felt too dangerous. What if he’d gone on to say,I thought there was something between us, but I think you have the wrong idea?That would have been terrible. The safest thing was to deny it until she made sense of the feelings she had for him. She had long ago resigned herself to being single. Flings didn’t interest her because she knew from bitter experience that when she liked someone, she fell hard. So it was easier to glide above any emotions like that until she felt ready, one day, to let her career take a back seat. That time wasn’t now.
The problem — and it was a nice one to have — was that Siggi had forced her to dip into her emotions, and that hadn’t happened for a long time. He was so kind and thoughtful, and that wasn’t something she came across very often. She led a very independent, sometimes lonely life and wasn’t used to anyone going out of their way for her. She didn’t know Siggi well enough to know whether this was usual behaviour, in which case she’d be an idiot to think he was treating her any differently to anyone else. But the alternative, that maybe she was special to him, and that was why he took her to see one of the most amazing volcanoes she was ever likely to see, was just as hard to accept.
Bjarkey picked Iris up, and they travelled to Hraunvik on the same route as she’d taken with Siggi the week before. It was a grey, overcast day and it felt as if the sun hadn’t quite risen. It made the landscape look more desolate and imposing, without the sun to glint off the lying snow or to illuminate the drifts that were swept in clouds from the sides of the mountains in the wind.
Since it had looked so cold, Iris had put an extra layer on just to be sure, and packed a spare set of clothes in her backpack in case they got drenched either by snow or rain. She’d also been to the closest bakery and bought two cinnamon buns. She hoped Bjarkey would think about bringing a hot drink for them both since Iris had no means to do that herself, but she packed some water as a backup.
They chatted easily about their work. Bjarkey periodically pointed things out as they crossed the Reykjanes peninsula, showing Iris areas where there had been activity before and a couple of places where their own seismometers were located.
When they arrived in Hraunvik, Iris directed Bjarkey to the street where her seismometer was located. There was nothing to see, but Iris wanted to check in with the homeowner to make sure they were still happy to have it in their garden, and to check that it hadn’t been disturbed at all. The data she was getting looked good, so she didn’t expect anything to be wrong.
‘Do you mind coming with me?’ she asked Bjarkey when they pulled up outside.
‘Sure! We may as well leave the car here while we survey.’
They got their things together, then Iris went up to the door of the house she’d been to with Siggi and knocked. The same man answered.
‘Hello. I just wanted to check that it’s still okay to leave my equipment here?’
He nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘Thank you. I’ll just check on it and then we’ll be off.’
He frowned, and Bjarkey took over in Icelandic. The conversation extended beyond a quick translation of the last sentence, so Iris smiled politely and went back down the steps over to her seismometer, which was exactly as she’d left it.
‘Everything all right?’ She asked Bjarkey when she’d finished talking and come over to see the equipment.
‘He was asking where your friend was. Siggi is it?’
Iris blushed. ‘Oh yes. He works for a tour company and he agreed to come out here with me when I set this up.’
‘Apparently, he knows the family in the house next door. That’s how the guy knows him.’
‘Oh, he didn’t say.’ Well, that was confusing. If Siggi knew who lived in that house, why had he been so reluctant to knock on the door?
‘I wonder why he did not suggest putting it in their garden?’ Bjarkey said with a frown.
‘We did try their door, but there was no one in. Here is as good as there.’ Why she felt the need to defend Siggi, she had no idea.
‘Of course,’ Bjarkey said with a smile. ‘So this is your special seismometer. What made you decide to site it here?’
‘Based on your data, I tried to triangulate a location where we might expect to see the most activity and this was the ideal place.’
‘Ah. And has this picked up anything more than we have seen from our own monitoring?’
‘Yes. What you saw the other day, that trend is increasing, and the activity is becoming more regular. There is a seismic event every few hours, according to the data.’
‘That is what we were predicting would happen, so it is exciting that you have data that supports it. Maybe tomorrowyou could come into the office again and we can have a proper look?’
‘Of course, I’d be happy to.’ Iris knew this was her big chance to prove that her method worked. To be here, in such close proximity to where something big was going to happen, knowing it was only a matter of time before her predictions would become reality, was exhilarating. If she pinpointed the event accurately enough, gave people time to evacuate, it could make all the difference to the town, and would give her the data she needed to support her research paper.
‘We will walk around the town to see if there are any physical signs yet that support what we have seen so far in the monitoring. And perhaps stop somewhere for a coffee?’
‘Lovely!’ said Iris. She hadn’t imagined that this remote little town would have much to offer, but Bjarkey took her to a cafe calledHjá Höllu.It was located back on the main road they’d come in on, near the only roundabout in town, and offered everything from pastries to lunches. The wonderful scent of homemade bread hit them as they went in, making Iris feel hungry. She and Bjarkey both ordered coffee and a pastry each. Iris chose something that looked like a figure-of-eight of light flaky pastry with what she hoped was custard, filling the holes. Bjarkey was far more restrained and opted for something that looked like a tiny pain au chocolat.
