Christmas Island Read online

  He pulled away, annoyed with himself. I’m not a peeping Tom, he thought. Sneaking around, lurking at strange women wasn’t what he did. This was stupid and immature.

  He decided quickly and stood from the hiding place.

  The only one he saw was Frøy who ignored him and kept washing his paws. There was no sign of Holly.

  Frøy suddenly started walking away from him with his tale looking like a fluffy flagpole.

  Tor hesitated for a second, then followed him.

  Holly climbed carefully down the slope to the beach. It was muddy and slippery, and she didn’t fancy ending up in a gooey heap at the bottom.

  She was pretty sure she could follow the shoreline back towards Jack’s farm and the house. At least she hoped so.

  The wind was even stronger down here. She pulled the hat further down over her ears and pulled up the collar. Next time a scarf would be a good idea and a pair of those mittens she had ignored earlier.

  Walking along the shore quickly turned out to be a monumentally bad idea. There was no place to climb up again. It was all sharp-edged stones and a lot more difficult to climb than she had anticipated.

  ‘Why the hell don’t they make a pathway for normal people to use?’ she said aloud, while trying to climb over a boulder larger than herself. She tried to walk around it, but it jutted out into the water and she was not in the mood for a swim.

  The stone was wet and covered in a thin layer of some kind of moss, making it slippery.

  She was halfway over when her boot slipped and she fell. She tried to grab hold, but there was nothing to grab onto, and she tumbled down back on the beach.

  ‘Fuck.’ Holly tried to stand, but slipped again. ‘Fuckety fuck,’ she said.

  She realised her knee hurt and found blood and a tear in the jeans. Holly sighed. If this continues, I’ll be so out of fucks, she thought. Before I do anything, I have to clean this. God knows what kind of bacteria will be in the mossy thing, was her next thought.

  She took off the backpack and dug through it for the wipes and the bottle of water she always carried. No Band-Aids, she thought. My standards must be slipping.

  She looked at the tear. Damn, these were expensive jeans. She couldn’t bear to tear them even more.

  Holly looked around, and then up, and couldn’t see anyone. To hell with modesty. This was an emergency.

  She turned around and pulled down her jeans. It was bloody freezing, but at least the jeans would be saved. She started to wipe off the blood to inspect how bad it was.

  Tor stopped so abruptly, Frøy bumped into his feet and gave him a disgruntled look.

  What the hell was she doing?

  She was bending down, looking at something, with her jeans around her ankles.

  He held his breath for a long second, then realised he was acting like a real peeping Tom this time and took a step to the side, only to step on Frøy who let out a blood-curling scream and scratched his ankles.

  It felt like slow-motion. Tor watched Holly turn, stumble in her own jeans and fall forward on her face. Tor couldn’t move. This was a situation where he had no idea what to do.

  She lifted her head. ‘Are you fucking insane? What’s wrong with you?’

  Tor hesitated. She clearly wasn’t asking Frøy and he wondered if the best thing he could do was to retreat and run up the hill.

  But watching her struggle to get up, hindered by the jeans that were still around her ankles, he had no choice.

  ‘Uhm, do you need any help?’ He walked towards her, shielding his eyes so she wouldn’t think he was staring at her bum.

  ‘You think?’ She gave him a scorching look, much like the one Frøy often used. ‘If I’ve broken anything, I’ll sue you for damages.’

  Tor sat in front of her. ‘I have no money, so good luck with that. Here, take my hand.’

  She huffed, but allowed him to pull her up.

  ‘You’re bleeding,’ he said when she stood. ‘I’m sorry. I saw you, and when I tried to leave, I stepped on Frøy’s tale.’

  ‘You didn’t cause this. I fell from the boulder and scraped my knee.’ Holly sighed.

  ‘So, you were checking the wound when I stepped on Frøy?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, I don’t usually drop my pants in public and bend over. Especially when it’s also freezing like this,’ she said.

  Tor frowned. ‘Of course. Sorry.’

  Holly raised her eyebrows. ‘Would you mind turning around? I realise it’s a bit late, but still. If you please.’

  Tor turned around at once, feeling even more like a pervert than before. ‘How… how did you end up down here?’ he said after a while.

  ‘I followed the slope. I thought that I could walk back along the beach and that there would be some kind of pathway,’ Holly said.

  ‘No, we don’t have anything like that, I’m afraid. When you’re a stranger, sticking to the more regular paths is the best choice.’

  ‘You sound like a traffic warden. And why can’t I explore? If it’s dangerous for people to walk along here it should be fenced off.’

  ‘The islanders know everything about the island and don’t need fences. In fact, you are in a country where we have a world famous mountain cliff with no fences or protective barriers at all. We trust people to be sensible. And also, there’s no shame in turning back,’ he said.

  Holly walked up to him, fully clothed again, he noticed.

  ‘Why should there be any shame in turning back?’ she said.

  ‘There isn’t. That’s the whole point. If you come to a boulder like this or some kind of hindrance that could potentially be dangerous, you either walk around it, or you walk back the same way you came. You don’t risk getting hurt.’

  Holly looked at him. ‘Are all Norwegians like you?’

  ‘Like what?’ Tor frowned.

  ‘Like you have a long, logical explanation for everything. You did the same thing when you saved me from the cliff,’ Holly said.

  Tor wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He wasn’t sure if it was bad or good. ‘Uhm. I don’t think so,’ he finally said.

  ‘Never mind. Does it mean I have to go back up the same way? Is that even possible?’ Holly said.

  ‘Yes, and I’m afraid so.’

  Holly sighed. ‘Why are you down here? You must know that there’s no path here.’

  Tor had no idea what to say at first. ‘Uhm,’ he said. ‘Oh, I followed Frøy. He’s the one who found you.’

  ‘Again? I now owe Frøy at least one can of tuna.’

  Frøy suddenly showed up and plunked himself on Holly’s boots. She bent down and stroked him. Traitor, Tor thought and scowled at the cat.

  ‘You must really have hit a sore point on his tail.’ Holly looked up at him.

  ‘I did, and now he’s mad at me, as you can see,’ Tor said.

  Frøy rolled around, letting Holly scratch his belly.

  ‘He’ll forgive you,’ Holly said.

  ‘Not so sure about that. Last time he got mad, he ignored me for a week. Look.’

  Tor bent down to pet Frøy who immediately rolled away from him, jumped up and ran ahead of them.

  Holly laughed. ‘I see what you mean. Poor you.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll have to get more treats for him now, I guess.’

  They walked slowly back the way they came and when Holly looked up the slope, she frowned. ‘Are you sure that’s the only way up?’

  ‘Unless you want to swim. The water is probably three or four degrees. Celsius, that is. I have no idea what that is in Fahrenheit. You’ll get hypothermia before you get past that headland you were attempting to climb,’ he said and frowned when she burst out laughing.

  Tor waited until she stopped. He could not see the humour in what he had said. It was necessary information, so why was she laughing?

  Holly could see he had no idea why she laughed and that made it even funnier. She pulled herself together in case he would be insulted.

  ‘Okay, so where’s the ea
siest path up?’ she asked, looking up at the slope that now looked more like the side of the Matterhorn than the easy hill she had come down.

  ‘Put your feet where the rocks are,’ Tor said and pointed. ‘You go first, and then, if you fall, I’ll catch you.’

  She smiled at him. ‘And who will catch you if you fall?’

  ‘As long as I don’t fall on Frøy, I’ll be fine,’ he said and smiled back.

  Holly quickly looked down to hide her surprise. His whole disposition changed, even through the beard.

  ‘Right. I’ll go then,’ she said, sounding a lot more confident than she was.

  Walking upwards was hard. It strained her ankles and thighs, and the aching knee didn’t exactly help either.

  And she also knew that if she fell and he had to catch her, she would die from embarrassment before either of them could plunge to their death.

  As if to demonstrate how easy it was, Frøy scooted past her and ran straight up, then stopped at the top to look at her.

  ‘I think your cat is laughing at me,’ she said to Tor, panting as she climbed.

  ‘You’re probably right. He does that a lot. He’s very judgemental of humans, I’m afraid.’ Tor didn’t sound out of breath at all.

  Holly looked down. He seemed to have no trouble climbing up the slope.

  For a second she could see herself falling down, into his arms. He would save her, again, and they would gaze into each other’s eyes and… and then they would tumble down, ending up at the bottom with their necks broken.

  Get a grip, Holly.

  Chapter Eight

  Leaving the house after lunch the day after the knee incident, Holly was determined not to be saved by Tor and Frøy again. She would take a look at Jack’s farm and then perhaps visit the shop. And she wouldn’t go anywhere near Tor and Frøy’s house.

  She had found Band-Aids aplenty at the house, most of them colourful and clearly meant for Rosie, but they did the job. The knee was a bit stiff, but nothing to worry about.

  The key to the main house was easy to find. Jack had put a little note on it that said “farm”. She stuffed the key in one of her pockets.

  Jack wouldn’t mind if she had a look.

  Not like I care if he does, she thought. It’s his fault that I’m here. Jack had told her there was a pay as you go phone in a drawer, thanks to their dad, and armed with that, she headed outside. The phone was barely useful for texting and had absolutely no internet or even a camera, but it was working. It would do until she could get into town.

  The farm had its own beach. How insane was that. Right now it looked grey and bleak, reminding her of all those Scandinavian crime series. But she had seen pictures from when the field was green and filled with wildflowers, and loads of people swimming in the clear, blue water.

  ‘Bet it’s freezing now like Tor said,’ she muttered.

  She also remembered Jack telling her about the boathouses. Ninni’s was on one side of the path, his on the other. Apparently there were row boats in both of them.

  ‘Trust me to come when the weather is awful and freezing,’ she muttered.

  Holly found her way down to the yard in front of the white house. The farm looked smaller than it had done in her head. There was the weird house on stilts; Jack loved raving about all the cured meat stored in there.

  I’m not going in there to look at meat, Holly thought.

  All she wanted was to try to understand Jack’s fascination with this island. It was so strange that he had a whole new life, one that had nothing to do with any of them back home.

  The key fitted in the outer door of the white house. Holly pushed it open and went inside. It seemed weird to go into an empty house like that. Just a quick look, and I’m out of here, she thought.

  Everything was old and outdated. The furniture seemed worn down and ancient. She wrinkled her nose. Everything was dusty and in serious need of a good scrubbing down.

  Holly decided not to go upstairs. It was too much of a ghost house.

  She texted Jack.

  Your farm is weird.

  It took a few seconds before he replied.

  I know. There are ghosts in there.

  * * *

  Shut up. There’s no such thing.

  * * *

  Really creepy Norwegian ghosts of dead fishermen climbing back on land. They’re called ‘draug’.

  Holly looked around. Something called draug, didn’t sound nice at all. Shut up, she texted again.

  He called then and Holly could hear him laughing.

  ‘You are such a tit,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t forget I spent the first night on the island sleeping in the garden,’ he said.

  He had sworn her to secrecy when he confessed to that little embarrassment.

  ‘I’m not sleeping here. I just wanted to see your house. How are Ninni and Rosie?’

  ‘Rosie has decided that sleep is for losers and keeps us up every bloody night. Ninni is so sleep-deprived she makes no sense most of the time.’

  ‘You sound happy,’ Holly said, smiling as she said it.

  ‘Of course I’m happy. Being a dad is scary and exhausting, and I’m loving every minute. Of course, it helps to love the tired mum as well.’

  ‘Good for you. When are you coming back?’ Holly looked out of the windows in the lounge. The view was stunning. ‘I think I can see your goat island from here.’

  ‘No, you can’t. The islet is a lot further out than you think and also, they’re sheep. We’re coming back soon, long before Christmas, you know that. Ninni’s mum is besotted with Rosie and keeps trying to get us to stay for the holidays though. It’s getting on Ninni’s nerves.’

  ‘Well, maybe that’s why the baby isn’t sleeping. She’s stressed.’ Holly dropped the flimsy curtain and turned to leave the house.

  A tall, burly man stood in the doorway, glaring at her.

  Holly shrieked and dropped the phone.

  Frøy was still ignoring him. He had found a spot in the window where he could enjoy the sunshine and ignore him at the same time.

  Sneaky bastard, Tor thought.

  He felt restless and slightly annoyed, despite spending two hours in the boat. And it was her fault. Why would a woman he had met and talked to twice have any kind of effect on him?

  But here he was, thinking about Holly when he was supposed to be working.

  There was something about her. She seemed happy enough, but she was also sad. Something was bothering her.

  Tor went into the kitchen and put on the coffee machine. He glanced at the papers on the kitchen table. There wasn’t much to hold his interest at the moment.

  A nap might be the best option, or the book he hadn’t finished.

  Frøy appeared behind him. He flicked his tail back and forth while glaring at Tor.

  ‘Yeah, I’m not giving you a treat. You’re still mad at me for the tail. It was an accident,’ Tor said.

  The cat never begged for food. All he did was sit there.

  Tor shook his head. ‘I’m to blame, Frøy.’

  Time to make peace with the cat, the only company he had at the moment. He took a piece of dried fish from the cupboard and dropped it on the floor.

  Frøy tapped the fish with one paw, almost like he was checking the “best before” date. Then he snapped it and swallowed in two seconds before leaving.

  ‘I guess you’re too cool to chew,’ Tor said.

  He filled a thermos with the coffee, picked up the papers from the table, and walked up to the office again, determined to focus on buildings and not think about attractive sad women.

  The big man stared at Holly with pure terror written on his face. He lifted his hands in front of him. ‘Unnskyld,’ he said.

  Holly took a deep breath. ‘I have no idea what you just said.’

  ‘Oh. I saw the door was open and I became worried. It’s always locked.’

  Holly picked up the mobile from the floor. Jack was still there. ‘I’m fine,’ she sai
d. ‘Some man came in and scared the… scared me.’

  She looked at the man who now looked mortified. ‘I don’t know who he is.’

  ‘I’m Tobben. I work with Jack,’ he said.

  Holly smiled at him. ‘It’s Tobben, Jack.’

  He made her laugh before saying goodbye, and she put the phone in her pocket. ‘He says you’re okay.’

  Tobben visibly relaxed. ‘Oh. Yes, I own the meat production business together with Jack and some other islanders. Did you know he’s planning to open a restaurant here next summer?’

  ‘Yes, he’s mentioned it a few times.’ About a million times, Holly thought.

  ‘He’s a bit mad, isn’t he?’ Tobben shuffled his feet a few times. ‘Well. Uhm. I’ll be going out again now. Sorry I frightened you.’

  He turned around and disappeared, surprisingly quiet for a big man.

  Holly shook her head. Jack had said the islanders were charming. So far, they had mostly been weird.

  She waited for a couple of minutes before going outside herself. There was no sign of Tobben.

  Holly stood still, not sure where she’d go next. It was all so quiet everywhere. How did they manage with all this silence? She was used to getting out of bed by six in the morning, and working ten to twelve hour shifts, surrounded by doctors, nurses, paramedics, patients, and all the rest of the people that made up a hospital. There was hardly a quiet moment anywhere.

  Here the sky seemed endless. She could see trail from aeroplanes flying overhead, heading for the little airport where she had landed.

  She sighed. At least Jack had been able to swim in the ocean when he first came to the island. Now it was too bloody cold.

  Even so, she went down to the beach, walking between the two boathouses. Both houses had small, wooden piers sticking out into the water. Holly sat on the edge of one and looked down. The water was surprisingly clear and she could see all the way to the bottom.

  ‘Fish,’ she said when she discovered a small shoal swimming in between the seaweed. ‘Itty, bitty, tiny fish.’