by Julie Caplin
‘I’d say you have a certain affinity with them,’ said Lucy with a wry grin.
Hekla hooked her arm through Lucy’s and led her down a few streets until they hit a long street, Skólavörðustígur. The street was wide and clean with lots of interesting craft and gift shops and cafés. Lucy insisted that they stop at one called The Puffin, she was so charmed by the iconic looking birds.
‘You know that we eat them,’ said Hekla, her big blue eyes mournful.
‘Noo!’ said Lucy. ‘That’s awful.’
‘Actually, it’s more the tourists than locals.’
‘Well I can tell you now, we are never having puffin on the menu at The Northern Lights Lodge,’ declared Lucy.
Window shopping in Reykjavik was such fun. Of course, in some ways it was very touristy but at the same time, it was clear that people here had a real eye for design and comfort. For someone used to the same endless chain stores, it was a revelation. They stopped outside one particularly striking display in the window of a jewellery designer store, Lucy’s eye caught by a simple gold ring with a large uneven shaped pale blue-green stone.
‘You know how well the pictures have gone down?’ They’d sold three to guests in the last week. ‘What do you think about us showcasing more local art and design at the Lodge?’ she asked Hekla.
‘Ja. That is a good plan. In reception. We could put some shelves in the corner and pictures in the bar.’
‘Exactly my thinking. Come on.’ She nodded her head towards the entrance of the jewellery shop and without waiting, pushed her way inside.
The owner, who was thrilled with the idea of a display at the Lodge, chatted details to Hekla as Lucy prowled around the displays, drawn back several times to the same ring in the window. It was horribly expensive, but then she hadn’t touched her salary since she’d been here. And just six weeks ago she hadn’t even dare buy herself a coffee at Costa. How things had changed? She glanced at Hekla. She’d made new friends, started to fall in love with the landscape and The Northern Lights Lodge was beginning to come into its own. Even the TripAdvisor reviews had improved and, dammit, there was still so much more she could do. She wasn’t ready to leave the Lodge.
‘It’s amazonite,’ said Hekla, coming to stand next to her as she looked once more at the ring. ‘You should buy it. A celebration.’
Lucy caught her eye. ‘That’s exactly what I was thinking.’
As they left the shop, a deal done to set up a display in the next week and a little white box nestled in Lucy’s pocket, she asked, ‘Hekla do you know anything more about the lodge being sold?’
She always seemed to know everything before anyone else. ‘No, it is strange. There’s been no news. Maybe it might not happen now? The reviews are getting so good. Maybe Mr Pedersen will change his mind.’
Lucy crossed her fingers in her pocket. Unfortunately, they might make potential buyers keener still.
Hallgrímskirkja was perhaps the most striking building, Lucy had ever seen, a modern gothic tower made of concrete that put her in mind of the white tower in Lord of the Rings. She couldn’t decide whether she liked it or not. Part of her liked the simplicity and elegance of the lines but then she found it stark and cold.
‘The view from the top is fantastic,’ said Hekla. ‘There’s a lift if you’d like to go up.’
‘Sold.’ Lucy grinned at her. ‘I’d like to see the view and then how about some lunch and then we’d better get to the electrical shop.’
‘Perhaps you could buy another coffee machine for the staff lounge,’ suggested Hekla. ‘Then we might get some work done.’
The office had become a lot more sociable since the arrival of the coffee machine, which reminded Lucy that she needed to stock up on more pods, especially the hot chocolate ones which had proved very popular.
Lucy shook her head. ‘I like everyone coming to the office for their coffee fix, it means we all see each other.’ She shot Hekla a knowing grin. ‘And it gives Kristjan a good excuse to come and see you.’
Hekla’s face glowed with a sheepish smile. ‘He likes coffee.’
‘He likes Hekla.’
She began fiddling with the zip on her thick red, padded coat.
Sparing her blushes, Lucy added, ‘And having it in the office is a good way of knowing what’s going on. For example, Elin moaning that the towel rail had broken again in one of the rooms and that Magnus had fixed it for the third time.’
‘How does that help?’
‘Because I realised that the towel rail isn’t fit for purpose. If Magnus has to keep fixing them, we need to get some different ones.’
‘That is good. I never would have thought of that,’ said Hekla in admiration. ‘I learn so much. You are very good at your job. I think they made a mistake. But,’ her face dimpled and that sunshine smile burst out lighting up her face which immediately made Lucy laugh. ‘It is good for us because you are here making the lodge much better. And why are you laughing?’
‘Because you … you’re smiling now and I can’t believe you were so cross earlier.’
Hekla’s eyes twinkled. ‘I told you, I was named for the volcano.’
The view from the top of the church was stunning and Lucy took lots of photos on her phone, while Hekla humoured her and pointed out the landmarks. Mount Esja, overlooking the city, the harbour and the domed top of Perlan, a shopping and entertainment centre which apparently used to be water towers serving the city. After they left the magnificent church, taking a quick look at the statue of Leif Eriksson, a rather imposing looking Viking, Hekla led the way to Café Loki, her favourite place in the city.
‘They serve traditional Icelandic food and a really cool rye bread ice cream, which is delicious.’
Lucy kept her thoughts to her herself but clearly her face told a different story. Hekla laughed. ‘It is, trust me …’ her voice petered out.
Lucy put a hand on her arm, ‘I trust you.’
‘But someone is not…’ her English deserted her, and worry creased her face. ‘I talked to Alex. He thinks we have a … a bad person. I don’t like to think that someone is doing these things on purpose.’
‘They are. Alex and I found the spare tyres, you know. Someone put them there.’
‘No!’ With her widened eyes Hekla looked like a surprised bush baby.
‘The mice. The slashed tyres. I’m guessing the sheep in the hot tub. The phone call saying I’d changed my plans. The locked hotel door.’ Lucy didn’t want to think it was personal but it was looking that way. ‘Someone doesn’t like me.’
‘No,’ said Hekla urgently, laying a hand on her arm. ‘Before you came there were things happening. Small things. There was a problem with the taxi company taking someone to the airport. They didn’t turn up. Gunnar had to drive the people. The taxi company … they were very upset and said the ride had been cancelled by telephone.’
‘You think that was deliberate.’
‘I know it was,’ said Hekla fiercely, ‘the taxi driver is my brother-in-law. My sister makes all the bookings.’
‘Well, that makes me feel better,’ said Lucy. ‘Marginally.’
It was when they were half way through lunch, Lucy having the Freya Icelandic plate with an amazing trout tarte, salad, and the famous ice cream, when a sudden thought occurred to her.
She waved her fork at Hekla. ‘Can you think of other things that went wrong that might have been deliberate?’
Hekla thought for a minute before finally shaking her head. ‘No, the cancellation of the taxi booking just came to me.’
Chewing slowly, Lucy thought some more, going over it in her head before saying, ‘So that was the first thing. Can you remember when it happened?’
Hekla who was having a hearty-looking meat soup, which smelled rich and smoky, with a side dish of bread and the traditional dried salted fish, which she’d insisted Lucy try. It was not an experience Lucy planned on repeating any time soon.
‘About three weeks before you arrived.’
>
Lucy had been racking her brains to think why someone might want to harm the lodge and she kept circling back to the same thing.
‘Was that before or after Pedersen started talking about selling the lodge.’
‘Just after. Oh!’ Hekla slapped her hand on the table making the cutlery rattle.
‘I’m no detective but I’m guessing someone doesn’t want the lodge sold or not to the person who’s put a bid in.’
‘I think that’s right.’
‘Do you know if anyone else was interested in buying the lodge?’
‘Mr Pedersen never discussed it, so I don’t know.’
Lucy tilted her head, ‘As soon as we get back, I’m going to send him an email.’
‘We might solve the mystery.’ Hekla looked excited. ‘We’re like Miss Marple.’
Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘I’d rather be Charlie’s Angels. Miss Marple was ancient.’ She took a swallow of the lager she’d had ordered.
‘Yes, one of us would have to change our hair, as there’s only one blonde one and Brynja is the other one and Alex is Charlie.’
Lucy almost spat her lager out. ‘I’m sure Alex will love that’ Alex was about as far from a middle-aged, avuncular uncle figure as was possible.
‘He likes you,’ said Hekla, with a mischievous lift of her fair eyebrows.
Lucy tried to shrug but the other girl laughed.
‘He does. Do you like him? He’s fiiiine,’ she said with distinct appreciation.
‘He’s very nice.’ Lucy winced, she sounded like an elderly aunt.
‘I wouldn’t kick him out of bed on a cold night.’ Hekla waggled her eyebrows. ‘He’s a grade A hottie.’
Heat burned in Lucy’s cheeks.
‘I-I hadn’t noticed.’
Hekla hooted with laughter drawing the gaze of other diners.
‘Liar liar pants on fire.’
Lucy narrowed her eyes, unable to stop herself smirking. ‘You know your English is far too good.’
Across from the table, Hekla beamed at her. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘Nothing,’ said Lucy. ‘I’m his boss.’ Under the table she crossed her legs, straightening in her chair, as if that would stop the memory of the deliciously soft kiss on the deck. The tender way he’d swept the hair from her face.
‘So,’ said Hekla.
‘I’m his boss.’
Hekla shrugged. ‘And?’
Lucy thought of all the things that could go wrong.
‘You’re a good person Lucy.’ Hekla’s face creased in sudden amusement. ‘You are worried that you will take advantage of Alex.’
Lucy sniggered and then both burst into laughter at the thought.
‘No. More that other staff might feel uncomfortable.’
‘Brynja is with Gunnar, Freya sleeps with Dagur. We’re miles from anywhere. Who else are you going to sleep with?’
‘Well…’ Lucy was a little taken aback at her blunt approach, ‘I don’t have to sleep with anyone.’
With a wrinkle of her nose, Hekla waved a dismissive hand. ‘That is no fun.’
‘And I’ve got baggage. My last relationship didn’t turn out too well.’
‘Best way to get over someone is to get back on the horse,’ drawled Hekla.
Lucy raised her eyebrows in response to the very good American accent.
‘Lived in Washington DC for a year.’
‘Given the last horse bucked me off good and proper. I’m being more careful.’ She should keep her distance. Alex’s dark eyes saw too much and she liked them too much, especially the way they’d softened before he kissed her. If she avoided him perhaps he’d forget about going to the glacier. She could always tell him she was too busy to go. She was half way through her contract and she really wanted to make a good impression that hopefully the new owners would extend it.
Chapter 20
‘You’ve been avoiding me.’
Bugger, he made her jump. He must have been waiting for her to come out of her weekly meeting with Elin. It had been a week since the episode at the hot tub, which had had to be drained and cleaned.
‘I’ve been busy.’ And avoiding him had taken considerable work, making sure she went back to her staff accommodation before he closed the bar in the evenings, checking which shifts he was doing in the mornings and spending a lot of time closeted in the account’s office rather than in the general office, claiming she needed peace and quiet to go over some figures.
‘And I’m still busy now,’ she added as she walked down towards the glass corridor to inspect the hotel rooms. It was an extra job she had to do each day, but she had no one else to do it. It was important that the rooms were inspected properly but despite pinning the list up for Eyrun, the housekeeper insisted she was too busy in the laundry to do it daily. Lucy foresaw things slipping if she didn’t take charge. Elin was doing a great job, scheduling the other girls as well as cleaning all the communal areas, but she had enough to do.
‘You chickening out of the glacier walk?’ Alex’s question cloaked a double meaning as he fell into step alongside her.
She swallowed, her stomach churning and stopped, turning to face him. No one accused her of being a chicken.
‘When are you thinking about going?’ she tipped her head up in response to the challenge.
His eyes twinkled and she wondered if she’d been had. ‘Tomorrow, or the day after. You haven’t had a day off since you went to Reykjavik.’
‘You’re counting?’ A little hit of warmth coiled in her chest. He didn’t answer. It was a good technique because now she felt duty bound to fill the silence. Nerves prickled her skin.
‘I could go the day after tomorrow,’ she offered, before adding so that they both knew exactly where things stood, ‘I could do with the fresh air and a change of scene.’
If Alex picked up on her pointed words, he gave no sign, instead with a business-like nod, he said, ‘Excellent, I’ll book the tour. I’ll let you know what time.’
He sauntered off and she watched him go. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, Lucy Smart,’ she muttered to herself wishing he wasn’t quite so good looking and that the flipping silly bunny hops in her chest, every time he gave her that warm, intimate smile, would stop.
Clive and the crew were filming an interview with two guests in the glass corridor, as she cut through the hotel to head towards the laundry. Lucy’s heart sank and she prayed they wouldn’t take it upon themselves to decide to shadow her for the morning as they’d been threatening for the last few days. She really didn’t want an audience while she met with Eyrun.
‘Lucy, just the lady,’ trilled Clive as they wrapped up the interview. ‘We’re struggling here to get some decent fly on the wall stuff. No sign of the elusive lights and well to be honest, you guys are all a bit tame. I was expecting a few ructions, rows, you know, new manager throwing her wait around. You gotta give us something.’
She tensed. ‘Well, we’re planning a traditional Icelandic banquet. That might be of interest.’
Clive beamed. ‘Yes! Now you’ve got me thinking. I can see it, Game of Thrones, flaming torches, open fires, fur capes.’ As he turned and began enthusiastically babbling to the crew, Lucy ducked out of sight and scurried away to find Eyrun.
Bearing the clipboard like a shield, Lucy went into the laundry, which as always was like slipping into a warm cocoon. Eyrun who was pulling a pile of fluffy white towels out of the big dryer paused and glared at Lucy as she came in and then carried on, putting them on the side. When she started to fold them, Lucy put her clipboard down.
‘Let me help you with that.’
Eyrun stared but didn’t say anything and carried on. Lucy picked up a warm towel almost tempted to bury her face in it. Instead she watched Eyrun fold the towel in half on the longer length and then fold into equal thirds. Copying her she folded her first towel and then another.
They fell into a smooth rhythm and Eyrun’s face lost some of its taut suspicion.
Eyrun refused to meet her eyes.
Lucy sighed.
‘And you had all the throws and cushions in the cupboard, even though I asked about them.’
‘I was told to put them away until the lodge was sold.’ Eyrun’s jaw was tight with mutiny, her grey hair picked out by the stark overhead light under which she stood.
Despite rehearsing the formal warning speech in her head in readiness for this, the words upped and left her. The delaying tactic of looking around the room didn’t help. Like before, something nudged at her. What wasn’t right in here? The noticeboard was still empty apart from the solitary check list she’d pinned up before. Funny, given Eyrun’s antipathy, she’d expected it to have been torn down. The sight of it, lonely on the board, jarred. In her office she had all sorts of things pinned up, relied on them to remind her of things. Then something clicked. She remembered the first hotel she’d ever worked in and the housekeeper there.
‘You can’t read, can you?’
The other woman’s head shot up, her eyes fearful. Damn, Lucy hadn’t meant to blurt it out but it had popped into her head so suddenly. It all made sense, the lack of any kind of memos or information pinned up and Eyrun not even looking at the paperwork she’d tried to give her.
To Lucy’s horror tears began to well up in Eyrun’s eyes.
‘Is that why you wouldn’t do the inspections? Because you couldn’t read the checklist?’
Eyrun’s jaw tightened and she gave an almost imperceptible nod, as a tear rolled down her cheek.
‘Oh, no,’ said Lucy, feeling the other woman’s distress. ‘I wish you’d said, we could have…’
Eyrun sniffed and blinked. ‘I didn’t go to school much. The letters move. I have dyslexia. I don’t read anything. But I can do my job.’
‘I know you can,’ said Lucy, catching the other woman’s hands as she reached for another towel.