Christmas Island

by Natalie Normann

  Nice change of topic, he thought and played along. ‘I eat Christmas cookies every day. Sometimes several times a day,’ he said, showing her the macaroon.

  ‘That’s not what I mean and you know it. I hate the thought of you sitting in that old house all alone on Christmas Eve.’

  ‘I’m not alone. Frøy is here.’ Tor scratched the cat under his chin. ‘I’ll even put a festive bow on him in honour of the day. He’ll look very dapper.’

  ‘That’s not what I mean, and you know it.’ She smiled. ‘Can’t you spend Christmas Eve with your new friend?’

  Tor laughed out aloud and Frøy scowled at him.

  ‘Holly’s family is returning before Christmas. That’s why she’s here. I’m not about to crash a family Christmas, you know that. I’ll be fine here.’

  ‘But it’s Christmas Eve!’ Tor could see she was distressed.

  ‘I’m not five years old and I have spent the holidays alone before. Don’t fret about me. I don’t like it.’

  ‘You heard him – he doesn’t like it!’ Henrik sat next to his wife. ‘You’ll be fine, yes?’

  ‘Yes, I will.’

  ‘We’ll hook him up to a monitor and he can sit there, watch us have a lovely Christmas.’ Kari frowned. ‘Or perhaps not.’

  Tor laughed. ‘No, thank you. That would really be depressing.’

  Henrik interrupted again. ‘I’m here to drag her away. The girls are wrapping your present – and Frøy’s, of course – and it’s not going well. I have glue and glitter in my hair.’

  ‘You’re impossible.’ Kari sighed and stood. ‘I’ll talk to you soon, Tor. And get a Christmas tree or some flowers or nisser – something that reminds you of the season.’

  Henrik brushed his hair with his hand and a small shower of gold-coloured glitter fell across the screen.

  ‘Not like that,’ Kari said and pulled him away. ‘We’ll talk to you soon, Tor. Be nice to your neighbour, please. She sounds lovely,’ she said.

  ‘She is, and I won’t.’

  Tor turned off the computer and looked at Frøy.

  ‘What do you think? Should we bother with a tree?’

  Frøy rolled over on his back and offered his belly. Tor gave him a good scratch, feeling ridiculously happy that he was back in the cat’s favour.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Holly pried open one eye when the phone alarm went off. It said seven, and she had to look twice to be sure.

  Why was the alarm on this early? And then she remembered. Oh my god, she thought. It’s the ‘day after tomorrow’, the day Tor was going to take her fishing. This was insane. What person in their right mind would go fishing in the middle of the night?

  Even so, she got out of bed and looked out the window. All dark. Apparently night in Norway lasted half the day.

  ‘Time to get up,’ she said. ‘This is what we do.’

  She swung her feet out onto the floor. Thankfully the heat was on and the room was toasty.

  Tor had said to dress warm. After a shower, she put on jeans and her cashmere sweater, and with Ninni’s coat, she figured she’d be fine.

  Also, she needed tea before she would even contemplate putting her nose outside the door. While the kettle boiled, she looked through the kitchen window. It was pitch dark, not a star or the moon in sight. It made her dizzy looking at it.

  She was sipping the second cup when someone knocked on the door. She had learned from the shock of Tobbens’s materialisation, and made sure to lock the door.

  ‘Who is it?’ Holly had no intention of opening unless she knew who it was. This might not be London, but bad guys lived everywhere. And she knew Scandinavia had dark currents. All the Nordic Noir had taught her that.

  ‘It’s me,’ Tor said.

  Holly opened the door and burst out laughing when she saw him. He had on a bright orange jacket that reached just below his bum, and it was open so she could see he was wearing trousers that went over his stomach – also bright orange, with neon green stripes around the legs and the arms.

  Holly laughed. ‘What are you wearing? You look like a giant lollipop lady.’

  Tor smiled. ‘You can laugh, but it will keep me warm and visible. And you too,’ he said.

  ‘You mean that outfit is big enough for both of us?’

  That would be interesting, Holly thought, blushing at the idea.

  ‘No, I have your gear here. We’re going to be in the boat for a few hours and it gets cold. Your fancy city clothes will give you frostbite. You don’t want that.’

  He handed her a bundle of outerwear like his, which was surprisingly heavy and Holly staggered backwards. ‘I won't be able to move in these.’

  ‘All you have to do is sit in the boat, and trust me, you don’t want to freeze.’ He looked at her. ‘Is that what you’re wearing underneath this?’

  Holly nodded. ‘What’s wrong with it?’

  ‘Norwegians say there’s no bad weather, only bad clothes. It rhymes in Norwegian,’ he said with a lopsided smile. ‘You have to dress in layers, preferably wool on wool. Do you have anything under the jeans?’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Holly dumped the outerwear on the kitchen table. Did he just ask if she had any knickers on?

  ‘You need woollen tights, then jeans, then the overalls. And then a woollen sweater or two. That cashmere thing is nice, but you should also have a thicker sweater over it.’

  Holly frowned. ‘I don’t have anything like that.’

  ‘There were some sweaters in the hallway. Take one of them. Then a woollen hat, scarf, and mittens. And proper boots.’

  ‘Are you sure we’re not going on an expedition to the North Pole?’

  ‘No, then you would have to wear two survival suits, and a polar bear hat,’ he said, smiling now. ‘Why don’t you go and get properly dressed, and I’ll make myself a coffee?’

  ‘Fine,’ Holly said, stomping up to the second floor to dig for woollen tights in Ninni’s closet.

  ‘You need woollen socks too. Bring an extra pair,’ he called after her. ‘And don’t forget to use the bathroom. There’s no bathroom on the boat.’

  That almost made her change her mind, but she was committed now. She couldn’t back out. It took a lot less time than she had anticipated to find what she needed as Ninni had a closet filled with winter clothes. Holly wriggled into a pair of tights, and was pleased to discover she had no problems getting her jeans over them. Perhaps all those sweets hadn’t done too much damage. A quick trip to the bathroom and she was good to go.

  Downstairs again, she found Tor by the table, sipping his coffee. He stood at once when she entered the kitchen, wearing the extra socks and another sweater.

  ‘Much better. Now the overalls and the coat, and we’re good to go.’

  Holly pulled on the overalls and Tor fastened the clasps over her shoulders. It felt oddly intimate, despite all the layers of clothes. She held her breath until he was finished.

  He frowned. ‘Are you okay? Are they too tight?’

  Holly shook her head, not sure if she could speak. What the hell, she thought.

  Tor helped her into the coat. He zipped it up, then gave her a smile that made her wonder what it would be like to kiss him, and she took a step back. Pull yourself together, she thought.

  ‘You look… spooked,’ he said. ‘Is there something wrong?’

  Holly cleared her throat. ‘No, not at all. I’m getting a bit too warm here, though. These clothes are different.’

  Hopefully he believed that. She smiled. ‘Does everyone who fishes out here dress like this? Is it mandatory?’

  ‘No. You can freeze if you want to, but it’s not recommended,’ he said and hesitated. For a nerve-wracking split second Holly thought he would kiss her, and she couldn’t move.

  He took a step back and smiled. ‘You look like a proper fisherman now. Good. Now we can go.’

  Holly was still stunned from the almost kiss. The idea took her by surprise. Or maybe it’s only me, she thought. Maybe it’
s not an almost kiss, but an imaginary almost kiss.

  Her brain scrambled for something to distract her. ‘What about food?’

  ‘You don’t have to worry about that. I have sandwiches and coffee, and a few other things. I’ve even made you a thermos of tea. We’re sorted.’

  Holly followed him out in the hallway. She grabbed her boots and he shook his head. ‘No, they’re useless. Your toes might fall off.’

  ‘Really?’ Holly looked at the boots she had been using because her own had proven so utterly useless. ‘I haven’t been that cold in these. I’ve avoided icy spots, like you said.’

  ‘No, but when you’re out on the water, it’s always best to dress as warm as possible, and cold toes will ruin the trip.’

  He looked around, then handed her a pair of big, furry-looking boots with colourful laces. ‘Try these.’

  Holly took the boots from him and inspected them. ‘You’re joking, right? They’re pointy, like elf shoes.’

  ‘But they’re not made for elves. They are made of seal skin and are lined with proper woollen fleece, and they will keep your feet nice and toasty for hours.’

  Her feet fit the shoes perfectly and she smiled at Tor.

  ‘Maybe you’re Cinderella,’ he said.

  ‘Not sure she’d wear chunky boots, even if they have colourful laces and pointy toes.’ Holly still thought they looked elvish.

  ‘Ready?’ Tor pulled a bobble hat down over his ears and Holly followed him.

  Outside, Tor zipped up his coat and breathed deeply. ‘Best time of the day,’ he said.

  Holly looked at him. ‘You mean, when everyone else is asleep and you don’t have to talk to anyone?’

  ‘Something like that. I like the quiet.’

  ‘Too bad you brought me, then,’ she said, grinning at him.

  ‘Sometimes company is nice,’ he said. ‘It depends on the company though, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Are you in a hurry?’ Holly had trouble keeping up with him.

  Tor stopped and looked back. ‘Oh, sorry.’ He slowed down enough for her to catch up.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Holly asked, when he took the narrow path leading down to the beach.

  ‘My boat is by the pier below my house. This is a shortcut. It’s not a road you should take by yourself in the dark, though,’ he said.

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ It was bloody dark and she could hardly see her feet. Perhaps the elf shoes should have had bells on, she thought.

  The path ended in steep and narrow stone stairs. Tor turned to her and held out his hand. ‘It might be slippery.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, feeling a lot safer with her hand in his.

  She could see his house a bit higher up. The lights were on in the lounge. ‘Do you keep the lights on to find your way home?’

  ‘Not really. By the time we’re back, it will be daylight,’ he said. ‘I like to see the lights when I go out, though.’

  ‘That’s your boat?’ Holly said, when they stepped down on the wooden pier. ‘I thought you meant a row boat or something.’

  Tor smiled. ‘This is a traditional Norwegian boat, mostly used for fishing or leisure. It’s called a snekke. You would call it a double ender, I think. Except mine doesn’t have a sail,’ he said.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, studying the boat. She remembered seeing it when she woke up in his house on her first morning on the island.

  It was certainly bigger than a row boat, which was a relief. It even had a roof, or half of it did, at least. It was made of wood, glossy and polished, with a half-open wheel house. There was a small door leading below deck. Along half the gunwale there was a blue tarp, like a shield. Maybe against the winds, she thought.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, turning towards him.

  Tor looked at the boat with pride and affection. ‘Yes, I think so. My grandfather made it himself in the sixties, and my mum and I have taken care of it since then. As long as I look after it properly, it will last for a long time.’

  Holly frowned. ‘It’s yours? You mean you sailed up from Oslo in this?’

  He nodded. ‘Of course. But not sailed. It doesn’t have a sail, remember? There’s a bunk in the front, and I also have camping gear in there; like a small stove and other useful things. It’s roomier than it looks,’ he said.

  Holly walked closer to the edge of the pier. ‘I’ve never been in a boat like this in my entire life.’

  ‘I know.’ Tor jumped into the boat and rummaged for a life vest. ‘Put this on. Then you can loosen the moorings for me.’

  He put on his own vest, watching her struggle with hers. ‘You okay?’

  She nodded. ‘Peachy,’ she said, feeling a sense of triumph when she managed to zip up the chunky vest.

  Holly looked at the moorings. Basically it was thick rope with a loop at the end, holding the boat to the pier. ‘What do I do?’

  ‘Just pull them up and hand the ends to me,’ Tor said.

  Holly pulled the first and smiled. ‘This is easier than the life vest, you know.’

  ‘Good. Now, get in before the boat floats away,’ he said, holding on to the edge of the pier.

  ‘I can’t jump into the boat like you did, Tor. I’m pretty sure I’ll trip, then tumble overboard on the other side, and then sink like a stone to the bottom with all the clothes I’m wearing.’

  He laughed. ‘I’ll hold the boat steady, and you can climb in. I’ll help you.’

  Tor held out his other hand to Holly. ‘The gunwale works as a step. You’ll be fine. Just be careful, it’s slippery.’

  She hesitated for two seconds, then stepped onto the gunwale and into the boat.

  ‘Good girl,’ he said, to make her smile again.

  She sent him a triumphant look. ‘How would you know?’ she said.

  Tor laughed. ‘If you sit on the bench, I’ll soon have us out.’

  Holly sat on the surprisingly comfortable pillows on the bench and leaned back to watch Tor.

  Tor went over to the steering wheel, pushed a button and the engine sputtered, then the relaxing sound of a well-oiled diesel engine broke the silence.

  ‘Are you comfortable?’ He looked back at her.

  Holly felt a lot safer sitting down. Not that she would admit that to him.

  ‘I’m fine, thank you.’

  Also, sitting behind him like this meant she could admire him. Not his bum or anything like that – he had on far too many clothes for that to work – but even with the chunky clothes and that ridiculous bobble hat, he looked hot.

  She turned around. Tor’s house was already far away.

  ‘So, where are we going?’

  It was bloody dark, and she was surprised he could see anything.

  ‘We are just going around to the next bay to check the crab pots, then we will go to the next bay over to see if there’s anything in my fishing nets,’ he said.

  Holly laughed. ‘You’re like a proper fisherman, aren’t you? What do you do with what you catch?’

  Tor shrugged. ‘I give most of it to Jens, and then he sells it in the shop. Some I use myself, and of course, there’s Frøy. He’s pretty demanding, you know.’

  ‘Right.’ Holly looked around. Apart from a few buckets on the deck, there was no sign of the cat. ‘He’s probably back at the house, snoring in front of the fireplace, isn’t he?’

  ‘Actually no.’ Tor bent down and pushed open the door. ‘He’s snoring in here.’

  Holly stood and went to see. Inside the hull, she spotted the black cat, curled up on a narrow bed, tail covering his face.

  ‘Why does he have a life vest on?’

  ‘Because we’re on a boat, of course. Frøy is really good on board, a proper ship’s cat, but if he falls overboard, the vest will keep him floating and I will be able see him,’ Tor said.

  Holly could see that. A black cat in the dark waters wouldn’t be very visible. ‘And he lets you put it on?’

  ‘He’s a sensible cat,’ Tor said, completely serio
us.

  Holly chuckled. ‘I’ve never heard that said about a cat before.’

  He had one hand on the wheel and half-sat, half-leaned on a high chair. ‘Well, now you can say that you have.’

  Holly didn’t want to disturb the cat and closed the door carefully, leaving a gap for him to slip out if he wanted to.

  ‘If you want tea, there’s a thermos in the bag. The blue one is for you, the red one is coffee,’ he said.

  Holly found the thermoses and handed him the red. There were also foiled-wrapped packages and fruit, and something that looked a lot like a cake.

  ‘Help yourself if you’re hungry,’ he said, opening the thermos and using the cup on the top.

  ‘Not yet. You interrupted my morning tea.’ Holly followed his example and filled up a cup.

  The tea smelled of clover and cardamom, and tasted sweet and strong. ‘What is this?’

  ‘It’s a Christmas blend. At least that’s what the package said. My mum sends me tea. I don’t know why, but I suspect she thinks it’s healthy.’

  ‘Doesn’t taste healthy,’ Holly said, enjoying the flavour.

  ‘Good. We are almost there now,’ he said as the boat glided into a small bay.

  Holly noticed that she could see more than when they set out. Instead of pitch darkness, she could see contours of the landscape. Shadows, sort of. What she couldn’t see was any kind of fishing gear.

  ‘You have crab pots in here? How do you know where they are?’

  ‘I look for the buoys. Mine are bright red. There should be three of them here,’ Tor said, lowering the speed.

  The boat almost stopped, but still glided forward. ‘There’s the first one,’ Tor said, pointing.

  Holly couldn’t see anything and leaned over the gunwale.

  Tor suddenly grabbed her coat by the collar and pulled her in.

  ‘It’s bloody cold water if you fall in,’ he said.

  ‘I wasn’t falling.’ Even so, she sat on the bench, determined to see what he was doing.

  Frøy suddenly decided to join them. He tripped carefully around Tor, and jumped up to sit beside her.

  Tor leaned out and grabbed the buoy. He pulled at it with both hands, dragging a rope out of the water, and after a short while Holly spotted something rising towards the surface.