The Darkness(26)

She climbed into the passenger seat and he switched on the ignition, then suddenly appeared to remember something. Telling her to hang on a minute, he hurried back inside, leaving the engine running. She watched him in the mirror and, when she saw him return, carrying two axes, her heart missed a beat. He shoved them in the boot and got back behind the wheel.

‘Were those … axes?’ Her voice trembled a little, though she did her best to hide the chill that had flooded her heart at the sight.

‘Sure, ice axes – one each.’

‘Why on earth do we need ice axes?’ she asked. ‘I don’t want to take any risks: I’m not used to extreme sports.’

‘Don’t worry, they’re just a precaution. It’s better to be prepared for every eventuality. It won’t be dangerous, just an adventure.’

Just an adventure.





XI


Hulda had a clear memory of the day Jón died.

She had been working late, as she often did, looking into a violent attack in the centre of Reykjavík. She wasn’t officially in charge of the case, but she had borne most of the weight of the investigation. Incidents like this were fairly frequent at weekends, when the bars were open until late. When they closed, everyone poured out into the streets, creating a carnival atmosphere every Friday and Saturday night. With so many people drunk, the police often had to intervene, and sometimes the cases were serious, leading to formal charges.

It was a Thursday, and Hulda had spent the week interviewing witnesses and trying to establish who had attacked the young man in question, who was still in hospital.

It was nearly midnight when she got back to their house on álftanes.

A house, but no longer a home.

The couple hardly spoke to each other any more.

Everything about the house felt cold and bleak, from the trees outside to the atmosphere indoors, the furniture, even the bed. She and Jón no longer shared a room.

She came in to find Jón lying on the living-room floor, so very still, so very dead.

When, in due course, the ambulance arrived, the paramedics had pretended at first that something could be done, trotting out meaningless phrases in an attempt to comfort her, but of course it was too late. He had passed away earlier that day.

‘He had a heart condition,’ was all Hulda had said. Two colleagues from the police arrived at the scene, young men. She knew them both, though they weren’t friends. She didn’t have any friends in the police. She had gone to the hospital in the ambulance, staying close by Jón’s side.

Since that evening, she had been alone in the world.





XII


She wasn’t entirely sure why he had invited her on this trip.

Most of the time he was nice, though there was an intensity about him that made her a little uncomfortable. But he had told her they were friends, and she could really use a friend in this strange country.

She had the feeling he wanted more than just friendship, though; that he harboured stronger feelings for her, but she knew that nothing would ever happen between them.

She had almost turned down his invitation to go on a trip out of town, but decided in the end to embrace this chance to enjoy life a little. She was fairly confident he wouldn’t make a move; tried to convince herself he was simply doing her a favour.

After all, what was the worst that could happen?





XIII


The mother had lost her job, not that this should have come as any surprise. Her boss had been dubious about her being a single mother from the first, telling her bluntly that he preferred to employ childless women: they were more reliable and could keep their mind on the job.

Then, one day, he informed her that she needn’t bother coming in the next day. She protested that she had a right to a longer period of notice, but he disputed this, denying that he owed her a króna more than he’d already paid her. The following days had been a nightmare, as her worries had proved infectious, making her daughter even more fractious than usual. She calculated how long they could survive on her small pot of savings, how long they’d have enough to eat, how long it would be before they were thrown out of the flat she was renting. The answers didn’t look good, however many times she did the sums.

Which was how she ended up swallowing her pride and moving back in with her parents, this time with their grandchild in tow. The old couple quickly came to dote on the child, though their behaviour towards their daughter was cold to begin with. The little girl grew especially close to her grandfather, who would read to her and play with her, but it was as if this caused the fragile bond between mother and daughter to fray, to slowly unravel, until the terrible day when her daughter stopped calling her Mamma.





XIV


It was still fairly light when they set off. Once they had left town, the traffic thinned out until, eventually, they turned off on to a sideroad that appeared to be little used. A chain with a sign in the middle had been strung across it, as if to block it off to vehicles.

She turned to look at him and asked if the road was closed.

Nodding, he swung the wheel, swerving off the road then back on to it, on the other side of the chain.

‘Is it safe?’ she asked nervously. ‘Are we allowed to drive on it if it’s closed?’

He replied that the road wasn’t exactly closed; the sign was just there as a warning that it was impassable.