Christmas Island Page 2

  ‘I wouldn’t know. I’m not an islander.’

  The giant cat ran along beside them, sometimes disappearing into the dark, but always returning to his owner’s side.

  Holly told herself that serial killers wouldn’t have giant, friendly cats. But then again, cats were rumoured to be psychopaths. It was a hard call.

  ‘I’m Holly Greene. What’s your name?’ Holly tried to smile at him.

  He was having none of it, but at least he answered.

  ‘Tor,’ he finally said.

  Holly gave him a disbelieving look. ‘Your name is Thor? For real?’

  He stopped and glared at her. ‘No, it’s not Thor, it’s Tor, like in… in torpedo. No bloody, lisping h, for God’s sake. Don’t know where they got that spelling from. There are no “Thors” in Norway, and if there are, the bloody h is silent in all of them.’

  Holly couldn’t hide her giggles. She pressed a hand against her mouth.

  ‘What, you think it’s amusing to make fun of my name?’ He didn’t smile at all.

  ‘I think it’s funny that you take it so seriously, yes. I’m sorry if I offended you,’ she added, in case he was so annoyed he changed his mind and left her there. ‘What’s your last name?’

  ‘Rude. And before you laugh again, it’s spelled r-u-u-d.’ He turned his back and kept walking. Boy, did he have the right last name, Holly thought.

  After a while she spotted a single light in the darkness.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  Tor slowed down his pace and took her suitcase from her without asking.

  ‘My house. It’s too late to get you to the other side of the island, and frankly, I don’t want to wander around, knocking on people’s doors. Tomorrow morning you can return to the harbour and ask for better directions.’

  ‘If you have a mobile phone that works, I can call my brother and ask for directions right now,’ she said, not too keen on spending a night with a total stranger in this horrible place.

  ‘Don’t have it with me. How can he give you directions if he’s not here? Does he know the island that well?’

  They were climbing a sloping trail of sorts and Holly was gasping for air. ‘Maybe not Jack, but Ninni does. She practically grew up here,’ Holly said.

  ‘Don’t know her and I don’t have a phone with me. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m cold and I’m going home. The harbour is back the same way you came.’

  ‘Are you some sort of psychopath? Are you seriously going to send me away into the darkness after you and your cat saved me from almost falling off the edge?’

  Tor frowned. ‘No, I’m not. But neither am I trekking along the pathway in the dark. I’m trying to tell you it’s safer to come with me.’

  ‘You’re not right in the head,’ Holly muttered.

  She almost stumbled over the cat who had placed himself in her path, looking at her with those luminous eyes.

  ‘Fine. I would prefer to come with you, please,’ she said, without looking at Tor.

  ‘Good choice. You can use my phone when you get to the house and if you have a computer, you can try that. Both phone signals and Wi-Fi are erratic on this side of the island, I’m afraid.’

  Erratic signals and eccentric Vikings, Holly thought. This was mad.

  She hoped she would wake up from this nightmare soon.

  Tor pulled the heavy suitcase behind him. He had no idea what had made him go outside. He never did after dark. It was too… isolated and rough, and he missed the street lights back home in Oslo.

  With street lights you knew where you were, you could see everything. Nobody could sneak up on you and you were in no danger of falling off cliffs if you made a wrong turn.

  But Frøy had made such a ruckus he had had to go outside. At the time he had thought perhaps there were foxes or something, scaring the cat, or more likely, pissing him off.

  Except the minute they stood outside, Frøy ran ahead of him, occasionally stopping to look back, making sure he was coming. Then he heard the singing. The voice was crystal clear, with perfect pitch, and he wondered if the island had sirens he didn’t know about.

  And when he stopped, he did so in front of a woman who seemed as out of place as he was. The thought that she could have tipped over the edge, falling into the sea and probably to her death without anyone on the island knowing about it, was sobering.

  He was glad they had found her when they did. Although, he wouldn’t tell her that. She was annoying. An intrusion in his quiet life. And he liked his life quiet, thank you very much.

  All he had to do was make up the sofa, leave her to herself and maybe feed her. Then, in the morning, he would point her in the right direction and happily return to his peaceful existence.

  He could hear her struggling behind him. The path up to the house wasn’t exactly a paved road. It was barely a path, littered with gravel and holes.

  Again Frøy ran in front of him and sat in the middle of the path. Tor sighed. ‘Troll,’ he muttered.

  ‘Sorry? I couldn’t hear you,’ Holly said.

  Tor almost growled at the cat before turning to her. ‘Give me your hand.’

  She stopped. ‘No,’ she said.

  He held out his hand. ‘We’re coming to an icy stretch. Your chances of not falling on your bum are better if you let me help you. Your boots are not suited for the weather conditions on the island,’ he explained.

  She looked down on her boots. ‘They were supposed to be perfect for snow,’ she said.

  ‘I’m sure they are, but what we have here is ice and rain and sleet, and under that, partially frozen mud. If you don’t have metal studs on the soles, you will fall. And if you hurt yourself, there’s no doctor on the island.’

  ‘There is now,’ she said, grabbing his hand.

  ‘What?’ Tor was only half-listening when he pulled her over a hole in the ground.

  ‘I’m a doctor,’ she said, leaving out a few crucial details.

  ‘Good for you. But I don’t think it will help if you get hurt. You’re not Doctor Rogozov,’ he said.

  Holly narrowed her eyes. ‘And this is not the South Pole and I doubt a fall will require me to cut out my own appendix.’

  He almost smiled then. ‘You know about that?’

  ‘Of course I do. All doctors know the famous Russian doctor who had to operate on himself because they were in the middle of a South Pole winter,’ Holly said.

  He was puzzled by that, but didn’t say anything more. ‘Come on, we’re almost there.’

  And it was true. A few minutes later, they reached a gate, hooked on both side to an odd, diagonal kind of picket fence.

  The light in the window came from the kitchen, the only window facing the pathway. ‘It’s warm and you’ll be safe,’ he said before opening the door.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, following him inside the house.

  Frøy shot past them into the lounge and flopped down on the sofa. He obviously considered his job done.

  Tor turned around and looked at her. She stood still in the hallway and looked bedraggled. ‘Take of your boots and coat, and go into the lounge. Are you hungry?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes. Thank you.’

  Tor found the constant thanking unnerving. ‘You don’t have to thank me all the time. We don’t really do that here. Also, it’s Frøy you should thank. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be asleep on the sofa and you would be in the water.’

  Holly smiled slightly. ‘Okay. I can do that.’

  Tor watched her as she sat on the sofa, as close to the fireplace as she could, and reached out a hand to pet Frøy.

  He held his breath. Frøy was a friendly cat, but sometimes he’d bite if he wasn’t in the mood to be petted.

  ‘My phone is charging by the television. Feel free to use it,’ he said, all the time watching Frøy.

  When the big cat rolled around and put a paw on her hand, he smiled. Silly cat, he thought before going to the kitchen.

  ‘Thank you,’ she called after him
.

  Mad woman, he thought.

  Chapter Three

  Holly picked up Tor’s phone from the charger, but didn’t call anyone right away. Instead she stroked the cat. He was fluffy as a cloud and soft as a pillow.

  ‘You look like a pillow too, don’t you?’ she said and smiled when he swatted her hand.

  It took her a second to realise that the grumbling sound she heard now was the cat purring. He sounded like he had an engine in his throat.

  ‘You are so beautiful. I’m not actually a cat person. We never had any pets. And most cats are so… so weird,’ Holly said.

  The cat’s giant paw stopped her when she tried to pull away her hand. So she leaned against the sofa back and closed her eyes.

  I really should have stayed at a hotel, she thought.

  Everything would have been easier if she had arrived on the island in daylight. No scary edge, no weird cat and no angry, bearded man.

  She was almost asleep when Tor returned with a tray and put it on the table in front of her.

  ‘It’s just soup. I’ll get you some bread. Did you make your call?’

  ‘Uhm, no, not yet.’

  Holly’s stomach growled and made the cat lift his head.

  ‘I’ll call my dad after I’ve eaten,’ she told him.

  She took the spoon and pulled the bowl closer. It smelled divine.

  ‘What kind of soup is this?’ Holly lifted her spoon.

  ‘It’s fish soup, with a few different types of fish, some fish balls, and then some crab and shrimps, some veggies and cream,’ he said, reminding her of Jack’s way of listing ingredients.

  ‘Fish balls?’ Holly gave the soup a suspicious look.

  She thought he smiled, although it was difficult to see through the beard.

  ‘No, it’s fish dumplings. Made of flour and fish, and cooked in a broth,’ he said.

  ‘Did you make it?’

  He looked surprised by the question. ‘I’m the only one here. Uhm, I forgot something. Be right back.’

  She found one of the dumplings and tasted it. It was good, she decided, and was halfway through the bowl when Tor returned with thick slices of brown bread, buttered and covered in almost equally thick slices of cheese.

  Holly smiled at him. ‘I have to thank you for this. I haven’t really eaten anything since I left London. This is really good, by the way.’

  ‘It will warm you up,’ he said.

  ‘Aren’t you having anything?’ Holly got worried he had given her all of his supper. ‘I don’t want to leave you with nothing.’

  ‘No need to worry. There’s plenty of soup. I always make enough to last me for days. I’ll get you some blankets and pillows. Be right back,’ he said again.

  Holly took one of the bread slices and sniffed it. It smelled so good, it was impossible to think about anything else. Not toast, but it would do.

  She emptied the bowl before she checked her phone. Dead as a dormouse. She sighed. Perhaps it would help to let it dry out and then trying to charge it again. And if that didn’t work, maybe Jack or Ninni had an extra phone she could use. Or she could buy one in town. Or maybe just learn to live without it. She did have the computer, but still. It wouldn’t be the same.

  Tor’s phone worked. She almost sniffled when her dad answered.

  ‘Hi, Dad. I’ve arrived on the island. No, everything is fine. I’m at the house,’ she lied.

  ‘How do you like the island?’ Paul loved to hear about the place.

  ‘I wouldn’t know. I… It was dark when I came here. No street lights. It’s like staying in a house that floats through space.’

  That made him laugh, as she had hoped it would. ‘I’m so tired, Dad. Can we talk tomorrow? I need to eat something and sleep. And my phone got wet.’

  Holly squeezed her eyes closed. Shouldn’t have said that, she thought.

  ‘That’s why the number screen said unknown number? I thought it was because you’re in Norway. Who’s phone are you using?’

  ‘Jack or Ninni must have left it here. I found it a few minutes ago.’

  ‘Good. You should always have an extra phone in your handbag, you know. I’ve told you that so many times.’

  It was her teenage years all over again. He would catch her lying and then make a big fuss.

  ‘I really should. Good night, Dad,’ she said.

  ‘Good night, poppet. Don’t let the bedbugs bite,’ he said.

  Holly put Tor’s phone back on the charger and returned to the sofa. It was good to talk to her dad but if he knew what really happened, he would worry. No need for that.

  She took a bite of the bread and closed her eyes. It was too good to eat fast. ‘Oh, my god,’ she muttered.

  The cat lifted his head and looked at her, blinking slowly.

  ‘Too bad for you, cats don’t eat bread. Not sure if I can offer you a piece of cheese either,’ Holly said.

  Frøy rolled around, turning his back on her and waving his tail in her face.

  ‘Lovely,’ Holly said, pushing the tray away. She was wondering if she should call Jocelyn, then remembered that she was on the night shift.

  She looked up when Tor came back, his arms filled with bed sheets and pillows and even a duvet.

  ‘I’m not sure I’ll have to eat anything else in my life,’ she said, remembering not to say thank you.

  ‘You’ll be hungry again soon enough.’ Tor dropped everything on top of a chair. ‘I don’t have an extra toothbrush.’

  He’s awfully practical, Holly thought. It was sweet.

  She nodded at the suitcase he had placed by the door. ‘I have everything I need in there.’

  ‘You look concerned. Is there something wrong?’ Tor glanced at her.

  Holly smiled. ‘I hope I’m not too much of an inconvenience for you. You were probably not expecting guests tonight.’

  Tor looked at her. ‘I’m not used to company, to be honest. I hope you’ll be comfortable enough on the sofa. There’s only one bedroom, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Next time I’ll text you in advance,’ Holly said, trying to lighten the mood.

  ‘That would be good,’ he said, and Holly caught him smiling, which was quite a feat, considering all that scraggly beard.

  ‘I couldn’t anyway since my phone is dead,’ she said, suddenly embarrassed. ‘I’ll have to get a new one, I think.’

  ‘Ah, sorry, I can’t help you there. Did you make your call?’

  ‘Yes, thank you. My dad worries if he doesn’t hear from me when I travel. I guess that’s what fathers do.’

  ‘I wouldn’t know. Do you need the phone again?’

  Holly shook her head, wondering what he had meant. Perhaps he had lost his father at some point. But she couldn’t ask him that.

  He picked up the phone and put it in his pocket, then went over to the fireplace and put another log on it. ‘I brought an extra blanket in case it gets cold in here. This is an old house and I have found there to be drafts in the window frames.’

  Holly was comfortably warm. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’

  ‘Good. I have work to do, I’m afraid, so I will leave you to it. My room is upstairs. The bathroom is on the other side of the hallway. And feel free to use the kitchen if you get hungry or thirsty. Good night.’

  Holly didn’t know what to say. ‘Uhm, thank you?’ she said.

  He smiled again. ‘No need. I’ll take away the tray.’

  ‘No, please let me. I can do the dishes, you know,’ she said, trying to make him smile again.

  ‘I’m sure you can, but you are my guest, and as such, you will not do the dishes. I’ll take the tray.’

  She cocked her head, watching him. He sounds like an old butler, she thought. ‘Okay. I’ll see you in the morning then, I guess.’

  ‘I’m up pretty early, so don’t get spooked if you hear me in the hallway.’ He held one hand on the door handle – ready to bolt, Holly thought.

  ‘Of course. Uhm, Tor. What about Frøy?’ Holly looked a
t the gigantic cat splayed out in front of the fireplace.

  ‘Frøy goes where he wants too. Just leave the door ajar and he’ll wander off when he feels like it.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Holly smiled her best smile.

  He didn’t say anything, just nodded and left. The cat stayed behind.

  Holly listened to his steps up the stairs. There was no reason for her to worry about him attacking her while she slept. The stairs was so squeaky she would hear him a mile away. All good then, she thought. Not that she thought he would ever do something like that. She didn’t get that kind of vibe from him. Holly sighed. Not that her ‘vibedar’ got it right every time. Brian was a perfect example of that.

  No, not thinking about Brian now. Better to focus on Tor the Viking.

  She wondered what Tor was working on in an old house on a desolate island. An artist, maybe? She looked around. He had said the house was rented, so presumably what was in here wasn’t his.

  ‘Which is really good,’ she told Frøy. ‘Because this is a strange place.’

  Now that she was alone, she could take a proper look around. One wall was covered in floor to ceiling bookshelves. That wasn’t the strange thing. The small pieces of what appeared to be carpets hanging on the wall was.

  Holly got up from the sofa and walked over to them. No, not carpets, weaving of some sort. All sorts of patterns and stripes, and very colourful. They looked nice on closer inspection, but why on the wall? Why not on the table, or used as throw pillow covers?

  On one of the shelves she discovered playing cards and an assortment of board games. All worn out from use. Nice, she thought. Probably a family lived here, instead of the grumpy troll upstairs. Or maybe it was some kind of permanent holiday let? Could be.

  She opened a few drawers and discovered silver cutlery next to an even bigger assortment of match boxes and lighters. ‘Either he’s a pyromaniac troll or someone who lived here used to smoke a whole lot.’

  Frøy had climbed on top of the sofa again. His tail flicked behind him. Holly smiled. ‘You’re like a guard cat, aren’t you?’

  A troll cat, perhaps. Her eyes fell on a few framed drawings on the wall by the door. She smiled when she saw them. They were drawings of creatures with long noses. Trolls, Holly thought. Actual fairy tale trolls.