Gunnar pulled the car away from the kerb, refocussing on dropping off his next passenger.
‘So,’ Hildur began. ‘If it is not Santa Claus and the reindeer you are scared of, and you say it is not the Christmas show, then there is only one reason for your mood this morning.’
‘Only having time for one coffee?’ he asked.
‘This is how you were when you first met Kirstin.’
As if the universe was reacting to what Hildur had said, the car in front of them braked suddenly and Gunnar was left having to do exactly the same to avoid a collision.
Hildur gave a moan from the back seat.
‘Hildur, you are OK?’ he asked.
‘Yes, but I am not so certain about the tomatoes.’
‘I do not care about the tomatoes. I care that you have not injured your leg any more.’
‘And you are now using concern for me to brush away what I said about Kirstin.’
He put the truck into first gear and pulled away again. Kirstin. The last woman he had dropped his guard for. The woman who left the moment he told her he was a guardian to a small boy and lived with an octogenarian. He didn’t know why he had foolishly thought Kirstin was different, would understand and accept. Maybe because he thought she had genuinely cared for him like he had started to care for her. In the end she had taken a different job, one that took her away from Iceland and quickly out of his life.
‘There is nothing to brush away,’ Gunnar said. ‘Kirstin lives in Denmark now.’ He could say her name. He could deal with reality and facts. No emotion necessary.
‘I know. I have Facebook.’
Gunnar knew Hildur had Facebook, as did he, but he didn’t know that she had kept in touch with what Kirstin was doing. He didn’t. They were no longer online friends either. What was the point of keeping any kind of connection? It had been over a year now.
‘So, there is no new Kirstin?’ Hildur asked like ‘Kirstin’ was an iPhone model.
‘No.’
‘No one?’
‘No,’ he repeated. ‘Except…’
‘Except?’
Why had he said ‘except’? There was nothing. Chloe was someone he had bumped into a few times, a customer he had helped, a tourist he had given information to, except… argh, damn that word!
‘It is none of my business, of course,’ Hildur said when he made no response. ‘But, as much as you do for that boy and for me, you have to make time for more than work for yourself, Gunnar.’
‘I think we have had this conversation before,’ Gunnar answered.
‘And we will continue to have this conversation until you believe,’ Hildur said.
‘Like with thehuldufólk?’
‘Ah! At last! You bring them up yourself so they are real to you now!’
Gunnar shook his head, taking a left turn towards the community centre. ‘Now, the minibus will pick you up at six and Magnús is going to his friend’s for dinner and I will pick him up when I have finished with the tour.’
‘Do you want me to make you something to eat?’ Hildur asked as he pulled to a stop.
‘No!’ Gunnar said immediately. ‘No, Hildur, you do nothing but rest your foot. I will take care of the food. OK?’
There was no response and he turned his head to look into the back seat of the car.
‘We have some tomatoes that are not squashed,’ Hildur announced, two large fruits in her hands.
