‘You still there?’ Herbert asked eventually.
‘Yup. Give me half an hour. I’ll see you at the hospital.’
Wednesday
Anna Björg opened her eyes and was awake instantly, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling lit only by the dim street lamp outside glowing through the curtains. She brushed a lock of hair from her face and her heart sank as she looked sideways. Helgi’s bald patch gleamed in the half-light. She carefully slipped from under the duvet and pulled on as many of her clothes as she felt was necessary, stuffing her bra and socks into the pocket of her coat and pulling her boots onto bare feet.
Her head spun as she looked regretfully at Helgi, asleep with one arm stretched out over the edge of the bed and his back to her. Anna Björg shook her head, told herself that married men had to stay strictly off limits from now on, and let herself out.
As the lock clicked shut, Helgi woke and wondered where he was. His eyes adjusted slowly to the dim orange light and he tried to decide if he really had heard something or not. He rolled onto his back, extending an arm to seek out Halla’s familiar warmth next to him in the unfamiliar bed as memories of the previous evening came flooding back and he sat up, realizing that he was alone.
‘Shit. Hell and damnation.’
It was a quiet, still night and the click of rapid footfalls outside alerted him. He pushed aside a few inches of curtain and stared out sorrowfully as Anna Björg’s dark figure, shoulders hunched, marched across the car park outside without looking back, disappearing along the street and around the corner into the darkness.
Katla Einarsdóttir smoked furiously outside the hospital’s back door. Gunna had left her in the early hours of the morning with her elder son Einar holding her hand as Elmar was wheeled into surgery. The intervening few hours seemed to have added years to her.
‘Good morning,’ Gunna greeted her as cheerfully as she dared. ‘What news of the young man?’
‘He’ll live,’ Katla said shortly and pulled ferociously on her cigarette as it burned down to the filter. She threw it into what remained of the grass and lit another, sucking smoke deep.
‘Herbert still here, is he? And Einar?’
‘Hebbi’s bringing Einar back this morning. Elmar’s still sedated.’
‘And you? I know it’s a stupid question, but are you all right?’
‘Am I all right?’ Katla stared and laughed hysterically. ‘What kind of a question is that? Of course I’m not all right. My son’s car came off the road and he’s in hospital with broken legs and arms, and I don’t know if he’s going to be a vegetable if he wakes up.’
‘The doctor said last night that there were no serious head injuries. Look, he’s had a bad crash. It could have been so much worse.’
‘That’s easy for you to say. You don’t know what it’s like. First Aron, and now Elmar. For fuck’s sake. Haven’t I had enough of this stuff?’ she snapped, throwing away the remainder of her cigarette and stalking into the building.
Gunna was in the lobby, her phone to her ear, when Herbert arrived with Einar, a broad-shouldered version of his younger brother but with hair cut sensibly and a businesslike air about him. Herbert had dark rings under his eyes and Gunna guessed he hadn’t seen much of his bed.
She cornered him once Einar was closeted with his mother.
‘Right, what happened last night?’
‘Hell, I don’t rightly know. It was on the road coming into Hveragerdi. It looks like the road was icy, he was driving too fast and lost it on one of the bends.’
‘Any witnesses?’
Herbert shrugged. ‘For what it’s worth, there was a truck about a kilometre behind him. The driver saw Elmar’s van on the bend and the next thing he knew it was rolling over off the road. It was the truck driver who called us out. When we got to the crash site, he was sitting in the van holding Elmar’s hand and keeping him awake.’
‘You said Elmar drove a van? What sort?’
‘I don’t know. A Toyota or a Nissan or some such thing.’
‘What colour?’
‘I’m not sure. Blue or black. He hadn’t had it long and I didn’t pay much attention to it. I’ve been a bit busy as well.’
‘And where is it now?’
‘It’ll be in the pound behind the police station. A recovery truck collected it last night.’
Gunna rattled her fingernails in an irregular tattoo against the wall as she thought.
‘Can you either get back to Selfoss and take some pictures of that van and email them to me, or get someone there to do it right now?’
‘Yeah, of course. I’ll get one of the guys at the station to do it,’ Herbert agreed, surprised at the intensity of Gunna’s demand.
‘You got a statement from the truck driver, didn’t you? This was definitely an accident?’
Herbert looked suspicious. ‘That’s what the man said and I don’t have a reason to not believe him. He said it was a clear road and Elmar was driving fast as he hadn’t long overtaken him.’
‘Fair enough,’ Gunna decided. ‘I’ll assume it was just an accident until I have a reason to think otherwise.’
Helgi didn’t have much appetite for breakfast. The hotel was virtually empty and the girl who had been on reception the night before brought him coffee, avoiding his eye as she did so. He texted Halla and told her how much he was missing her, waiting for his phone to bleep in response as he munched toast and the coffee began to nibble at the fringes of his dull headache.
He was wondering if the girl dispensing coffee stayed in the hotel at night, and if she had seen Anna Björg’s discreet departure, when his phone finally buzzed and he grabbed it.
Missing you too. Have a lovely day. XX he read, and it only deepened his guilt.
He finished a tub of yoghurt that sat heavy on his stomach and wondered if he could call Anna Björg, and what her response would be. He tried to rehearse a conversation with her in his mind but kept coming to a grinding halt.
‘More?’ a voice at his elbow asked.
‘What?’
‘More coffee?’ the receptionist asked and Helgi searched her face for a smirk of recognition.
‘Er. Yes, please,’ he mumbled and picked up his phone again as the girl replaced the flask on the table with a full one. He poured himself a cup of coffee that he didn’t really want and punched in a text message to Anna Björg that he then deleted and started again.
Going out to Tunga this morning. Meet for lunch? He wrote and pressed send, regretting it as soon as the message had gone.
A Polish girl with the kind of tired face that said minimum wage and long hours showed Gunna to the day room of the rest home.
‘Henning is there, in the corner,’ she said in passable Icelandic, pointing to a man with heavy glasses and a thick cardigan in spite of the stifling warmth.
‘The guy in the wheelchair?’ Gunna asked in dismay.
‘That’s Henning,’ the girl confirmed. ‘Happy to have a visitor,’ she added with a smile that lit up her face.
‘He doesn’t get visitors often?’
‘Once a month his son comes to take him out for a few hours. Maybe twice. But not more.’
‘Right,’ Gunna said, straightening her back and already convinced she was wasting her time. ‘Take me to him, will you?’
They threaded their way through the room, which was dotted with chairs, each containing an elderly dozing person, while the radio boomed from a corner of the room.
‘Henning?’ the Polish girl asked, leaning over him. ‘Visit for you,’ she said softly and the old man’s face suddenly became animated. There was no lack of life behind the sharp blue eyes that looked her up and down.
‘Not often I get a visit from a pretty girl,’ he said, his eyes gleaming roguishly behind his glasses. ‘Not as pretty as you, obviously, Wioletta,’ he added with a sideways look at the girl. ‘Get us a flask of coffee, would you?’
Gunna extended a hand and the old man shook it.