Summer Island Read online

  Ninni went quiet when she sat down. Somewhere he had found plates and cutlery, even paper napkins and a candle. It was bright red, so probably a leftover from Christmas, but even so. The effort was impressive and that was even before she had tasted the food. He had bought fizzy drinks to go with the food and she smiled at the sight of the bright yellow bottles.

  ‘It smells wonderful,’ she said.

  Jack put the pot on the table. ‘I hope you like Italian food.’

  The pot was steaming and promising all sorts of deliciousness. ‘I love Italian food.’

  Jack filled her plate with a generous portion, then grabbed a grater and a piece of hard cheese. ‘Parmesan.’

  Ninni looked at him. ‘This is proper Parmesan? Are you serious?’

  ‘I’m always serious about food.’ Jack sat down opposite her.

  The food looked too good to eat. ‘Do you cook like this every day?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t have time to cook for myself. I usually eat at the restaurant.’ Jack filled his own bowl.

  ‘So, you eat the food that you make at the restaurant. Isn’t that cooking for yourself?’

  ‘Not really, no. I would be happy with a cheese sandwich if I only cooked for myself.’ Jack lit the candle with a lighter he told her he’d found in the same drawer as the Scotch the vet had mentioned.

  Ninni chewed the pasta and swallowed. ‘Did you make this pasta?’

  ‘Of course I did.’ He frowned. ‘Why? Don’t you like it?’

  ‘I can honestly say this is the best pasta I have ever tasted. I can’t believe you made this here. Why didn’t you just get us a pizza?’

  Jack looked as if he was considering it, then shook his head. ‘They don’t have an oven here.’

  ‘Otherwise you would have made a pizza from scratch, right?’ Ninni took another bite. There were hints of onion, pepper, mushroom and those little green peas, and a lot of bacon, in a rich creamy sauce. It was to die for.

  ‘Yes, I would.’ He finished his food. ‘Do you know they don’t sell any wine or booze in the shops here? Like, not at all?’

  ‘I have noticed, yes. You can buy beer and cider in the shop, though,’ Ninni said, shaking with laughter now.

  ‘No, you can’t. Not after eight o’clock. That’s not normal.’

  Ninni laughed out loud. ‘I guess that depends on your point of view. Buying whisky or a bottle of red wine in Waitrose or Sainsbury’s on a Sunday morning isn’t normal.’

  ‘It ruins the possibilities for a proper red wine sauce,’ Jack said. ‘Otherwise we would have been eating a nice tomato sauce right now.’

  ‘Most of us adapt to the opening hours of Vinmonopolet and we prefer it like that,’ Ninni said, a bit defensive.

  Jack frowned. ‘I guess it means I have to plan my sauces a day in advance then.’

  ‘Or always keep a couple of bottles in your cupboard,’ Ninni said, grinning at him.

  ‘Which a good chef does, anyway. But on an island, that has to be a problem.’

  ‘No, not really, we shop what we need when Vinmonopolet is open. Agnar used to make his own brew, like Tobben does now,’ Ninni said.

  ‘Alma said he drank too much at times.’ Jack smiled. ‘I learn all these bits and pieces about him, but I can’t get a whole picture, you know?’

  Ninni took a sip from the bottle of fizzy drink. ‘It must be difficult for you. I can’t even imagine.’

  Jack put the plate aside. ‘It’s not difficult in a sense; it’s more … surprising. I never expected this connection.’

  Ninni smiled. ‘You’re obviously discovering your roots. I can’t imagine what that feels like.’

  ‘A bit overwhelming, but not bad,’ Jack said.

  ‘How did you get into your type of cooking? I mean, it’s one thing to cook at home, but this food is far beyond anything anyone could throw together.’

  ‘I was lucky. I studied cooking in college and then had some work training in a really good restaurant. Roland took a liking to me and asked if I wanted a job at the weekends. He encouraged me to experiment, gave me all the training I could dream of, even sent me to Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, and he promised me the management of the restaurant if I got him a Michelin star.’

  There was a hint of bitterness in his voice. Ninni took a sip of her soda. ‘You were about to get a Michelin star; I read that online. He didn’t follow up on his promise, did he?’

  Jack shook his head. ‘No, of course he didn’t. I should have known better, of course. But I trusted him.’

  ‘What did you do?’ Ninni watched him.

  Jack waved his hand. ‘I told him to go to hell, then I came here.’

  ‘Oh, I see. That must have been quite an upheaval. You seem to be handling it all very well.’ Ninni smiled at him.

  ‘Not really. I’m a bit of a mess, but I’m getting there,’ Jack said.

  She finished off the rest of her food and leaned back. ‘I’m so full.’

  ‘I don’t have any dessert, I’m afraid. Unless you have more of that chocolate left.’

  ‘There’s half a bar in the reception, if you want it.’ Ninni stood up and started to clear the table.

  Jack moved the pot to the oven. ‘Breakfast,’ he said.

  ‘Britt told me that the restaurant, your restaurant, could lose the opportunity to get that Michelin star. Is that because you’re here?’

  Jack nodded. ‘That, and the fact that I took the book with me when I left.’

  ‘The book? What book?’ Ninni turned towards him.

  ‘Every chef has one. It contains all the recipes I have developed and used in the restaurant,’ Jack said.

  Ninni lifted her hand. ‘I bet they didn’t like you taking it, did they? There was a woman in the article online – I can’t remember her name – she’s the new owner, isn’t she?’

  ‘Fedra. She’s his daughter, and she’s furious that I took the book with me.’

  ‘And you like that, don’t you?’

  Jack looked slightly embarrassed. ‘I can’t deny that I enjoyed messing with them, no. When I confronted Roland with his promise, she stood next to him and I could see the smug triumph in her face. So I walked away.’

  ‘With your book.’ Ninni smiled. ‘Good for you.’

  ‘It wasn’t my finest hour, I’m afraid. I actually considered hitting a seventy-five-year-old man. And his daughter.’

  ‘But you didn’t, did you? I think you should get some credit for your self-control. I’m impressed.’

  He smiled and Ninni’s heart jumped at least three beats.

  ‘Impressed, ha? First my food, then my ability not to hit people. That’s not bad.’

  ‘I was impressed long before that,’ Ninni said.

  ‘You were?’ Jack’s smile deepened.

  Ninni took a step closer. ‘Absolutely.’

  He kissed her then, and Ninni sank into him and into the kiss. It was even better than the first time.

  Chapter 15

  Jack leaned back in the boat. He felt infinitely better in his own clothes now that they’d dried, the weather was nice again and Frikk, resting his chin on his leg, was alert, although a bit knackered.

  ‘The swelling has gone down,’ he said.

  Ninni smiled at him. She seemed relaxed and happy. He wondered how much of it had to do with the dog and how much with what had happened between them.

  It had heated up rather nicely, he thought. But there was no way they were going to have sex for the first time on a smelly sofa in a vet’s surgery.

  ‘You look funny,’ Ninni said, stretching her legs in front of her. Next to her was a bucket with a few paper bags. She hadn’t told him what it was, and he didn’t ask. It didn’t mean he wasn’t curious.

  ‘I do? Even in my normal trousers?’ He smiled.

  ‘Not that kind of funny. Your expression,’ she said.

  Jack raised his eyebrows. ‘Funny, how?’

  ‘I don’t know. Like you regret we didn’t sleep together last night
. Do you regret it?’ The question was hesitant and direct at the same time.

  Jack smiled. ‘No, I don’t. Do you?’

  Ninni smiled with a shadow of relief. ‘Not even a little bit. It wasn’t the right setting – or time.’

  That’s good, Jack thought. ‘So, there’s a right time? Okay, I can live with that.’

  Ninni laughed and Frikk lifted his head. ‘Well, how about I invite you for dinner tonight? Since you made dinner for me last night, it’s only fair that I cook for you.’

  Jack decided to tease her. ‘You can cook? What kind of food?’

  ‘Nothing fancy, if that’s what you were hoping for.’ She looked a bit annoyed, which made him smile.

  ‘Okay. I’ll be delighted with whatever you serve. What can I bring?’

  Ninni cocked her head. ‘Are you any good at baking bread?’

  ‘I make fantastic bread, actually. People cry when I make them bread. In fact, people have named their children after me, that’s how good I am,’ Jack said.

  Ninni narrowed her eyes. ‘Then fine. Bring bread, but it has to be white bread.’

  ‘I thought you guys were fanatical about brown bread.’

  ‘It depends on what you’re eating with it. What I’m cooking is absolutely white bread food,’ she said.

  They fell silent. Jack studied the calm water, so different from the night before. The sun was shining, making the surface sparkle.

  ‘It changes so fast,’ Ninni said and looked over his shoulder. ‘Sometimes you turn around and there’s a storm coming. It takes some time getting used to.’

  Jack turned around and looked behind him. The sky was clear blue as far as he could see. ‘Not now, right?’

  Ninni laughed. ‘Not now. You’re safe.’

  Jack scratched Frikk on his head. The dog looked mournful, but his tail flapped a few times.

  ‘What are you going to cook for me?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Something, I guess. Are you allergic to anything? I don’t want to accidentally kill you; that would be bad for my plans.’

  ‘I’m not allergic to anything. I hate runner beans, though. Please don’t cook them.’

  ‘And there goes my runner bean mousse,’ she said.

  Jack smirked. ‘Thank you. It’s awful.’

  ‘There’s your islet.’ Ninni pointed suddenly.

  Jack caught sight of it immediately. There were no sheep to see today. ‘Where are they?’

  ‘Most likely on the other side, or in the middle, I’m guessing. It’s their islet. They roam freely.’

  ‘I’ll never get used to owning goats,’ Jack said.

  ‘They are still sheep.’ Ninni laughed.

  Jack liked seeing her laugh. The first time they met, she had been so furious with him, but right now she was happy.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ he said.

  Ninni frowned. ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘Yes, you do. You are beautiful.’

  ‘No need to flatter me. I won’t throw you overboard.’

  She was teasing him and he enjoyed it. ‘Doesn’t change anything.’

  ‘Okay. We’re here.’ Ninni nodded towards a point behind him.

  Jack turned again. The two boathouses were clearly visible now, and behind them he spotted the roof of his house. Agnar’s house, he corrected himself.

  ‘Good. I could do with a shower, right about now,’ he said.

  Ninni grinned. ‘Yes, you could.’

  ‘You’re cheeky,’ he said.

  And beautiful and funny, and so different from everyone he’d ever met.

  ***

  Ninni made sure Frikk was comfortable in his bed before having a shower. When she came back into the kitchen she checked on him again. His tail wagged against the floor, but he stayed where he was.

  She sat down next to him and gently pulled his ear. ‘You’re fine, aren’t you? Stupid dog. Will you ever hunt vipers again?’

  Frikk licked her nose as if to say he promised to be good.

  ‘Good. I have work to do in the kitchen today. I’m almost as stupid as you are, volunteering to cook for an almost Michelin chef. He’s going to hate it, isn’t he?’

  She talked while looking through the contents of the fridge and pulled out different items. She found a tub of sour cream and some herbs – that looked promising.

  It took less than ten minutes to make a decent remoulade, then she mixed some whipped cream into it, adding dill and chives. She looked at Frikk. ‘What about garlic?’

  Frikk sighed and rested his head on his paws. Ninni laughed. ‘Perhaps not.’

  She took the paper bags from the bucket and put them in the fridge. The dessert didn’t need to be made until they were ready to eat it, so she left the rest of Britt’s eggs on the counter. Then she took a small bag of frozen redcurrants out of the fridge. They’d been picked from the garden the year before but they were still good. She poured them in a bowl and sprinkled some sugar on them.

  ‘Now, if this doesn’t impress him, I don’t know what will, Frikk.’

  She kept talking and smiled every time the dog responded.

  In her head she ran through everything she needed to do. Her hands were shaking. What am I doing? she thought. Her next thought was that the bed needed new sheets.

  ‘Here, sweetie.’ She gave Frikk a treat, then ran upstairs.

  Changing her bed took about five minutes. She looked around. Perhaps not the most seductive room, she thought, glancing at the toy planes hanging from the ceiling and the Barbies on the shelves.

  ‘Bugger this,’ she muttered.

  She headed back downstairs and opened the door to the lounge. Her father had bought a huge couch a few years ago, American style, so that he would have the perfect place to read and relax. That will do, she thought.

  Ninni looked at the time. Only ten hours until dinnertime.

  I need a nap, she thought. She flopped down on the couch and fell asleep, and didn’t notice Frikk coming in from the kitchen and climbing onto the couch and settling in the crook of her knees.

  ***

  Jack hummed. Bread, he thought. That would be easy, but perhaps also an ice cream? It was warm outside and ice cream would do nicely. She would like that, he was sure of it.

  A quick rummage through Agnar’s kitchen cupboards and shelves revealed treasures he hadn’t discovered before, like a bottle of decent red wine and half a bottle of Amaretti liqueur.

  He hurried off to the shop and bought everything he could possibly imagine he would need. Jens didn’t comment on anything, just sorted out which cream was the equivalent to double cream. It turned out there was only one option.

  There was no ice cream machine in Agnar’s kitchen, so he had to go old school, whipping everything together, putting the ice cream in the freezer and then resigning himself to stirring through it every second hour. She liked chocolate, so he opted for a chocolate chip. With a twist, always a twist. He hummed again.

  It paid off to be sneaky, he thought. Then he made the dough for the bread and left it to prove.

  A shower, he thought. I need a shower and a nap. The vet’s office couch was not sleep-friendly at all.

  His mobile buzzed when he came out of the shower. It had buzzed more than once, by the look of it. One text from Holly, one from his dad and three from Fedra. He texted the first two and said he would call them later. He ignored Fedra’s texts.

  Six hours to go, he thought. Plenty of time to get the ice cream perfected and the bread ready.

  Plenty of time.

  He put the alarm on, closed his eyes and fell asleep in a second.

  ***

  A few hours later Jack rang her doorbell. He heard Frikk barking a few times, then he stopped.

  ‘Come in,’ Ninni yelled.

  It wasn’t that easy, Jack thought. His arms were full, but he managed to push the door open and step into the hallway.

  Ninni came down the stairs as he stepped out of his shoes.

  ‘I asked you to
bring bread and you’ve brought everything in your kitchen! Are you that scared of my cooking?’

  She smiled while she talked and Jack handed her the bread. ‘I always try to be on the safe side.’

  Ninni put the bread to her nose and sniffed. ‘Oh, that’s good.’

  ‘I made ice cream too.’

  Ninnis eyes lit up when she took it from him. ‘Lovely. That will go perfectly with my dessert. Thank you. Are you hungry?’

  ‘Getting there,’ Jack said. ‘What are you serving?’

  Ninni put the ice cream in the freezer. ‘It’s a surprise. Go into the lounge, please. I’ll be right with you.’

  ‘One more thing. I found this in one of Agnar’s cupboards.’ Jack pulled the red wine from his pocket. ‘It’s not half bad.’

  ‘Thank you. You’ll find a bottle-opener in the lounge. My dad has a drinks cabinet in there.’

  She disappeared into the kitchen and closed the door behind her. Jack was confused. There were no delicious smells coming from there. What on earth was she doing?

  He walked into the lounge and looked around. A huge sofa in one corner, books everywhere, including the floor, and an old-fashioned cabinet with an array of bottles on top. He found the corkscrew easily enough. While he pulled up the cork, he looked around. Pictures on the wall showed Ninni and her parents – the nice-looking woman had to be her mother; the curls were the same. Most pictures were of Ninni and a variety of dogs.

  He didn’t notice that she had come in until she spoke to him.

  ‘Here.’ She handed him a glass.

  Jack filled up their glasses and put down the bottle. He smiled. ‘You look nice. I haven’t seen you in a dress before.’

  Ninni frowned. ‘Well, I thought I’d make an effort for a change.’

  The dress suited her. She eyed him a bit suspiciously. ‘What?’

  Jack shook his head. ‘Nothing. I’m just happy to be here.’

  Ninni sipped the wine and frowned. ‘So, this is not quite half decent? Are you sure this isn’t one of Agnar’s homemade brews?’

  ‘It has a proper label, from a vineyard in France.’ But it was far from great. ‘Maybe I will use it for sauce next time.’

  ‘Good thing I didn’t invite you for the wine,’ Ninni said. She put down her glass and looked at him.