Page 34 of Meet Me Under the Northern Lights
THE SUN VOYAGER SCULPTURE, REYKJAVIK
This gleaming sculpture that resembled a Viking long ship was something Chloe was definitely putting on the list for the Sinclairz Chairs event.
With its sleek, long metal body and prongs reaching for the sky it was even more beautiful against a fresh, cold, clear mountain backdrop at the waterfront.
It was apparently an ode to the sun representing a dream of hope, progress and discovery.
And that was exactly what Chloe was aiming to get from this request. When she had the guts to call Gunnar’s number.
What was she waiting for? A cosmic sign?
The huldufólk to tell her it was OK? She pressed dial and eventually…
‘ Halló .’
‘Oh, Gunnar, it’s Chloe.’
‘I know,’ Gunnar answered. ‘Your name comes up on the screen of my phone.’
She was stupid. ‘Oh, yes, of course.’ She cringed at her own voice sounding so pathetic. But she was desperate for his help.
‘You are OK?’ he asked. ‘It sounds like you are by the sea.’
How did he know that? ‘Um, yes, I am actually.’
‘I think it sounds very much like you are next to the Sun Voyager sculpture.’
What? Now this was crazy! ‘I don’t know how you know that.’
He laughed then, the sound that somehow made her feel a whole lot lighter inside every time. Then he replied. ‘I can see you. I had to start work later, I am in the office for the boat tours the rest of today. The building just to your left.’
She turned a little, the phone pressed to her ear, searching. Then she saw a figure in the window. A figure who was waving. She raised a hand, waved back.
‘I do not know who you are waving at,’ Gunnar told her.
‘What?’ Chloe exclaimed, dropping her hand.
‘I am joking with you, krúttio mitt . It was me.’
‘Oh. OK. Sorry.’
‘Something is wrong? Tell me.’
She swallowed. It was time to ask. Beg if she had to. It was either that or she was in danger of losing this precious potentially business-changing opportunity. Say the words.
‘I need your help.’ It came out grated, unfamiliar, almost painful.
‘Tell me,’ he said straight away.
It was like those two words had opened the flood gates to all the emotion she was holding in. She released it in a visible rush of cold air. ‘I need you to speak Icelandic for me.’
‘O-K.’
‘And lie for me,’ Chloe added.
She looked at the window of the building Gunnar was standing in. She couldn’t see his face, only the outline of him, but she could only imagine what he must be thinking.
‘I know how that sounds,’ Chloe carried on. ‘It sounds terrible and pathetic and deceitful and I’m not usually this kind of person but?—’
‘Will the lying involve me getting a criminal record?’ Gunnar asked her.
‘No.’
‘And no one dies?’
‘The only thing that might die is my career.’
‘And we should not make Iceland the place where this happens. Very bad for the tourist board.’
‘I have to meet someone from the company I am planning the event for and she thinks I speak Icelandic and it’s too late for me to confess that I don’t speak the language and if I tell her then my boss, who has probably sold the fact she thinks I speak Icelandic like it’s the ability to turn water into wine, will fire me or at the very least she will question everything I’ve ever told her and I really really need her to trust me right now so I can further my career because my career is honestly all I have. ’
She was out of breath now, almost panting into the freezing air, looking out to sea, trying desperately either to ground her thoughts or let them sail out into the ocean and away.
‘Chloe,’ Gunnar said, his voice drawing her back to the conversation.
‘Yes?’
‘Look at the window, krúttio mitt .’
Chloe turned back to the building, seeking out the space Gunnar had been in. Where was he? And then she saw there was a large white square filling one of the windows.
‘Do you see? Can you read it?’
She nodded, the phone pressed against her ear as she said the message written on it out loud. ‘Yes.’
‘Just tell me when,’ he said.
And, suddenly, what had been terrifying her so much didn’t feel quite so frightening.