‘Then it is time to change the topic of conversation,’ Hildur announced, cutting into her chicken. ‘We will now talk about the “except” yes?’
Gunnar should have known Hildur wouldn’t forget their train of talk from that morning and she was a master at manipulating the conversation to go her way. He would tell her something. As little as possible to satisfy her curiosity.
‘There is nothing to tell. A tourist I helped find some accommodation for.’
‘That is not your job.’
‘No,’ Gunnar agreed. ‘But, you know, I made a call and Fridrik knew a place and I helped Chloe out.’
‘Ah! She has a name!’ Hildur exclaimed like having a name was a miracle.
‘And she was on the Northern Lights boat trip last night. That is it. Nothing else to tell.’ He focussed back on his meal.
‘Nothing to tell,’ Hildur repeated. ‘Except your face is now more red than a hat of a Yule Lad.’
‘It is not,’ he said, feeling heat creep into his cheeks.
‘So, when do you see her again? Chloe?’ Hildur asked, her expression nothing short of the kind of gleeful she got when she was winning an argument with one of their neighbours.
‘I do not see her again.’
‘Why not?’
‘Why would I?’ he asked. ‘She is a tourist. She is here to plan an event for her job.’
‘An event here in Iceland?’ Hildur asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Then she is a tourist who is coming back!’
Gunnar shook his head and was glad when his mobile phone rang from its position on the countertop and he could get up from the table.
‘Maybe that is Chloe. Wanting to see you again,’ Hildur said. ‘You need to start using that conditioner on your hair again.’
Gunnar looked at the screen on his phone. It wasn’t Chloe. It was Magnús’s teacher.
‘Hello, Mr Almr.’
‘Good evening, Mr Eriksson. I am sorry to bother you at home so late.’
‘It is OK. There is no problem, is there? With Magnús’s schoolwork?’ He leaned against the counter, almost bracing himself.
‘Not exactly with his work, no,’ came the reply.
What did that mean? There was something else? A social problem? Worse?
‘Please, Mr Almr, tell me,’ Gunnar urged.
‘Mr Eriksson, Magnús has not been in school for the past few days. Is he sick?’
Gunnar’s stomach dropped. ‘What? I… do not understand.’
‘So he is not sick?’
‘No, he is not sick.’ Gunnar put a hand to his head trying to work this out in his mind. How was this possible? ‘We… we have had some things going on here. A trip to the hospital. And I have been busy, but I have dropped him at school every day.’
And only tonight he had arranged for someone else’s family to collect Magnús from school and look after him until Gunnar had finished work. Had Magnús not been at school today? Had he walked to the outside of school from wherever he had been to be there for his lift? Gunnar’s brain was ticking over so many scenarios and none of them were good.
