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Christmas Island Page 4


  Holly buttered the waffle and dropped a dollop of jam on it.

  ‘Do you make these every morning?’ She pulled one of the hearts away and put it in her mouth. ‘Oh, my god,’ she said, chewing slowly to savour the taste. ‘These are fantastic.’

  ‘Yes, they are. I make them every morning during winter. People like something warm with their coffee.’ Alma filled the waffle iron again and pressed down. The stack of waffles grew rapidly.

  Holly licked her fingers. ‘Most mornings I eat a stale sandwich from one of the coffee shops on my way to work,’ she said.

  ‘That’s not good for you,’ Alma said.

  Not sure if waffles are good for me either, Holly thought, but didn’t protest when Alma placed a second hot waffle on her plate.

  A few more customers came in while she sat there. They didn’t have time to chat, but left with waffles and coffee, and a curious glance at Holly.

  ‘Want to try some brown cheese on it?’ Alma said with a glint in her eyes.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Holly said. Jack raved about that cheese, but he had a strange palate.

  Alma put down a square of caramel-coloured cheese, with a cheese cutter on the side. ‘Enjoy.’

  Holly didn’t want to admit that she hadn’t used one of those things before. The only place she had seen that kind of cheese cutter was in Ikea.

  She kept her hand steady and cut too deep, making a thicker slice than she had intended. Aware that Alma was watching her and being far too self-conscious, Holly put the cheese on the last waffle heart and bit into it.

  It was weird. ‘Like soft, sticky toffee,’ she said.

  ‘Better than that,’ Alma said.

  Not going to argue with an old woman about her cheese. Holly nodded. ‘Good.’

  She discovered something when she took another bite of the waffle. She did not like brown cheese. It stuck to the roof of her mouth. Like peanut butter, but without the salty flavour.

  Alma laughed. ‘It’s an acquired taste. Please, you don’t have to eat it.’

  They both looked up when the ship’s horn sounded. ‘There she goes. I guess that means we can get you to Ninni’s house. That’s where you’re staying, right?’

  Holly nodded. ‘Yes, Jack said that’s the nicest house and also that the farm wasn’t really fit for living in yet.’

  ‘Oh, absolutely not. The farm is still very much an old bachelor pad, and hasn’t been refurbished in forty years or so. Agnar didn’t believe in spending money on “unnecessary things”, as he called them.’ She shrugged. ‘But then again, he didn’t have any family to take care of.’

  Holly knew the whole story. Jack had struggled with coming to terms with this unknown father leaving him his farm. ‘Jack has been so busy with the restaurant,’ she said, feeling a need to defend her brother.

  Alma smiled at her, a smile that lit up her face. ‘Of course he has and a grand job he’s doing of it too. You’ll come and see it when you have settled. Don’t get me wrong, my dear. We are all so happy to have Jack and Ninni on the island. We need more young people here.’

  She took off her apron and slung it over a chair, then fished a set of keys from her pocket. ‘Let’s get you to the house.’

  ‘Do you sell mobile phones here?’ Holly said before they left.

  Alma shook her head. ‘You’ll have to go to the mainland for that, I’m afraid.’

  Holly nodded, feeling a bit resigned and a lot silly. Just as well, she thought. If anyone wanted to get in touch, there was the laptop and social media.

  Detoxing from the phone, she thought as she followed Alma outside. That’s a new one.

  Chapter Five

  Alma insisted on walking her to Ninni’s house. She had also made sure they brought with them a bag of groceries, despite Holly trying to explain to her that she only ever ate food that could be microwaved.

  Those were not the magic words. Alma, she learned, did not believe in microwaves.

  The walk to Ninni’s house was short. Holly couldn’t understand how she had managed to get it so wrong the night before. Alma seemed to know what she was thinking.

  ‘You got it wrong right over there,’ she said, pointing at a fork in the gravel road.

  Holly smiled. ‘It was awfully dark last night. I’m not used to not having street lights.’

  ‘I don’t know how you can live having them, to be honest. You can’t see the stars or the sky in London, can you?’ Alma said.

  ‘Sometimes we can, but not like this. Light pollution they call it. Oh, that’s lovely.’ Holly stopped to admire the huge wreath decorating the front door.

  ‘Yes, I think Ninni has gone completely Christmas mad this year,’ Alma said.

  The house was small and white, and the black sleet roof was partially covered with patches of snow. A redbrick chimney pipe made Holly think of gingerbread houses with icing.

  The illusion grew stronger when they entered the house. The first thing that caught Holly’s attention was a grinning doll sitting on the last stair of a staircase. He had on a white shirt, a red vest, black trousers, and Holly was sure he also wore clogs. On top of his curly, white hair, perched a red woollen bobble hat. ‘What is that?’ she said.

  ‘Oh, it’s a nisse.’ Alma looked at the doll with a frown. ‘Not sure how I can explain that in English. You probably don’t have those in England.’

  Holly wondered why the nisse grinned like a maniac and only had four teeth. ‘Are they some kind of goblin?’

  ‘Not sure what that is. They are a part of Norwegian folklore. According to the stories, they belong to the underground creatures, and they live at farms where they take care of the farm animals, and make sure that the farm is thriving. Do you have anything like that?’

  Holly had to think about it and remembered her nana’s stories. ‘Yes, we do. They’re called brownies.’

  ‘Isn’t that a cake?’ Alma smiled.

  ‘Brownie the cake is American. Brownies are supposed to be mean spirits who live on farms and work at night. You have to give them sacrifices: food and drinks, I think, or they will make trouble,’ Holly said.

  ‘The nisse is not an evil spirit. He, or she, works with the farmer. They have the same goal, after all. They want the farm to be prosperous and the animals to be happy and well taken care of,’ Alma said, frowning slightly. ‘But, if the farmer disrespects them or mistreats the animals, they can be mischievous. And if they get really mad, then they have been known to give the farmer some serious trouble.’

  Holly wasn’t sure Alma was completely sane. She sounded like she thought they were real.

  She gave the nisse-brownie one last look, just in case he was up to something, then followed Alma into the kitchen.

  It looked like a Christmas shop had exploded in there. The curtains were red and white and there was an embroidered tablecloth on the table. Holly discovered the pattern was red poinsettias with green leaves. ‘This is nice,’ she said, touching one of the flowers.

  Alma nodded. ‘Petter’s mother made that, along with the curtains. She was good at crafts. You will want to be careful not to spill anything on it. It’s probably from the sixties. Ninni has made an effort this year, I see. It must be because of you.’

  Holly was delighted. ‘She’s very thoughtful.’

  ‘That she is.’ Alma lifted the bag of groceries onto the counter. ‘I think you’ll be fine here. Now that you know where we are, please drop by if you need anything else or even if you’re simply bored. Anything.’

  ‘Uhm, I’ll do that,’ Holly said. ‘Thank you,’ she added quickly.

  ‘You will find that we are nice to people out here, and you are Jack’s sister, so that makes you one of us right away,’ Alma said, smiling.

  ‘Thank you,’ Holly said again, amused by the idea of being an islander by proxy. They had really taken Jack in as one of the family.

  Alma disappeared quickly and Holly closed the door with a sigh of relief. She locked the door too, despite Jack and Ninni insis
ting nobody ever did that.

  There are maniacs everywhere, she told herself. She was still not convinced about Tor.

  She put away the groceries and marvelled at all the stuff she had no idea how to cook. Vegetables that needed peeling and cutting and boiling, meat that looked far too advanced for her capabilities, and all sorts of cheeses with names she couldn’t pronounce anyway.

  ‘Not in a million years,’ she said and put most of the items away in the fridge. They would probably survive until Jack returned.

  At least there’s pasta, she thought after a quick rummage in the cupboards. And luckily a jar of some sort of pasta sauce. Not Jack’s, obviously, as he hated those. Oh, no, for the great chef only homemade sauce would do, and all the time while he cooked it, he would be karaokeing the hell out of some poor Italian ballad.

  Not having the energy to even think about food, she left the suitcase in the hallway and went exploring.

  In the lounge there were even more Christmas decorations. Every table seemed to have candles in candlesticks, decorated with what looked like scrunchies at the base. Way too much of a fire hazard, she thought. But they looked cheerful. No elf on the shelf anywhere, but a few more of the nisse-brownie; this time females with long skirts and white aprons and the silly grins that seemed to be a trademark. It was a bit unsettling.

  On the mantlepiece there were family pictures. Frikk the dog and Ninni’s daughter Rosie featured in all of them. She hadn’t met Frikk yet and she had only seen Rosie the two times they had been to London to meet the family. And even then she barely had any time to spend with them.

  There had had to be a disaster, like her whole life collapsing, to get her to the island. And then Jack and Ninni had decided to go to Spain with Rosie before she arrived. Although she didn’t mind it so much. Being alone felt good. At least for right now.

  Holly turned on the TV as the silence was getting to her. Leaving the hospital and the small apartment she shared with Jocelyn to end up in an empty house in the middle of the North Sea was almost too much.

  There was baby stuff everywhere and it made her smile. Cuddly toys and boxes of more toys, and a crib in the corner. Next to the crib she spotted a comfortable dog bed, also filled with toys. Either the dog’s or Rosie’s. Hard to tell the difference.

  She loved seeing Jack with baby Rosie. He seemed so happy, and Ninni was all she could imagine in a partner for him.

  For herself, on the other hand, she saw nothing. Not the way things were now. Staring down that edge earlier was almost as bad as staring into the abyss that was her life right now.

  ‘No, nothing like that anymore. I’m done crying and being miserable. I’m going to take a nap on that comfortable couch and then eat… something and find a bottle of wine if there is any here.’

  The little speech helped. Holly fell down on the couch and pulled with her a large, woollen blanket.

  She fell asleep in seconds.

  It was snowing. Tor looked up at the grey sky and pulled up the zipper in the heavy down jacket he wore. No matter, it will soon stop, he thought.

  Frøy waited by the door, giving him a slightly impatient look.

  ‘Yes, we are going,’ Tor said, before pulling the woollen hat over his ears, winding a scarf a few times around his neck, and finally pulling on his boots.

  He could have sworn the cat smirked at him.

  ‘We don’t all have a thick fur coat, you know,’ Tor said, opening the front door.

  Frøy was out the moment the door cracked open. Tor followed him, locking the door behind him.

  It was almost impossible to see the cat in the darkness. He blended in too easily. Tor caught his movements, but that was about it.

  Frøy kept coming back to make sure he was coming, running and skipping next to him while he walked down to the pathway.

  ‘Don’t worry. Your treats will be there. Otherwise we will go to the shop and get them tomorrow.’ He hoped not. It had been his firm policy to stay away from people as much as possible. The whole point of coming to the island was to get away from everyone, including well-meaning strangers.

  The people in the store were nice, but the small talk was hell. To avoid it, he had made arrangements to have groceries delivered. One of the kids on the island brought it twice a week. So far she had never failed him.

  Frøy disappeared again.

  When Tor caught up with him, he sat as pleased as Punch on their box. The girl had put the box on top of the fencepost and hung two carrier bags on the side.

  ‘You look like a demented hellcat,’ Tor said.

  Frøy jumped down from the box and looked at him as if to ask for his prize.

  ‘No treat until we’re back at the house,’ Tor said.

  The cat gave him a scornful look and ran towards the house.

  ‘You could carry a bag,’ Tor called after him. ‘The goddess Frøya had two cats pulling her wagon. How about I get two cats that can do that and give them all your treats?’

  I’m losing it, he thought, shaking his head. Talking to the cat. That’s the first sign. Perhaps I do need to go to the store once in a while, to talk to other humans. Perhaps I can talk to Holly again. Ask her how she’s doing, if she managed to find a new phone.

  Or perhaps I should stay inside and not bother people, he thought.

  When Holly woke up from her nap, it was dark again. She could see the windows from the sofa. There was something disturbing about not seeing daylight. How on earth did it get so dark so soon?

  Without thinking, she reached for the phone, then dropped her arm. Damn. There had to be a clock somewhere.

  She cringed when her neck felt stiff and painful. She had dreamt again, and – as always – it was about the hospital. She knew it was too early to hear from them, but the waiting was so stressful. She was officially suspended for four weeks, but that didn’t mean they would use all four weeks before they got back to her with their decision. Right now, she just wanted it to be over.

  The house was so quiet and she suddenly felt totally alone in the world. I need a shower, she thought.

  Get clean. It always helped to get clean. She dragged the suitcase upstairs and looked around. The master bedroom had room for a double bed and a baby cot next to it. It made Holly smile.

  The bathroom was between the two bedrooms, but before she went in there, she pulled the suitcase into the guest room.

  ‘Weird,’ she said when she discovered toy planes hanging from the ceiling and all the books on the shelves. She pulled one out. Hardy Boys, but in Norwegian. The books seemed used and really old.

  Twin beds in here, she noticed. Ninni had said that there were no king size or queen size in Norway, and that a double bed was twin beds. At least it’s roomy, Holly thought and sat to test the mattress.

  Nice. She quickly unpacked and headed for the shower. No fiddling with the boiler for once as there was no boiler as far as she could see.

  It was the same in the kitchen when she came back down. No boiler in sight.

  She looked at the clock on the wall and frowned. Five o’clock?

  ‘But it’s dark outside,’ she said.

  Her eyes fell on a nisse-brownie perched on the windowsill. It looked identical to the one on the stairs. Holly stared at it, not sure if it had been there before. It didn’t move, of course, and Holly shook her head.

  ‘Time to do something constructive,’ she said to the doll.

  Her stomach insisted it was time for food. Holly opened the cupboards and rifled through the amazing amount of boxes and tins more thoroughly this time. And then, in the back, triumph.

  Holly pulled out an unopened package of Jaffa cakes.

  ‘Thank you, Jack,’ she muttered.

  Stuffing a Jaffa cake in her mouth, she checked the rest. A package of Norwegian crisps looked promising. ‘Potetgull,’ she read. No idea what it meant, but there was a picture of crisps on the front.

  If I had a phone, I could translate that word, she thought.

  Sh
e also discovered a bottle of white wine in the fridge and took one of the cheese packages to taste. There was a lot of food in there, even several foil packages. Probably left by Jack, she thought. I’ll check those later.

  Holly brought the haul into the lounge, dropped it on the table and turned on the TV. They were bound to have some kind of mind-numbing movies she could binge watch and not have to think too much about anything until she got tired enough to sleep again.

  She changed channels and landed on a news channel, a Norwegian one, and found it unnerving not to understand anything they said. A cheery Christmas movie popped up and she let out a sigh of relief. She could live with that even if it had subtitles.

  Holly pulled out her computer from the bag and connected to the broadband. Ninni had said it was a mobile broadband since there was no cable on the island and that it could be temperamental.

  Working perfectly fine now, Holly thought. She checked her emails, nothing from the hospital. What if they didn’t come back to her until after Christmas? How would she cope until then?

  Better not to think too much about that. Instead she sent an email to Jocelyn, explaining her lack of mobile phone, and that she was fine. She also sent one to Jack and Ninni, asking them if they by some miracle had an extra phone in the house.

  Danny had sent her a message on Messenger. Her baby brother could always make her smile. It hadn’t always been like that. She remembered being fiercely jealous of him when he was a baby.

  ‘Good thing I outgrew that,’ she mumbled as she opened the message.

  A gif popped up, a dancing Viking making rude pelvis movements. Holly snorted. ‘You are silly,’ she wrote back, happy Danny didn’t know about Tor. He would go mental over that.

  The wine was delightful and she felt no qualms about drinking in the afternoon. It was her first holiday in… in years. She couldn’t remember the last time she didn’t have work or have to worry about exams.

  She eyed the table of snacks and popped another Jaffa cake in her mouth while opening the bag of crisps. They were salty and good. Holly sighed. Fine, then. She would just sit on this couch and eat until she couldn’t move anymore, then nothing would matter anymore.