‘Get in the car. I will take you.’
‘I’m f-f-fine, honestly. It’s not that far.’
‘I know exactly how far it is. Get in.’
At that second a biting wind that seemed to swirl around and up got right under Chloe’s padded coat. It made the decision for her. She pulled the door handle and clambered up into the truck.
‘I am sorry for the mess,’ Gunnar said, putting the window up.
Chloe looked to the floor of where she had put her feet. Were those ice skates? Her teeth were juddering so much now she couldn’t form words. As if sensing her cold, the blowers inside the car were raised in speed, and hot air soon began to filter into the space as Gunnar pulled the truck away.
‘You… do… ice skating?’ she said, feeling coming back in her lips a bit.
‘A little,’ he said. ‘Sometimes. But, I am not training for the Olympics.’
She smiled. ‘OK. The last time I did ice skating I pretended I hurt my foot so I could leave the rink and go and eat bratwurst.’
He frowned. ‘Why pretend? Why did you not just leave the rink and get the sausages?’
That was a very good question. The answer was because Michael had bought the apparently ‘very expensive’ tickets and created this ‘double-date’ scenario with his boss and his wife even though Chloe could barely stand up in the boots let alone waltz around the rink like Jayne Torvill. Saying no hadn’t been an option she thought she was allowed to consider. And that felt pathetic. And she was going to share none of those memories with Gunnar.
‘I definitely should have done that,’ she answered. ‘I had to carry on the pretence for a week, limping and taking twice as long over the stairs.’
‘You did not like it that much? To skate?’
‘It wasn’t that I didn’t like it,’ she said. ‘Just that I wasn’t very good at it. I expect, living here, you are very good at it.’
‘In Iceland a pair of ice skates is made for every baby that is born, their name imprinted on the leather.’
‘Really?’ she asked, looking at him.
He laughed then, loud and hard. Sexy.
‘No, I joke with you. But there are plenty of lakes to skate on and a stadium, and ice hockey is very popular now.’
‘Popular enough that you have skates ready to go in your car.’
‘Well, they are not mine.’ He paused. ‘They… belong to someone else. I am… looking after them.’
He sounded awkward. Almost like he was keeping some kind of secret. Without realising it, her eyes began a reconnaissance of the rest of the cab of the truck. A half-empty bag of sweets. A travel mug. Some kind of design in metalwork hanging from the rear-view mirror…
‘Did you enjoy the boat trip?’ he asked.
‘Yes. It was very good. But the Northern Lights stole the show.’
He nodded as he drove. ‘It was a great display tonight.’
‘Lots of five-star reviews for you.’
‘I can only hope.’
‘Well, I think the stain on my coat is gone so no loss of rating from me.’
‘Thank you.’
He pulled the vehicle to a stop and Chloe saw they were outside the door to her apartment already. She had left a lamp on and it was glowing through the window reminding her that warm and cosy was only a few steps away.
‘Thank you, Gunnar. For the ride back.’
