Page 58 of Meet Me Under the Northern Lights

MAGNúS’S SCHOOL, REYKJAVIK

Gunnar stood outside the school hall, looking through the small window in the door.

Everything was dressed for Christmas now – a large tree by the stage, glittering in silver and white, tinsel and garlands hanging from the ceiling.

It brought back memories of his childhood, but not only that one terrible night when he’d found out his father had died; now it evoked good thoughts, the remembered joy in simple pleasures.

And there was Magnús on stage, in a puffin costume, flapping his arms and strutting in quite an accurate representation of how the bird moved.

‘Mr Eriksson.’

Gunnar turned around and there was Mr Almr. ‘ Halló ,’ he greeted. ‘Is everything OK?’

‘Please,’ Mr Almr said. ‘I think that is what I should be asking of you. How is Hildur?’

‘Hildur is a force of nature stronger than an Icelandic storm,’ Gunnar told him. ‘Keeping her still to rest is not a job for those faint of heart.’

‘I understand,’ Mr Almr said. ‘I have a mother exactly the same.’ He smiled, tucking the files of paperwork he was holding under his arm. ‘I just wanted to let you know that Brigitta Lundgren will be leaving the school.’

‘Oh?’ Gunnar said, surprised.

‘Her parents have decided she would be better suited to a private education.’

‘Mr Almr, whatever has happened with Magnús, it was not our intention for her to feel excluded,’ Gunnar said. ‘Only for people to understand that everybody deserves to come to school and feel safe and an equal part of the community.’

‘I know,’ Mr Almr stated quickly. ‘I am sure recent events have steered the Lundgrens into making this decision now, but I feel this was something they had considered before.’

‘Does Magnús know this?’ Gunnar asked him.

‘No one knows yet and I would appreciate it if you kept this information to yourself for now. I just thought it might help settle Magnús maybe?’

Gunnar nodded. ‘Thank you.’

Suddenly Magnús burst through the door, out of the puffin costume now, backpack hanging off one arm.

‘Hey,’ Gunnar greeted. ‘Slow down.’

‘I cannot slow down,’ Magnús answered. ‘I forgot some of the dance tonight and I need to get home to practice.’

‘OK,’ Gunnar said, waving a hand at Mr Almr. ‘Let’s get in the truck.’

Magnús ran for the door.

Inside the truck, with the heating turned up, Gunnar prepared to start the conversation he had been practicing in his head all day.

He was nervous. He wanted to be doing the right thing.

For everyone. But he also remembered what Hildur had inferred.

That he needed to focus on himself for a while now.

‘So, how is the show practice going?’ he began tentatively.

‘I told you,’ Magnús stated, mouth around a chocolate bar he had plucked from his rucksack. ‘I forgot some of the dance tonight.’

‘I know you said that but you will be fine, you have some days and, Magnús, it doesn’t matter if it’s not perfect. It is a Christmas show, everyone will love it and applaud at the end.’

‘Just because everyone’s parents will clap at the end doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be as good as it can be,’ Magnús told him.

He made a good point. ‘OK, so, when we get back, do you want me to help you with… the dance?’

Magnús laughed hard then, chocolate almost spilling from his mouth. ‘You want to dance?’

‘I do not want to dance. You know how I am with dancing. But, I will dance to help you remember.’ He smiled as he drove. ‘Maybe if you see how bad I am you will think of that when you are dancing the routine and it will help you recall the movements.’

‘It will make me laugh too much. And at the beginning of the show I have to be a sad puffin.’

Gunnar frowned. ‘What kind of Christmas show has a sad puffin?’

‘I am not telling you anything more because you need to wait to see it.’

Gunnar cast an eye over to Magnús, eating, playing with the strap on his backpack, and a feeling of happiness washed over him.

He was so lucky to have this boy in his life.

The tragedy of the loss of Magnús’s parents would never be erased, but maybe Gunnar had been looking at the situation wrong.

This wasn’t just doing the right thing and stepping up for an orphaned boy, this was about building an alternative, bright future for them both.

It wasn’t about feeling obligated through circumstance, it was about choosing this path and this person because you cared.

And he was beginning to care for Chloe too.

‘Magnús, I was thinking, about… asking Chloe to have dinner with us sometime.’ He swallowed, heart beating a little quicker.

‘O-K,’ Magnús said with a touch of what sounded like trepidation.

‘OK?’ Gunnar queried.

‘Well, I do not know,’ the boy said, fingers knotting with the backpack strap. ‘Because if Hildur is cooking I would say it is a good idea but if you are going to try and cook then I think it would be a very bad idea.’

He smiled then. ‘You think it would be safer if I took us all to a restaurant?’

‘No,’ Magnús said. ‘Because she should come to our home. If there is a chance that… one day, maybe… she might become part of our family.’

The boy’s words set off a whole cascade of emotions inside him, ones he didn’t even realise he possessed. It was happiness, a little cautious perhaps, but definitely only the deepest sensation of positivity.

‘You know that Chloe lives in England,’ Gunnar reminded him.

‘I know that she was sad,’ Magnús stated matter-of-factly. ‘On the tour, when we were at the waterfall.’

Gunnar nodded. ‘You know how life can give good people difficult things to deal with.’

‘Like with my parents and your parents,’ Magnús said. ‘Did Chloe lose her parents too?’

He nodded again. ‘Yes, but there are also some other things that have made her sad too.’ He paused for a beat before continuing. ‘However, I do know that she also laughs very much, sometimes even at my jokes.’

Magnús groaned. ‘You are not serious. Why?’

‘Because some people find them funny.’

‘Some people are stupid,’ Magnús said.

‘Hey!’

‘But it does not matter if she laughs at your jokes if she is going to be sick because of your food.’

‘That is not funny.’

‘No, it is the truth!’

Gunnar laughed. ‘OK, OK, so if Hildur cannot cook, and I will not let her cook no matter what she says, what do we do?’

‘Takeout?’ Magnús suggested.

Gunnar shook his head. ‘No, Magnús, I actually think maybe… you and I should cook together.’

There was no response as Gunnar had to slow the truck down for a red traffic light and stop. Was Magnús not going to say anything?

‘What do you think?’ Gunnar asked him.

‘I think,’ Magnús began. ‘That the last time we cooked together was the first time that I spoke to you after the volcano.’

He remembered. He hadn’t been certain that Magnús would. That perhaps he might have chosen to forget.

‘I know,’ Gunnar said. ‘It is one of my best memories of when you first came to live with me. The first word you said to me was “no”. Something you have been saying to me regularly ever since.’

‘You asked me if I liked cauliflower. What was I supposed to say?’

He smiled. ‘We do not have to make cauliflower. You can help me choose what we cook.’

Magnús’s eyes lit up. ‘Can we make a traditional Christmas dinner? If Chloe is going back to England before Christmas she will miss eating it with us so we should make that.’

Now Gunnar felt nauseous. It was no small task to cook the smoked lamb and all the trimmings. But Magnús’s face was so alive with joy he didn’t have the heart to dampen his idea or his spirits.

‘You will help me?’ Gunnar checked. ‘Because it has to be good.’

‘I promise,’ Magnús said sincerely, ‘that however it turns out it will be better than your jokes.’

‘You really are taking every opportunity to make fun of me, aren’t you?’ Gunnar said light-heartedly.

‘I will do it even more when you are practicing dancing with me when we get home,’ Magnús remarked.

The light turned green and Gunnar drove off again. ‘OK, Magnús. Smoked lamb, with caramelised potatoes and green beans.’

‘Good,’ Magnús said, nodding. ‘And you need to buy a new shirt. Everything you have is too old. Again, like your jokes.’

As Magnús laughed at his own humour and turned on the radio, raising the volume as a Christmas song came on, Gunnar let this feeling of complete contentment sink down deep into his conscience. This felt good. Life was good.