June
In the kitchen there were bluebells in a vase and on the table a welcome gift for the new tenant, duvet covers in bright, lively colours. The place was sparkling clean, but he still glanced around before he snapped shut his suitcase, hung his jacket over his arm and stepped out into the sunshine. He stood still and felt a wave of satisfaction pass through him. He locked the door for the last time and dropped the key in his trouser pocket. Matthildur was relaxing in the sunshine and she waved.
‘Have a good trip,’ she called out to him.
The plane was on the ground when he got to the airport and the car park was packed. On the way, he patted his pocket to make sure the key was in its place. At the check-in desk, he and Sveinn nodded to each other. The first passengers were making their way in and they watched in anticipation as each passenger passed by.
Sajee was the last to disembark, taking careful steps. She was cautious, as might be expected after her long stay in hospital followed by recuperation. The warm wind flicked her hair over her face and she deliberately pushed it back behind her ears before continuing.
Guðgeir’s thoughts filled with a range of memories, some crystal-clear, some vague. He recalled his own howl of horror as he dug with his bare hands. She lay in a shallow grave, her face covered with earth. In desperation, he had cleared her airway, forced air into her and pumped her chest until he could detect a pulse. He remembered flashing lights, loud, urgent voices and the clatter of a helicopter.
Over the next few days, dreadfully undernourished and maltreated, Sajee had fought for her life.
‘She’s as tough as hell,’ Sveinn said with the usual short bark of laughter.
Guðgeir smiled. Yes, she was certainly tough. He went over to her and folded his arms about her, then he took her hands in his.
‘You’ll have to promise me you’ll look after these,’ he said, looking down at them, and felt her tremble.
She looked into his eyes, took a deep breath and nodded.
‘You know I have a job here, starting in the autumn.’
‘Yes. At the old people’s home. Congratulations.’
A broad smile spread across her face.
‘And one day I’ll open my own salon.’
‘I don’t doubt it. Not for a moment,’ he said, taking the key from his pocket and pressing it into her hands. ‘The flat is all yours.’
‘I’m so lucky,’ she said and gazed into his eyes. ‘Hirumi is coming to see me next week.’
Guðgeir swallowed and looked away, overcome with relief at seeing how Sajee had recovered.
‘Won’t you sit down while Sveinn finishes up? You’ll have to wait for him for a little while,’ he said.
‘Yes, that’s best,’ she answered and dragged her suitcase over to the imitation leather sofa.
‘Good luck, Sajee,’ he said as he left her.
‘Thank you, and have a safe trip.’
He hummed a tune as he drove over the long bridge spanning the Hornafjörður estuary. The blue-grey mountains were at their most magnificent in the summer sunshine, and he was heading home.
The Fox is first published in English the United Kingdom in 2020 by Corylus Books Ltd, and was originally published in Icelandic as Refurinn in 2017 by Salka.
Copyright © Sólveig Pálsdóttir, 2017
Translation copyright © Quentin Bates, 2020
Sólveig Pálsdóttir has asserted her moral right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the written permission of the publisher.
All characters and events portrayed in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or not, is purely coincidental.
Published by arrangement with Salka, Iceland.
www.salka.is
Cover art courtesy of Aðalsteinn Svanur Sigfússon
Corylus Books Ltd
corylusbooks.com
Table of Contents
February 1
2
3
4
5
6
7
April 8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
June
The Fox Page 22