Page 4 of Meet Me Under the Northern Lights

REYKJAVIK AIRPORT, ICELAND

She stopped wheeling her case, put the coats down on top and stood next to a sign that said ‘Exit to Iceland’. She checked her phone. Signal. At last. And three missed calls from Michelle. She didn’t waste time checking any other notifications, she called her boss.

‘Hello.’

‘Michelle, I?—’

‘Sorry, this is Gretchen. Michelle cannot come to the phone right now. She is under blanket.’

‘What?’ Chloe asked. What did that mean? And was ‘under blanket’ some maternity terminology she wasn’t familiar with?

There was some background noise, shuffling, grumbling, then a shriek until…

‘Chloe? Is that you?’

Michelle.

‘Yes, I?—’

‘I thought a pregnancy massage would be relaxing, but Gretchen has me trapped under a blanket like she’s a kidnapper and I need Liam Neeson on speed-dial. It’s traumatic rather than therapeutic and she hasn’t even touched me yet!’

‘Deep breaths, remember. For stress. Panting for when the time comes.’

‘I’ll be panting before that if she doesn’t turn the heating down in here! But, give me good news. Are you there yet?’

Chloe looked around at the walkways of Reykjavik airport – soft glittering festive lights and the frantic bustle of travel co-existing. ‘Yes. I’m here. The plane was on time and everything was OK and?—’

‘OK great! So that’s the good news! The bad news is… I haven’t been able to book you a hotel.’

Chloe’s stomach dropped. In an unfamiliar country, no idea where she was going or what she was doing, it was definitely bad news. What did she do now?

‘But there were a couple of places on Airbnb when I looked earlier, I just didn’t have time to finish before this torture appointment and I thought, with your knowledge of the local language, you’d be better off booking yourself.’

Chloe closed her eyes and breathed deep.

Why, oh why, had she ever agreed to embellishing her CV with that statement about speaking Icelandic?

! And why was it coming back to bite her in the arse when she really needed to stay on top of her professional game to prove to Michelle she was more than capable partner-material.

But, thinking again, what better way to prove her prowess by taking this on the chin and making it work. She needed to keep her tone buoyant.

‘Not a problem.’

‘I know it’s not a problem, Chloe,’ Michelle said straight back. ‘Because you’re the best employee I’ve ever had. You’re 100 per cent reliable. Unlike the contraception that got me into this situation.’

Being likened to a pregnancy wasn’t quite giving the ‘take a stake in the business’ vibes she’d been hoping for. Still…

‘And I need to land this Sinclairz Chairs event and for it then to be the best event we’ve ever handled. Better than that actually! Because this could elevate us so significantly people could be saying Celebratey in the same breath as Dress Code.’

Dress Code was one of the biggest event management companies in London and Chloe knew that was Michelle’s ultimate aim – growth in all areas and having Celebratey be the go-to for VIPs planning any kind of party. And the first step towards that was apparently on her shoulders.

‘No worries,’ Chloe said, moving her actual shoulders a little and wondering if she should get her laptop out here and now and reserve an Airbnb or wait until she was on a transfer bus Michelle had booked her on and use that time.

‘I have no worries about you excelling, Chloe. What I do have plenty of worries about are my pelvic floor collapsing or dehydrating under this heated blanket.’

‘Well, at least you know Iceland is safe in my hands.’ Why had she said that?

‘Aww, say that again but in Icelandic. I want to hear your accent.’

Chloe felt like her heart had stopped and all the blood rushed to her head.

What?! Help! She was torn between making fake noises and pretending the connection was bad and just hanging up.

Could she do that? Could she just hang up, pretend the call had been severed by technology? An airport announcement saved her.

‘Oh, Michelle, that means my bus is going to leave soon. I have to go. I’ll call you later. Enjoy the blanket.’ She ended the call and pocketed her phone. Where did these buses depart from?

* * *

‘Please, Erik. You know I would not ask if it was not an emergency.’

Gunnar was one beat away from grabbing his boss, Erik’s jacket and making him pay more attention to him than the pastry he had in his hand and was stuffing into his face.

‘This is so good.’ He smacked his lips.

‘Erik! Listen to me! Hildur is at the hospital. I cannot drive the south coast tour today. Let me take the airport shuttles. Thor is OK with changing.’

‘Thor does not have the same quality of reviews as you do, Gunnar.’ More teeth were sunk into the food, steam rising from his hot breath.

‘I know,’ Gunnar said. ‘But it’s one day. I have to go back to the hospital before five.’

‘The hospital closes at five?’

Gunnar shook his head. ‘No, but?—’

‘Then there is no problem.’ Erik went to turn away and that’s when Gunnar reached out, but not for the jacket, for the pastry. He snatched it from his boss’s hand and held it hostage in the air.

‘Gunnar! Give that to me!’

‘No. Not until you agree to give me the airport runs today. One day, Erik. I have never asked before and it is highly unlikely that I will ever ask again… maybe. And this is Hildur. Hildur who makes you soup for your birthday every year and?—’

‘Gunnar! I have a business to run. I need the best tour guide on the most expensive tours, you know this and?—’

‘One day, Erik! One tour! So I can collect Hildur from the hospital where hopefully she will not be coming out in a wheelchair or in a cast!’

A flat heavy hand came down on Gunnar’s shoulder and a smiling Thor appeared over his shoulder.

‘I am on Bus 101,’ Thor said. ‘I have not done this for so long. It is a Christmas gift from you, Gunnar.’

‘See, Erik,’ Gunnar continued. ‘Everything is set. Thor is happier than I have seen him in months and as soon as you nod you can have your pastry back.’

‘This is not in my planner for today!’ Erik moaned, leaping a little for the pastry.

‘Plans change, Erik. That is the nature of life.’ Gunnar swallowed. ‘And you know we cannot interfere with the nature of life. That would be going against the huldúfolk .’

‘Sshh!’ Erik exclaimed, hands over his ears. ‘Do not talk about the huldúfolk .’

‘I need to go to my bus now, yes?’ Thor said, still all grins.

‘Yes,’ Gunnar said. ‘You go now, Thor.’

‘I have not said yes!’ Erik exclaimed.

‘ Huldúfolk ! Huldúfolk !’ Gunnar chanted.

‘Stop!’

‘I will take care of everyone on the airport shuttles. I will even be nice to the annoying ones with their bags that are too large and the ones with all the questions when it is so early.’

‘Give me my pastry! Thor is already on your bus, so I guess I have no choice.’

‘There is always a choice, Erik. But, know you made the right one.’ Gunnar handed him the pastry.

‘And you have done a good deed for Hildur. I will be sure to tell her!’ He was backing away before Erik decided to fire him.

Although, with tourists here for the ultimate Icelandic winter experience in the run up to Christmas, he very much doubted his boss could afford to do that.

‘And I will take the greatest care as always. I will not be too heavy on the brakes even when the tourists stand up when they are not meant to. I will treat them like they are porcelain. Or large boxes of fragile eggs. Nothing broken or even cracked.’

‘Erik! There is a problem with this bus.’

The shout from another driver had his boss distracted and Erik turned away, going towards the next morning crisis.

Satisfied he was in the clear for this shift change, Gunnar whipped around, and that’s when the collision happened…