The Icelandic Doc's Baby Surprise

by Louisa Heaton

  Gúdrun raised her eyebrows and smiled a greeting at Merry. ‘Nice to meet you. Are you here to watch the show?’ she asked in English with a thick Icelandic accent.

  ‘Er... I guess I am!’

  ‘Okay! We have saved seats near the front, as always, Kristjan. Give us half an hour and we’ll be ready!’

  Gúdrun was distracted then, by one of the boys who was moving a piece of staging that looked like a mountain.

  ‘No, no, Bjarki! Put that back!’

  Merry gave a short laugh. ‘What is going on? And why did you say I was an elf?’

  Kristjan smiled. ‘All will be revealed!’

  ‘And will you also tell me why your name is on the sign outside?’

  He nodded. ‘Later. After you’ve seen the show. Now, let me get you a drink from the kitchen. Would you like something hot?’

  ‘Chocolate, if they’ve got it.’

  ‘They have. They also do a mean kjötsúpa here. It’s lamb soup.’

  She thought it was probably very nice, but she hadn’t been that keen on the idea of meat in her pregnancy so far. ‘Would you mind if I stuck to the hot chocolate?’

  ‘Not at all. Wait here and I’ll go get some.’

  She tried to stay out of the way as the kids and the staff prepared the set pieces on the stage and arranged and rearranged the seats in front of it. She sat down on one, settling in the cushions.

  Clearly this was their first night presenting this play—whatever it was about—and nerves and excitement were high.

  She watched all the excited kids, wondering if their parents were coming to watch them in the play, and it brought back memories of being at school herself, knowing that whether she was a bit-part player or in the lead role, as she once had been in a school production of Romeo and Juliet, there would never be anyone in the audience cheering her on.

  Her adoptive mother had never wanted to show up at school events, so self-conscious about the disease ravaging her body, and her adoptive father had run out on them years before, when the Motor Neurone Disease had been diagnosed. So Merry had learnt to be independent, and proud of herself, and when the audiences clapped at the end, no matter how small a part she’d played, she’d always believed they were clapping just for her.

  She hoped these kids had people coming in to cheer them on. People to wait for them after the play and give them a big hug, telling them how proud they were and then saying, Let’s go home and sit by a Christmas tree and wonder about the presents underneath.

  The doors opened and adults began to file in, clearly filled with anticipation.

  Kristjan found her and passed her a hot mug. ‘Be careful.’

  ‘What’s under your arm?’

  ‘This?’ He placed his own drink on the floor. ‘A footstool. So you can put your feet up. You’re meant to be resting, remember?’

  ‘I’m fine!’

  ‘And we’re keeping you that way. Allow me to spoil you, Merry. I don’t do this for everyone.’

  She smiled. ‘Really? What about your patients?’

  He thought for a moment. ‘They’re different. Now, come on. Feet up!’

  She rested them on the footstool. ‘You’re very bossy. Is that because your name is on the door?’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘And what play are we about to see?’

  ‘It’s the story of Gryla, Leppaludi and the Yule Lads.’

  She frowned. ‘I’ve never heard of that before. What’s it about?’

  ‘Wait and see.’

  The lights went down and the audience became quiet as music began and the curtains were pulled open to reveal two giant puppets that looked like trolls—one female and hunchbacked and ugly, the other male, taller and equally repulsive.

  The crowd oohed and booed and Merry decided these must be the bad guys.

  ‘Leppaludi! I’m hungry! Bring me some children to eat!’

  Leppaludi sat down on his haunches. ‘I’m tired! Go fetch them yourself!’

  Before she knew it Merry was absorbed in the play about two trolls who ate children, lived in a cave and had thirteen sons called the Yule Lads. Each of these sons was incredibly mischievous, and they stole things and harassed the local villagers close to their cave on the thirteen nights before Christmas. The parents in the village used fear of the Yule Lads to make their children behave. The first, Sheep-Cote Clod, would try to steal milk from the sheep. Stubby would steal food, another would slam doors, and another would spy through windows and steal the children’s toys. Each of them was naughtier, uglier and smellier than the last.

  The play was funny and scary and so much fun!

  Merry was thoroughly enjoying herself, and when the play came to an end the audience got to their feet and gave all the child actors a huge round of applause. Merry didn’t know any of them, but she was proud of them for putting on such a good show, and she was so engrossed in clapping them when they came on stage to take a bow that she was startled to realise that Kristjan was walking up the steps onto the stage, clearly about to make a speech.

  She listened, enraptured.

  ‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to The Elf Foundation. I’m sure we can all agree that the children tonight put on a great play—let’s show them our appreciation one more time.’

  Everybody cheered and clapped.

  ‘The Elf Foundation is a very special place to me. I wanted to create a place where any disadvantaged child, or child with a chronic or terminal illness could come to enjoy Wonderland and Christmas.’

  Merry held her breath.

  ‘I lost my parents at a very young age and I was very lonely. I didn’t want other children to feel isolated the way I had felt. I wanted them to feel part of something. Part of a community. Part of something special. So I built The Elf Foundation. A place for children who felt isolated like I was. A place where they could come and learn through music and movement and then show others that they’re just as important as those with families, or without health problems. Every child who appeared on stage tonight has a difficult story. Some have families but can’t be with them. Some were completely abandoned. Some were chronically ill. But they all have come together to give joy to others at Christmas. Just like Santa’s elves. And now I hope you will join with me in giving back to these children by singing a song to them and making a donation afterwards, if you can, so that we can continue to provide a place for these children here. Thank you very much—and if you look under your chairs you should find the lyrics to the song!’

  Merry could feel her heart melting. That Kristjan should do something like this! Use his pain and his tragic past to create something so worthwhile! What a wonderfully kind and compassionate thing to do!

  She reached under her seat and found the lyric sheet. In the corner, someone began playing a piano, and before she knew it, she was singing ‘Winter Wonderland’.

  It was only when they got to the chorus that Kristjan met her eye and winked at her, and she felt her heart pound, her feelings for him deepening as her understanding of him grew, and then realised with a start that he had won the bet. She was singing a Christmas song before the night was out. He’d done it. He’d managed to make her like Christmas.

  Was it because this was so different from all the Christmases she had experienced as a child? Because here, despite the snow and the cold and the ice, there was real warmth and—dared she say it?—love and affection? Affection between children who didn’t know each other. Who had come to put on this show for other people who had families and love, to make them smile? To make them happy?

  It was such a selfless thing to do, and she knew she wanted to know more about Kristjan’s Elf Foundation. She wanted to be involved—she wanted to be a part of this.

  Could she do that if she lived in England?

  Probably not.

  When the song
was over there were more loud cheers and clapping, and Kristjan stepped back so that the children could take their final bow. Then he was coming back down the stairs towards her, smiling as he stood in front of her.

  ‘Well? What did you think?’

  ‘It was amazing, Kristjan! I loved it. That you’ve done this...’ She became lost for words, felt tears prick her eyes, and she hated it that she was probably going to cry in front of him again. She never cried. She’d always seen crying as a weakness. So she struggled to get control of herself. To take a deep breath. ‘I’m very impressed.’

  He nodded. ‘Good. And you sang!’

  ‘Yes. I did.’

  ‘So you’ll dress as an elf the next time you’re at work?’

  ‘I will.’

  Kristjan grinned. ‘I can’t wait to see it.’

  She laughed, all the tension leaving her body as she saw the delight and mischief in his eyes. ‘No. Neither can I.’

  * * *

  There’d been no more bleeding and the cramping had stopped. Merry had spent her day searching for causes and had discovered there were many benign reasons—a cervical polyp, heavy lifting, excessive exercise. Perhaps the plane trip and dragging her suitcase up the mountain had contributed? Or the dogsled ride? It could have been anything. But she had been reassured by the scan that everything was all right and she felt ready to get back to work.

  The elf costume hung on the back of the staffroom door. Kristjan had found it for her in a cupboard next to a Santa costume—‘For Christmas Day. We hand out gifts to those kids still here.’

  ‘Do you dress up as Santa?’

  ‘I do so proudly.’ Kristjan had passed her the costume. ‘Off you go. I’ll take a picture when you’re done. We wouldn’t want to forget this.’

  ‘Hmm...’

  She took the costume now and went into a changing room. There was a green hat with a white feather that looked more akin to something Robin Hood might have worn, a green velvet tunic with big red buttons, some weird, poufy green breeches, red-and-white-striped tights, like candy canes, and green bootees with bells on.

  Merry looked at her reflection in the mirror and sighed—but she was also smiling. Was this the Christmas thaw? A few days ago she wouldn’t have been caught dead wearing this stuff, but now... She was beginning to realise she didn’t want to be the Grinch. She was beginning to see Christmas as something that could bring a smile to her face, and a part of her wanted that very much!

  It had been exhausting to hate Christmas! And how much of that had been caused by Mark? Selfish, awful Mark.

  But now she was here, in the land of Christmas, and she had Kristjan nearby, and a baby to grow, and everything seemed hopeful right now. It was a time of goodwill.

  Yes, maybe some bad things had happened to her at Christmas, but that wasn’t the season’s fault. That didn’t mean she couldn’t turn it around and refuse to be a slave to her past. It was a time for new beginnings. To let go of the past and begin anew. If Kristjan could take his tragic past and make something positive out of it, like The Elf Foundation, then why couldn’t she?

  She stepped out of the changing room and saw Kristjan had a big grin on his face.

  ‘Smile!’ He lifted his mobile phone to take a picture.

  Merry laughed. ‘These shoes are very apt for a name like Dr Bell. The kids will think I’m making it up.’ She pointed her foot to make the bells jingle.

  ‘I think you look and sound delightful,’ he replied.

  ‘Thank you.’ She walked with him to the lifts and travelled down to their ward, where Agnes, her nurse and translator, was waiting for her.

  ‘You look...very nice.’ Agnes smiled.

  ‘I lost a bet. Now, who’s first on the list today?’

  She went to grab the patient file at the top of the in-tray, but Agnes got there first.

  ‘Dr Gunnarsson said I’m not to let you work too hard today.’

  Oh, did he, now? Merry turned to look at him and he shrugged.

  ‘I’m taking care of both of you. Don’t get angry.’

  ‘I’m a grown woman. I’m quite capable of judging what I can and cannot do.’

  ‘I know. But this isn’t just about you any more, so I’d like to think I have a say.’

  Irritatingly, he smiled at her before walking away.

  Merry shook her head in exasperation, then smiled at Agnes, grabbed the top file from her and gazed at the details.

  Ingestion of a foreign object

  ‘Okay! Let’s go!’ She jingled her way to the waiting room and called out her patient’s name. ‘Darri Edvardsson?’

  A mum, a dad and a little boy aged about five stood up.

  She smiled at them. ‘Hi, I’m Dr Bell. Let’s see if we can sort out your problem.’

  ‘Are you a real elf?’ asked Darri.

  ‘I am.’ She smiled, thinking of the elves last night. She was one of them. One of the abandoned. And she was trying to make other people’s lives better. Yes, she was an elf.

  ‘Okay, then—it says here that you’ve swallowed something you shouldn’t?’ She was getting used to Agnes’s low voice, quickly translating everything at her side, but she was beginning to wish she had the ability to speak the language herself. Maybe she should try to learn it if she stayed?

  Darri’s mother spoke up. ‘He was playing with his toys, trying to build a crane out of those metal bits and pieces. He put a piece in his mouth as he tightened a bolt and somehow he swallowed it. I blame the cat for scaring him.’

  ‘The cat?’ Merry frowned.

  ‘She jumped down from the window and startled him. Will he be okay? Will it pass normally?’

  ‘Well, how big was this piece that you swallowed, Darri?’

  ‘About this big.’

  Darri showed her with his fingers, indicating a piece four, maybe five centimetres long.

  ‘And did it have smooth edges? Was it rounded?’

  ‘I don’t know for sure,’ he said.

  ‘Well, I guess we’d better take an X-ray.’

  ‘You don’t think he’ll need surgery, do you?’ asked the mother.

  ‘I’ll need to see the films before I can answer that, but at the moment he seems fine. He’s not vomiting...he’s not in any pain. It all looks good, so far.’

  ‘All right...’

  ‘I’ll just go and make that referral—I won’t be long.’

  She jingled her way back to the doctors’ desk, rang through to the X-ray department and booked Darri in. There was a wait of about half an hour, but she wasn’t unduly worried. The piece of metal would probably pass straight through.

  She heard Kristjan laugh from another cubicle and it made her smile. Who’d have thought that a man like him would have so much depth to his character? When she’d first met him she’d pegged him as the kind of guy you just had a quick fling with. He was fun, and sexy as hell, and she’d thought she’d never run into him again—which had been good because he hadn’t seemed like the type of guy who did commitment.

  And yet here he was. Opening up his home to her. Accepting her pregnancy and getting teary-eyed at the sight of their baby on the ultrasound screen. He’d opened up a place for orphaned children to go at Christmas. He cared for sick children and made them better. He was funny, kind, charismatic—and he cared.

  I like him. I like him very much.

  Which was disturbing in all manner of ways.

  It wasn’t meant to be happening. Her plan for a quick visit, announcing the news and then returning to England was now all skewed. And she was beginning to like certain things.

  They were friends—and that was good, because they’d need to be if the future became more uncertain. She still wasn’t sure what she was going to do. Stay? Or go back home?

  She was going to be a mother, and her baby would have a ch
ance to know both its parents if she stayed. Shouldn’t she do what was right for her child? Shouldn’t that be her top priority as a parent? You made sacrifices for your children, didn’t you?

  As her mother had done for her, by giving her up in the hope that she would have a better life than the one she could give her. That was what she had to believe had been the motive for her mother leaving her on a vicar’s doorstep.

  And her adoptive mother had done all she could to raise her before she’d got sick, and she had been devastated when Merry had become her carer at such a young age. That was why Merry had chosen to go into medicine. She’d hated feeling she couldn’t do more. Couldn’t understand what was truly going on.

  Merry wanted to give her child what she had never had—a proper family. And by staying here in Iceland she could do that.

  But...

  But she’d never considered giving up her old life. There wasn’t much at home, but it was home. Home.

  Everything was familiar there—her job was there. They’d been good when she’d rung to say she was stuck in Iceland for a few days, and she’d felt terribly guilty about letting them down.

  But which was more important? Her job? Or her child’s future?

  It was a no-brainer when she put it in such stark terms as that, even if in reality it would be hard.

  Although she was beginning to love it here. The place and the people were beginning to make her consider the move as a real possibility.

  And Kristjan...?

  He was at the heart of the matter. He had feelings she had to take into consideration, too. He wanted to be a dad. She could see that, and that was fantastic. She’d not known what to expect from his reaction when she’d first come here.

  Could she imagine walking away?

  Right there and then, she wasn’t sure that she could.

  Her feelings for him were growing. Multiplying. And as they did so her fears grew with them.

  What if this turned out to be a big mistake?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘I THOUGHT YOU might like to go out for a meal tonight.’ Kristjan leaned on the doctors’ desk where Merry was typing some patient notes into the computer system.