Summer Island Page 2

  ‘Where do you need me?’ Ninni was happy for the distraction.

  ‘The ice cream stand and probably a lot of other places. And then there’s clean-up duty later. You know how it works.’

  ‘Yes, I do. And you’re lucky, you know. My bunad is here on the island.’ She smiled and picked up the bags of groceries. ‘These weigh a ton.’

  ‘You need to eat.’ Alma patted her cheek. ‘My door is always open. You can tell me all about your broken heart when you’re ready.’

  ‘I will.’ And her heart was broken. But Ninni couldn’t handle kindness. Not now.

  She walked slowly up the narrow hill, eager to get home. Frikk was running in circles around her, thrilled to be back.

  Inside the house it was dark and dusty. Ninni opened a few windows and hung the bedding over the windowsill to let it air out. She found food for Frikk, who wolfed it down in warp speed and then settled down on the outside doormat with a happy and heavy sigh.

  She put on the kettle and made herself an instant coffee, not bothering with the coffee machine. It took ages, and then the coffee always got cold before she remembered to drink it.

  With the warm mug in her hand, she went outside and sat down on the step to enjoy the silence and the wind – the smell of the island, she thought, and took a deep breath. Salty seawater and freshly cut grass, the sweet scent from the early blossoms on the old apple tree and the sharper scent from the juniper bushes by the road made her close her eyes for a moment. It was so good to be here, so safe. Perhaps she would never leave. Perhaps that would make her feel like herself again.

  Then her thoughts turned to Karl and she burst into tears.

  Chapter 2

  The sound of a marching band woke Jack up. A really bad, out-of-tune band with more enthusiasm than talent. More than one band by the sound of it, and all of them playing different melodies.

  For a second he tried to remember if he had drunk anything last night – some strange Norwegian brew that gave hallucinations and amnesia? The drive from Bergen to Haugesund had taken a lot more than the three hours the car rental firm had said and since he had a later start than expected, thanks to that crazy woman at the roundabout, he had missed the last boat to the island.

  The rental firm in Bergen had exchanged the car for him and made him fill out a report on the incident, before informing him that he was lucky he had bought the extended insurance package. He didn’t feel lucky, he felt stupid after telling them that he had driven on the wrong side of the road.

  On the bright side, the road trip from Bergen had lifted his spirits, as had the trip on the car ferry. The countryside was not like any countryside he had seen, all mountains and ragged coastline. When he’d arrived in Haugesund he was promptly told by the hotel that there were no cars on that island. No cars? It was ridiculous.

  Jack hoped it was a bad dream, but the music continued after he opened his eyes. Sound hallucinations were a symptom of brain cancer, weren’t they? He pulled a hand slowly through his hair. It wasn’t a hallucination from a really bad hangover either.

  Reluctantly, he got out of bed and walked over to the window. He pulled the curtains aside and peered outside, not quite sure what he was looking at.

  ‘This is weird,’ he said.

  The hotel window had a view over a small square and two streets. Further down he spotted a bridge. When he had arrived the night before, he hadn’t really got much of an impression. It was just empty streets with lots of white houses.

  Now the streets were filled with people. It looked as if there was a huge fancy dress party for the entire town. ‘Weird,’ he said again.

  Lots of women dressed in long skirts with embroidery everywhere, others in summer dresses and colourful summer coats. Most of the men he saw wore suits and ties, but some of them had costumes as well, reminding him of Morris dancers.

  There were Norwegian flags absolutely everywhere. Along the street stood flagpoles, outside every shop smaller flags decorated the shop fronts, and there were flags on the front and back of taxis and buses passing by on the upper street. There were small flags on people’s bicycles and babies’ prams, even flags fluttering from dogs’ collars. Children and teenagers had flags painted on their cheeks or forehead, some on their whole face.

  And so much noise. There were the marching bands he couldn’t see, only hear. Then there were whistles and horns blaring, and yelling from hordes of children running around with plastic trumpets in their hands.

  Jack rubbed his head and stretched. One thing he knew for sure, it had nothing to do with him. All he had to do was find the boat to the island and get on board. The sooner he got a good look at the property, the sooner he could sell the place and head back home to London, to his proper life. With money in the bank, he hoped.

  After a quick shower, he packed the suitcase and took the lift to the reception. Someone had put a flag on the wall inside the lift.

  The receptionist wore a long, pleated dark blue skirt, a white puffy shirt, a red vest with sequins on and, for some reason, a pin made of red, white and blue ribbons. She was blonde and good-looking, almost as tall as him. And she looked at his outfit with a slight frown, before putting on a professional smile.

  ‘I’ll have your bill ready for you in a second, Mr Greene. Have you had breakfast? The restaurant is open all day today. The breakfast on 17th of May is always special. If you’re lucky there might even be Champagne and strawberries left,’ she said in the singsong accent he had noticed most people had when they spoke English.

  Champagne for breakfast? Weird brew, he thought. But he had had enough of restaurants for a while. ‘No, thank you. I’m fine. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but what are you wearing?’

  ‘Oh, this is a bunad,’ she said, blushing when she smiled.

  ‘Is that like a work uniform? Because I didn’t see anyone wearing a costume like that when I arrived last night. And now it’s everywhere,’ Jack said.

  She laughed. ‘Today is 17th of May.’ She seemed a bit taken aback that she had to explain the obvious to him.

  ‘Yes, I know that, but why all the ruckus?’ Jack noticed that there were flags inside the reception as well. Even the flower decorations had flags, and the flowers were red, white and blue.

  He was distracted by a group of people entering from the street. They were dressed for a party, all suits and dresses. Almost all of them had red, white and blue ribbons attached to their jackets or coat collars.

  ‘Constitution Day,’ the receptionist said with a huge smile now.

  Jack smiled back. She was cute. ‘I know that too, but I have no idea what it means.’

  ‘It’s the day we celebrate our constitution. It’s a really big deal in Norway. Everybody dresses up, eats and drinks, has fun, gives congratulations to each other. There are parades of school children all over the country. It’s one of the best days of the year, especially if you’re a kid. You’ll see when you go outside.’

  ‘Right. So all this is normal?’ he said and pointed to the chaos outside.

  ‘Only today. Tomorrow we all get back to our boring selves. With massive hangovers for some of us, of course.’ She was laughing at him now. ‘Would you like a ribbon? If you don’t mind me saying so, you look a little underdressed.’

  Jack looked at the ribbon she held out to him and shook his head. He didn’t think it would improve much on his jeans and sweater. Probably should have taken the suit, he thought. ‘Thank you, but I don’t think so.’

  He gave her his credit card and paid for the room.

  ‘I’m supposed to take a boat from here to this island.’ Jack pushed a note towards her. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t pronounce it properly.’

  ‘You can get the boat from Risøy. Walk straight down here, cross Haraldsgaten and Strandgaten, go across the bridge and go right until you come to the jetty. It’s easy to find and should take you about ten minutes to walk.’

  Jack thanked her. He pointed to the left. ‘Just go that way, right?’

&
nbsp; ‘Of course. You can’t miss the bridge even if you try.’

  She handed him back his credit card and a receipt. ‘I hope you have a pleasant stay, Mr Greene.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Jack looked outside. More people. It looked confusing. ‘Just across the two first streets, yes?’

  ‘Yes, but you’d better hurry. The parade will pass by any minute on Haraldsgaten. When that happens, it may take you some time to cross. Every school in town is there. That’s a lot of children.’

  A parade, Jack thought as he made his way outside, pulling the suitcase behind him.

  It took him a minute to realise that there was purpose in the chaos he had observed from the hotel room. People walked downhill, lining up on either side of the lower street. A sign on one of the buildings caught his eye. “Haraldsgaten” it said. Okay, so this was the first street.

  The marching band music was getting louder. Jack followed the stream of people. He was tall, so he could see banners and flags coming towards them.

  He looked at his watch. Not that it mattered what time it was. He had no appointments, no job to go to any more, no stress. He was free to do whatever pleased him. Plenty of time to cross a couple of streets and get into a boat to a godforsaken island.

  He threaded between prams and hordes of small children clutching plastic trumpets and small, bright coloured windmills for some reason. Even the little ones wore bunads.

  It was massive and it looked like people had fun. He envied them a little, the way everyone seemed to belong. He stopped in front of a barrier, like the ones used at concerts. The only opening was by a stern-looking policeman.

  Jack walked over to him. The policeman looked him over.

  ‘Excuse me, but I’d like to cross. I have a boat to catch on the other side of that bridge,’ Jack said and pointed.

  The policeman frowned. ‘Today?’

  ‘Yes, that would be nice. I’m told the boat leaves on the hour.’ Jack pulled out the envelope again. He held it up, feeling rather foolish.

  ‘Why are you going to the island today?’ The policeman looked him over with growing suspicion. It made Jack wonder about what kind of island he was going to.

  ‘Apparently I’ve inherited a farm there,’ Jack said. ‘It sounds absurd, I know. When the first email arrived, I thought it was one of those scams, you know? From Nigeria or Russia, only this was from Norway. So I deleted it. And then I deleted the next one. Then a letter came in the post from a British law firm, and I knew it was real. At least I think so. I’m going to the island today to check it out.’

  What am I doing? he thought. Babbling on like a maniac.

  Not that it mattered much. The policeman was clearly not listening to him any more. Instead he was staring over his shoulder and grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘Hang on. See the girl carrying the school standard? That’s my kid.’

  He pointed and Jack looked. A girl of about twelve was using both hands to hold onto a school standard that looked far too heavy for her.

  Her face lit up when her father waved at her. She had one of those bunads on. Behind her followed lines of children, all dressed to the hilt, waving flags, singing and yelling.

  ‘Looks great,’ Jack said.

  ‘You bet she does. Strong too. Those standards are bloody heavy and she has to carry it all the way through town. Okay, stay close to me; I’ll get you across.’

  Jack followed him as he held up a hand like a traffic constable. The band stopped walking, creating a bit of a ruckus behind them as some children walked into the ones in front. Jack ran across. He turned to wave at the policeman, but he was already lost in the crowds.

  Jack pulled his suitcase behind him. The noise from the parade faded. He thought about what had happened the day before. He’d been on his way from the airport to the lawyer’s office when he’d hit that girl. God, he could have killed her. That would have been something for the papers, he thought. Sacked Chef At One Of London’s Hippest Restaurants Kills Norwegian Woman.

  At the lawyer’s office everything had been very clinical. An hour later, he’d stood outside again with a large brown envelope in his hand – the papers that proved he was the rightful owner of Agnar Berget’s farm. He couldn’t bring himself to think of Agnar as his father. It was too odd.

  Jack put his hand in his pocket and felt the key. One key for a whole farm. It was … weird.

  Perhaps he could call his dad from the boat. He knew the trip would take about thirty minutes.

  He stopped on top of the bridge to have a look around. The harbour was filled with all sorts of boats, everything from small motorboats to large ferries, even a few rowing boats. Not one without a flag or two, he noticed.

  Along the pier there were restaurants, already filled with people. So not everyone was taking part in the parade, he thought, and started walking again.

  Someone pointed out the ferry for him and he found a place outside. The weather was sunny and windy. He was surprised. In Bergen he’d been told that in Haugesund it was always raining.

  Not today, he thought, feeling the sweat on his back.

  He stayed on deck until it got too windy. There were a few people on board. They looked at him, but no one talked to him.

  Jack rang his dad, who answered at once.

  ‘What’s that noise?’ Paul asked.

  ‘Boat engines, I think. I don’t really know.’

  Paul laughed. ‘How are you liking it so far? Did you meet the lawyer?’

  ‘Yesterday. He gave me an envelope and a key. One key for a whole farm. I’m guessing it’s filled with rotten outbuildings and a house the wind blew upside down.’

  ‘Well, yes, but is it an adventure?’

  Jack looked out of the window. It had salt water stripes from the seawater constantly showering the glass. ‘It’s okay, I guess. Bergen was a proper town. This town, Haugesund, is a lot smaller. They don’t even have cars on this island, Dad.’

  Paul chuckled. ‘The fresh air will do you a world of good. Do some fishing, enjoy the sun and get your head straight. You need to learn to relax, Jack. You need an adventure.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure I’ll be bored out of my mind after a few days,’ Jack said.

  ‘Oh, by the way, that Fedra called again. Are you really not taking her calls?’

  The last thing Jack wanted was to discuss Fedra. ‘What did you tell her?’

  ‘I told her the same thing I told her last time she called, that I have no idea where you have gone, how long you will be gone and that she should stop harassing me. She didn’t like that,’ Paul said.

  I bet she didn’t, Jack thought. ‘Just block her, Dad. I’ll talk to her in a few days.’

  Jack didn’t feel very encouraged when he put the phone back in his pocket. Not even a tiny bit. He knew all too well how persistent Fedra could be. She wouldn’t give up.

  Chapter 3

  Ninni handed a strawberry ice lolly to a five-year-old boy, who took it with both hands. His eyes were bigger than the lolly.

  ‘Are you sure you can eat that? I think it’s your third one,’ she said.

  He carefully released the grip of one hand and held it up, spreading his fingers out. ‘This many. That’s more than anyone else has eaten,’ he said, beaming with pride.

  ‘Good luck,’ Ninni said.

  I wouldn’t like to be your parents later tonight when the belly-ache starts, she thought. But on 17th of May the tradition was unlimited ice lollies and hot dogs for kids, or at least as many as they could eat.

  She was manning the ice cream and hot dog stand outside the shop. Alma was inside, handing out soda and coffee to the adults. The island’s small children’s parade was over, and now there was ice lollies and sweets until the dance on the pier later. Even though it was technically a school night, most children would stay up, enjoying the party.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  She looked up and saw a man towering over her. He wasn’t wearing the expensive suit, so it took her a few seconds to r
ecognise him.

  ‘You!’

  He was standing there, like a tourist. How strange was that? It made her wonder if he had followed her after the accident. But why on earth would he follow her and then wait to approach her until the next day? It didn’t make sense. ‘Oh, God, are you stalking me?’

  He frowned. ‘Excuse me?’

  Ninni raised her eyebrows. ‘Excuse you? I’m not excusing you for anything. You’re obviously a crazy person.’

  He lifted his hands in defeat. ‘I’m sorry. I have no idea who you are.’

  Ninni was outraged. ‘You ran me down with that stupid driving of yours yesterday. You shouldn’t even be walking into revolving doors. Are you stalking me or something?’

  He looked horrified for a moment. ‘No, are you mad? I had no idea you were here. How would I know that? I’m just visiting. I’m sorry, but I didn’t recognise you in your bunad.’

  ‘Who are you visiting?’ She couldn’t believe it.

  ‘I’ve always wanted to see a proper Norwegian island,’ he said and then he smiled.

  Ninni didn’t like the jolt in her stomach. She glared at him. Dressed in jeans and a grey sweatshirt, he stuck out among all the people in their party clothes. He was pulling a suitcase behind him. Perhaps he really was a tourist. And he was so out of sync with everyone because of the way he dressed it was ridiculous.

  ‘I’m a bit lost, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘This is a bit overwhelming. I’ve never been to a Constitution Day before.’

  She frowned. ‘We don’t bite.’

  He smiled back at her. ‘Do you promise?’

  Was he flirting with her? She hoped not. That would be too weird. And for some absurd reason it made her feel guilty. For what, she had no idea. As if she was cheating on Karl, and that made her mad.

  He really was a complete idiot if he thought flirting would get him into her good graces. What a prat, she thought.

  ‘Ice cream or hot dog?’ she said quickly, to avoid confusion. Whether for him or for herself, she didn’t care to know.

  ‘Excuse me?’ He was staring at her with an intense look in his eyes.