This was going to happen more and more now that the project was underway. When their father died last year, Mats and his siblings inherited a farm. The main farmhouse was on an island in Radfjorden, and Mats had persuaded them to give him their shares so that he could develop it into a luxury hotel.
‘Why are you buying chandeliers? You don’t have a hallway to put it in yet.’
‘Becca found it and it was a good price.’
Dropping Becca’s name had the desired effect in getting Ida to back off. Becca was the designer on the project, and she and Ida had become good friends. Becca was going out with their friend, Anders, and she had become like part of the family.
‘So what shall I do?’
‘Leave it with me. I’ll call Knut and ask him to help.’
‘Thanks. Love you.’
‘Love you too,’ he smiled. Ida was fierce, but she was usually on his side. That hadn’t been the case in the beginning. She and his brother and younger sisters had been dead against Mats’ hotel idea. They were worried it would bankrupt him, be too much of a challenge for an investment banker, who surely didn’t know what he was getting into. And they’d been right on almost all counts. Since the project had started, Mats had spent a fortune on plans, permissions, lawyers and architects, and nothing had happened on site yet. He had enough money saved up to get things off the ground, but at some point, a day he could hardly wait for, he’d run out of money and then would need to sell his Oslo apartment to fund the rest of the build. And that meant he’d have to leave Oslo and his job because he’d move to Bergen and either live with Ida in the family home, or on the island, depending on the state of things there.
But that day was a long way off. At least six months away by his calculations, and that was if everything happened on schedule. Until then he had to exist as he was, living a life that no longer fulfilled him, while he waited for the right time to embrace his dream.
He needed to get out of the office for some fresh air and some food. Hanne was on her lunch break already, so he grabbed his coat and pulled it on as he made his way to the lifts. Feeling impatient, he decided against waiting and ran down the stairs instead, striding through the foyer and out of the revolving doors onto the busy street.
Oslo was still in the grip of winter, although it was April and spring should be along any day now. In Bergen, there were signs of the season changing. Its milder climate meant that the thaw was well underway. The waterfalls that were frozen a few weeks ago were flowing again, and bright green leaves were beginning to appear on the birch trees.
Mats pulled a hat down over his ears and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his smart woollen coat. He headed to his favourite cafe to buy one of their delicious sandwiches and, finding a table free, stayed rather than take it away to eat at his desk. He needed to call Knut, his project manager, and the table was tucked in the corner where it was easy to have a phone call without interrupting anyone.
‘Hey, Mats. I’ve had your sister on the phone,’ said Knut.
‘I’m so sorry.’ Mats lived in a state of perpetual fear that Ida would annoy everyone he’d recruited for the project and they’d leave.
‘Oh, no problem at all. She had your brother there, so I called round and we moved it between us.’
‘Thanks, Knut, I appreciate that.’ Mats hoped his younger brother Fredrik hadn’t been called to the house specifically to move the chandelier. Hopefully, it was a coincidence that he’dbeen there. Fredrik had enough on his plate juggling his job with being a single father; he certainly didn’t need to worry about moving chandeliers as well.
‘You know you can have anything you like delivered to the unit. We can make sure it’s tucked away safely, even if it’s not ready to go over to the island yet.’
Knut had kindly offered Mats the use of part of his own business premises as temporary storage so that they could have materials delivered there and stored ready to be taken over to the island. Being efficient about how they transported everything would go a long way to keeping the costs down, but it was supposed to be a transitory thing, not for light fittings that wouldn’t be needed for months.
Mats thanked Knut and apologised again for the inconvenience. Then, since they were on the phone, they updated each other on the latest news of the project.
‘We’ve had the report from the quantity surveyor,’ said Mats. ‘I’ve started looking at materials, but I could do with your input on it.’
‘Send it over,’ said Knut. ‘I’ll take a look and then we could get together next time you’re here.’
‘I’m hoping to make it this weekend, but I don’t want to take up your Saturday.’
‘No problem, I’m happy to take a trip out to the island. It might make it easier if we’re there.’
Mats didn’t mind that at all. He always went to the island if he was in Bergen, whether he needed to or not. It helped connect him to the project, to remind himself exactly why he was burning the candle at both ends. He loved the place, and visiting it was the only time he ever felt his shoulders drop and his breathing relax into a steady rhythm. It grounded him, and every time he went there, he felt that.
As soon as he’d read about the island in their father’s will, he’d wanted to visit. He’d known straight away that a distant memory he had of visiting his grandparents when he was small must have been of this place. Having lost both his parents, it was too late now to ask why his father had become estranged from his parents, or why his father had never told any of them he owned the farm and had done for decades. His brother and sisters either hadn’t been born, or were too young to remember the visit as Mats did, and he couldn’t remember enough of the detail to know if they’d been there or not. But he knew — he’d hoped — that the place in the will was the place he had remembered for over thirty years. And it had been.
His first visit since reading about it in the will had been with his siblings. All five of them were keen to see this place that none of them had known about. It was so close to where they lived in Loddefjord, just outside Bergen, that it was strange to think of it having been part of their family for all that time without any of them knowing. When they set foot on the island, it felt to Mats as if it was somewhere he already knew, and he kind of did. None of the others felt the same and saw it as a useless piece of land that might be sold for building holiday cabins, but no-one was going to farm here anymore. It was too difficult these days. Mats had thought asking for their shares would be straightforward since none of them were interested in the place, but he’d been wrong. None of them wanted his money; they were all willing to give their shares, but it had taken him a long time to persuade them that wanting to risk his life savings on a dream that he’d only just told them about was a good idea.
To Mats, it might have been a new idea, but it turned the dream he’d had all along into a possibility. A dream to escape the life he’d built for himself and do something that mattered. Build something himself, something real, instead of numbers on a screen. So when the island presented itself to him, it all fell intoplace. It felt like fate in a way he couldn’t explain. But reconciling that with the fact that his father had distanced himself from it was another thing altogether.
2
Lotta Jansen couldn’t quite believe that she was on her way to a meeting that might change the course of her life. It sounded dramatic, and she tried not to let herself think it was a moment as monumental as that, but it finally felt as if the years of hard work would pay off. All she had to do now was nail it.
She didn’t want to risk being delayed on the train because she didn’t want to lose the upper hand by being late, so she headed into central London ridiculously early. Typically, the trains ran perfectly, so she had some time on her hands. It was a beautiful morning, so she walked from Liverpool Street station to the Snug offices in Shoreditch. She popped into a coffee shop on her way and grabbed an oat milk latte to sip as she strolled. Her nerves abated, and the churning in her stomach settled. Thank goodness she hadn’t been in a rush. At least now she would arrive relatively relaxed and unflustered.
