Page 51 of Meet Me Under the Northern Lights

KERID CRATER

Gunnar knew something was wrong. Not only because of his sense of sense, but because he had known Chloe long enough now to interpret her body language and read her signs.

It was happening all over again and he hadn’t even explained about Magnús and Hildur.

When she had got back from the bathroom she had turned their conversation very much into tourist mode.

He gave her information on the geysers, she took photos and videos and asked questions relating to her event-planning.

It wasn’t like it had been between them and it was hard to re-imagine how close they had been just the other night under the stars…

Now they were standing above this large volcanic crater lake made up of red volcanic rock and Chloe was snapping more photos and saying very little.

‘So, this crater is not very old,’ Gunnar said, moving alongside her.

‘Really?’

‘Yes. Only six thousand five hundred years.’

‘That sounds old to me,’ Chloe replied.

‘But not when you consider how old the Earth is: over four point five billion years. If you believe science that is. The Bible would suggest that all the Earth is only as old as this crater but how reliable is a book that suggests that water can be turned into a wine and a baby can be born like magic.’

‘Well,’ Chloe said, turning away from the crater view to face him. ‘Many people do believe that book. And Christmas will be here soon, the season celebrating the birth of the book’s magic baby.’

‘You are angry, krúttio mitt . Did I do something?’

Chloe sighed. ‘I’m not angry.’

‘Come on,’ Gunnar said with a tut of frustration. ‘We know each other a little now, no? I can tell that something is inside you and you want to shout it at me, but you are holding it back.’

She shook her head, but he knew she was lying. It was obvious and written right the way through her body language.

‘OK,’ Gunnar said. ‘So, do not shout it at me. But why not shout it into the crater.’

‘What?’

‘Come,’ he said. ‘We will go down, close to the water’s edge, into the crater and you will shout whatever you are angry at into its core.

Maybe this will be perfect for your event.

Your guests can shout celebratory messages across the water by candlelight or maybe something like…

moments of truths. Reflection about the ten years that has passed for this company, the challenges they have overcome and plans for the future. Maybe a local choir can sing.’

‘Are you taking the piss?’ Chloe asked, hands on hips.

‘What?’

‘Making fun of me and the ideas I have? Like they’re stupid.’

‘No!’ Gunnar exclaimed. ‘No, I was being serious. It was something I used to do with my mother. Please, let us go down to the water’s edge.’

He held out his hand and wondered if she would take it, or whether he might never get to touch her again.

‘OK,’ she said, walking past him towards the trail.

Maybe he had his answer.

* * *

Chloe was unfocussed and that was the very opposite of what she wanted to be.

This trip today had meant to be about her new vision for the Sinclairz Chairs event, but she had also wanted to take the chance and tell Gunnar her truth.

But how could she now when the very reason that his relationship ended with Kirstin was because Kirstin didn’t see children in her future.

Chloe didn’t just not see them in her future, she could not have them!

This was the aged-however-old-the-universe-actually-was kicking her when she was already lying at the bottom of a crater.

But it was spectacular down here at the water’s edge though, staring up at the red rock interspersed with vegetation covered in an icy sheen. Whether Gunnar had been serious or not, she could really envisage a choir and candlelight.

‘The lake is partially frozen now,’ Gunnar said, alongside her.

‘When it is even colder and frozen harder, people will ice skate. You know, some people will probably try to ice skate now but that is crazy and could lead to death so we will not do that and I suggest that you do not add ice skating here to your event plans.’

One thing she couldn’t see was Lincoln Sinclair in ice skates.

‘So, if we shout something it will echo around here?’ Chloe asked.

‘You do not trust your tour guide?’ Gunnar queried.

She wanted to trust him. She hadn’t known him very long but the quality of their connection, the sizzling undertones and the almost soulful way their minds intertwined had begged her to carry on leaning into it. What had changed? Had anything?

‘OK,’ Gunnar said. ‘Do not answer that. I will go first. To put you at ease.’

He cleared his throat and then put his hands either side of his mouth and shouted into the crater’s centre.

‘ Huldufólk !’

It bounced back hard, echoing eerily and Chloe couldn’t help but laugh at his word choice.

‘What is so funny?’ he asked her, smiling with his gorgeous eyes as well as his mouth.

‘That you chose to shout something that you said you don’t believe in.’

‘It could have been worse,’ Gunnar said. ‘I could have shouted Santa Claus.’

Chloe gasped. ‘You don’t believe in him either?’

‘In Iceland we have something a little different. We have the thirteen Yule Lads.’

‘What?’

‘They are characters that live in the mountains, in caves, that come to town at Christmas time to make mischief. In some stories they eat children and you will tell these stories so the children will have good behaviour before Christmas time. In other tales the lads just leave presents for people; these are sometimes nice and sometimes potatoes in their shoes.’

‘Are you joking with me?’ Chloe asked him.

He laughed. ‘No, krúttio mitt . I mean, I do not know if the stories are truth at all, they are Icelandic fairy tales, but these are not made by my mind.’

She knew one story that was truth. Sad truth. Her lack of fertility reality. Maybe this was the time.

‘If you like potatoes,’ Gunnar said as Chloe moved a little closer to the water’s edge. ‘I guess finding them in your shoes is a good gift.’

She wasn’t really listening to him now. She breathed the freezing air in deep and shuddered. It was like her body and her mind were both begging for some kind of release.

‘You are ready to shout your truth into the crater?’ Gunnar asked.

She sensed him standing behind her now, not touching her but close enough to make a connection if she wanted it.

She had wanted it. Felt that giddy, excited churning inside when she was with him.

Maybe just experiencing those kinds of feelings for someone again was enough, to restore her faith that life might not only contain career climbing, that there was a chance for something else.

‘I’m ready,’ Chloe said, teeth juddering.

With the deepest of inhales, as she closed her eyes tight, she shouted into the volcano, to the Earth and up high to the sky with every ounce of hurt and grief, but, most of all, with powerful acceptance.

‘I CAN’T HAVE CHILDREN!’

And as her words echoed back at her, she snapped open her eyes, heart pumping, body re-awakening.

Something in the universe felt like it had shifted, akin to the tectonic plates that had created this place.

She listened to the reverberation of her words, felt it on the surface of her skin, then, determinedly, she let it sink in, almost welcoming the final acceptance of this reality.

Then, when all was still again, when the only sound she could hear was the whistle of the wind above her own thudding heartbeat, she turned around and looked at Gunnar.

He had never looked more handsome to her than at this moment.

That tall frame, so solid, those astonishing eyes fixed on her, unmoving, unperturbed but definitely absorbing.

Usually now would be the time she would drop her eyes, or feel some kind of embarrassment for publicly admitting something so personal in such a way, but not today. Today she was owning this moment.

And then Gunnar did move. He wrapped his arms around her and he picked her up off the ground like she was weightless, holding her tight against him as if he wanted to transmit all that he had to her – strength, resilience, energy.

Chloe closed her eyes and breathed him in, feeling like she was an over-emotional monkey clinging to a tree.

‘I am here, krúttio mitt ,’ Gunnar whispered in her ear. ‘Please know this. Feel this.’

She did feel it. And she so, so wanted to believe it.