‘It is no problem. It is on my way home.’
‘You live in the city?’
‘Just outside. Where there are more ice skating opportunities and less hotels.’
She didn’t know what else to say. Why didn’t she know what else to say? Why was her mouth dry and her stomach rustling like there was a hamster living inside it?
‘So, I do not know if a visit to the south of the island was something you had thought about for your event, but, if you think it would be, you can call me, let me know.’ Gunnar cleared his throat. ‘I drive the coach.’
‘Oh, OK, that sounds interesting.’
‘We go to the black sand beach and the village of Vik and… well, the itinerary is on the website.’
‘OK. Thank you. I will look at that.’
‘OK.’
‘Good.’
And now they were just looking at each other, his clear, blue eyes matching hers and Chloe felt this sensation she couldn’t remember feeling for such a long time. Sexual tension. It was chemistry. The seconds were drawing out, longer and longer until she grabbed at the door handle and propelled herself out of the door.
‘Thanks again! Goodnight!’
She didn’t wait to hear any reply. Instead, she pushed the door closed and headed to the apartment.
15
GUNNAR’S TRUCK, OUTSKIRTS OF REYKJAVIK
‘Do you have your maths homework?’ Gunnar asked the next morning as he drove, rushing like he did every day.
‘Are you talking to me or to Magnús?’ Hildur piped up from the back.
‘Yes, Gunnar,’ Magnús replied, a piece of toast in his mouth.
‘Why are you driving so fast?’ Hildur asked.
‘Because we are late,’ he answered. ‘Or we will be late if I do not drive fast.’
‘Or we will not arrive at all if we skid on the ice and fall into the path of something bigger than us,’ Hildur stated.
‘Your leg is hurting from my driving speed?’ Gunnar asked her, looking at her in the rear-view mirror.
‘My leg is fine. I do not know why I have to go to the community centre today, I would be fine on my own at home.’
‘We discussed this, Hildur,’ he said, sighing. ‘It is only for a few days until you are more used to the boot.’
‘And in that few days my mind will be more damaged than my ankle through boredom of the talk of old people.’
‘I like the people at the community centre,’ Magnús piped up. ‘They give me sweets.’
‘Because the old people cannot eat the sweets, they stick to their fake teeth.’
Gunnar hadn’t slept very well. He didn’t know whether it was the airport runs or the extra work on the Northern Lights trip that night or what had happened with Chloe. He internally shook himself. What was he thinking? Nothing had happened. But, whatever nothing had happened it was weighing on him.
‘Magnús, you have dropped toast!’ Gunnar exclaimed.
Magnús shrugged.
