‘You bake the bread fresh every day?’ I was impressed. ‘Can’t you just bulk-buy it from the Euro Spar and whack it in the freezer? No one would know!’
‘I would know,’ Jonas said.
‘Well, yes, but it’d taste the same and you’d get more sleep.’
Jonas looked at Henrik as if I were mad. ‘It wouldn’t taste the same. My bread has a special ingredient in it.’
‘This is why Jonas and Greta are such a good couple. Magic blankets and magic baguettes,’ Henrik said, with a chuckle. ‘You sprinkle the dough with love, don’t you, Jo-bro?’
‘Among other things,’ Jonas said, tapping his nose. ‘I can’t give away my culinary secrets.’
I had to admit the sourdough was deliciously moreish. I hoped the special ingredient wasn’t cocaine or magic mushrooms. It certainly wasn’t a preservative of any kind as the bread was always rock-hard by bedtime.
‘Is it OK to borrow one of the Firefly dressing gowns, again, for today?’ I asked, realising I once again had nothing but a cabin towel to wrap around my middle. Henrik slipped his robe off and handed it to me. ‘Oh no, sorry, I didn’t mean yours!’
‘We don’t have any spares, I’m afraid – you were in Jonas’s last night. It’s fine, honestly. I’m used to the cold.’
I felt bad, butI wasn’tused to the cold andwasvery worried about getting hypothermia. What kind of retreat didn’t provide dressing gowns? This one. ‘I’m happy to pay you to hire it?’ I said, trying to appease my inner guilt.
Jonas laughed. ‘He can’t charge you for that old thing – it’s never been washed.’
‘Course it has,’ Henrik said, getting him in a noogie. ‘Ignore him – it looks better on you anyway.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, knowing as soon as it went on, he wasn’t getting it back. The woody, musky smell was homely and comforting. If he hadn’t ever washed it, he shouldn’t. It was like Santa, Prince Charming and a handsome woodcutter had all got together and collaborated on a scent.
Jonas wriggled his way out of the headlock and ran into the changing rooms, and Henrik caught the door before it slammed. ‘See you out there,’ he said, his beard and hairy chest connecting to give him a natural fur coat.
I had a shower and made my way out to the thermal pools, which were bubbling away, blowing steam into the air. Each one glowed a different colour. The eggy smell of sulphur was unavoidable as I held my breath and headed for the turquoise pool – it was the furthest away and the only one still empty. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk, and the thought of any leg touching or an accidental toenail scrape gave me the ick.
The water was divine, with pockets of hot and cold swirling around my body, the minerals stinging my skin as they did their thing. I lay back on a ledge in the rock, letting the bubbles come up to my chin, and could feel three other seats covered in natural sponge, oscillating in rhythm with the jets. The snow was still pelting down, and the clouds were so low, I was practically breathing them in. The steam mingled with the mist making it impossible to see, but it was strangely calm and relaxing. Submerged in the heat and thinking about nothing, I floated in a surreal, dreamlike state as I enjoyed my one-woman bath in the sky.
Until someone else showed up.
A red beanie poked through the smoke followed by Henrik’s face. ‘Oh!Hei, Sara. Sorry, I thought this one was free.’ He started to back away.
‘There’s plenty of space! I can’t hog a whole pool to myself.’
‘Of course you can. You’re on holiday. Please. Enjoy.’
‘Honestly, it’s fine. See it as a thank you for giving me your robe.’
I was loving the space and quiet, but why not add a Nordic hunk into the mix? I didn’t want him to disappear back out into the fog.
‘Fine. It’s too cold to argue.’ Henrik dipped a set of neat toes into the water, then jumped in. ‘And to be clear, I’veloanedyou my robe for the day. It’s not a forever thing.’
‘Can I not buy one from somewhere? Or order one in? I thought I was going to an actual spa where there would be thousands of robes; not two between twenty, like some kind of biblical nightmare.’
‘They’re not meant to be shared, the two we have are mine and Jonas’s. Icanorder you one, of course, but it won’t arrive until the snow clears and you’ve already said you’re leaving as soon as it does.’
‘Order me one anyway, in case I decide to stay. Can I borrow Jonas’s in the meantime – when he’s not using it?’ What had I become? A desperate woman, begging for men’s clothes. This place was destroying my street cred.
Henrik bobbed down, leaving just his eyes and nose above the waterline, the pair of us blinking at each other like hippos. Gold flecks swirled around the brown as he looked at me from under his lashes. He had a beautiful face, but there was only so long we could stare into each other’s eyes without speaking, and eventually I had to look away. The intensity was too much, and I could feel something beginning to stir in my stomach. ‘Sure. Jonas won’t mind. Greta goes to the mainland all the time, too. I’m sure she’d bring you back some clothes if you asked.’
‘Amazing! Yes please – whatever she can. Jumpers and jeans would be great. The clothes I’ve got won’t last me a month.’
‘Have you changed your mind about leaving then?’
‘I’d rather be overprepared than eating dinner in my karate outfit.’
