‘What did you say? Because you shouldn’t speak your wish, everyone knows that.’
‘I thought you did not believe in wishes,’ Gunnar answered.
‘Aren’t you meant to be whispering that, so the elves don’t hear?’
He smiled. ‘I was not revealing my wish. I was giving thanks. Keeping the elves happy.’
‘And are they?’
‘Are they what?’
‘Happy.’
‘Did you make your wish?’ he asked her.
‘Yes,’ she answered.
‘Then they are happy.’
‘What about your wish?’ she asked him.
For some reason her sentence seemed to hang in the air between them like it was part of the light show, heavy yet somehow illuminated. Then static noise broke the air, Icelandic coming from Gunnar’s radio, startling them both.
‘I have to go,’ Gunnar said. ‘I am needed.’
‘Yes, OK. Very good.’
Very good? Where had that come from?
‘OK,’ Gunnar said. ‘Enjoy the rest of the lights.’
It was only when he went to walk away that Chloe realised they were still holding hands.
‘Oh, sorry, I don’t know—’ She stopped her awkward sentence as they broke apart and, for some reason, put her gloved hand under her armpit.
‘My fault,’ Gunnar answered. ‘Bye.’
And then he was gone.
14
Everyone came off the boat on such an absolute high from having seen the Northern Lights that they needed to rapidly be reminded that the ramp was slippery, as was the ground. And in the few hours they had been out at sea, Reykjavik had got even colder. Chloe shivered as she left the harbourside behind and began the walk back to her apartment. It had been nice pacing it out down here, looking at the Christmas lights, following the route on Google Maps, but now it was a lot colder she wasn’t relishing the fifteen minutes whatsoever. And it really was slippery, her fake Uggs could confirm.
She took a breath and instantly regretted it as it felt like shards of actual ice were suddenly in her throat. Focus on your footsteps. Avoid parts of the path that look shiny.
A loud car horn almost had her falling from the pavement into the road. She clutched her coat, teeth chattering as the vehicle stopped alongside her and every kidnapping scenario she’d ever read about ran through her mind.
‘Come, get in my car.’
Wow, this one wasn’t messing around with any distraction techniques of sweets or cute puppies.
‘Krúttio mitt!’
At that phrase she realised she also recognised the voice. Gunnar. She turned to look at the vehicle – not a car but some kind of four-by-four – and he had the window down, and was calling to her.
‘You are walking back to the apartment?’ he asked.
‘Y-y-y-es.’ God, she couldn’t even say one word without her teeth chattering.
