ICEHOTEL

by Hanna Allen

  ‘These are the first we’ve seen,’ I whispered, tugging at Harry’s sleeve. ‘Liz has the camera. Come on. She’ll be wanting a picture for the twins.’

  I rose too quickly, and the deer jumped away. Harry took my arm, and we followed the animals down the clearing.

  He was having difficulty in the snow. ‘Take care, my dear. It’s treacherous underfoot.’

  The ground levelled off, and the walking became easier. I looked around for Liz. She’d left the steps and was making her way towards Mike and Jonas. They were near the ledge, drinking silently now.

  The deer had stopped a few feet from her.

  ‘Liz,’ I hissed.

  She turned and, seeing the animals, pulled the camera from her pocket. She held it out, gesturing to me to take a photo.

  ‘Go on, Harry,’ I said. ‘You be in the picture. The twins will want to see you, too.’

  He seemed pleased. ‘Do you think so?’ He waded over to Liz.

  But the deer wouldn’t stay still. No sooner had they stopped, and Liz and Harry crept over, than one of them sprang away and the others followed. Eventually, they trotted over the ledge and disappeared.

  ‘Hold onto me, sweetheart,’ Liz said. ‘We’re climbing over.’ She put an arm around Harry, and he clambered down by sitting on the edge and swinging his legs.

  I peered over. The broad ledge was five feet high. The deer had taken up position to the right where the foraging was better. Ignoring Liz and Harry, they tugged at the moss between the trees, grazing the bark with their velvet antlers.

  Liz tiptoed across. Careful not to spook the animals, she motioned to Harry to join her, then signalled frantically at me to take a picture. She smoothed down her ponytail, pushing stray wisps of hair behind her ears.

  I was fumbling with the lens cap when I heard the sound.

  I spun round. The line of snowmobiles was slipping down the incline. They went slowly at first, but gathered momentum frighteningly quickly, toppling their neighbours like giant dominoes, their metallic screeching growing so loud it was painful to hear. I watched, transfixed, as the machines fell heavily towards the overhang. Only then did I remember Liz and Harry.

  Harry was staring up with a puzzled expression. Liz looked terrified. I waved my arms like a person demented, screaming to them to get out of the way. As the first of the snowmobiles pounded over the edge, Liz sprang towards the safety of the trees. The machines thundered down, one by one, demolishing a group of saplings, finally shrieking to a stop several feet from Harry. The deer were nowhere to be seen.

  Mike and Jonas had scrambled to the overhang, and were gazing at the wreckage.

  I rushed at them, yelling. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? They could have been killed. Why didn’t you warn them?’

  Mike dragged his eyes from the scene. ‘What do you mean, warn them?’

  ‘For God’s sake, you were right next to the machines.’

  Jonas was staring strangely, the white cream around his eyes making him look like a ghoul. ‘We were near the machines, yes, but when they slipped we couldn’t stop them. It would have been dangerous even to try.’

  I looked from one to the other, helplessly. ‘But why didn’t you warn Liz? And Harry?’

  Mike peered over the edge, bewildered. ‘We didn’t know they were there.’

  People were pouring from the chalet, alerted by the noise. Shock registered on their faces as they reached us and saw what had happened.

  Leo thrust his way through the crowd, his face as white as Jonas’s. ‘Sven,’ he shouted, his voice breaking with shock.

  Sven came running, zipping up his snowsuit. He stopped dead at the overhang. When he saw the wrecked snowmobiles, his expression hardened. His hands were trembling.

  I pushed past and climbed down.

  Liz had emerged from the trees, and she and Harry were staring at the metallic heap. Beyond them, around a bend in the path, came the Bibbys. They stopped and gaped. Wilson’s face was grim.

  Marcellus came over. ‘What in God’s name happened here, Maggie?’ He looked intently into my eyes. ‘Are you okay?’

  I nodded back towards the overhang. ‘I was up there. It was Harry and Liz who, who . . .’

  He squeezed my arm gently. I turned away, not wanting him to see my tears.

  Harry tried to inject a brave note into his voice. ‘We’re all right, Maggie. Shaken, but not stirred.’

  I wasn’t so sure; he and Liz looked as though they were in shock.

  ‘I’m sorry, Liz,’ I said feebly. ‘I dropped your camera.’

  ‘Oh heavens, don’t worry about that. No, really, that’s what insurance is for.’ She was shaking. ‘Well, I don’t know about you two, but I could do with a drink.’

  Harry put an arm around her shoulders and we clambered up the overhang, slipping in the snow, helping each other when we fell. The Bibbys examined the wreckage, then followed us. Mike was arguing with Sven and Leo, and everyone else was talking at once. We ignored them and made our way slowly up to the chalet.

  Halfway there, something made me look back. Jonas was standing apart from the crowd. He was watching us, motionless, his red eyes staring out of the white mask of a face.

  At the final count, the damage wasn’t as bad as Sven had thought. There were enough working machines to get us back, provided we doubled up. Harry looked distraught and, understandably, refused my suggestion that he drive.

  ‘My dear, if I’m at the helm, we won’t be in a safe pair of hands.’ He lifted his arms. ‘Look, I’m still quaking.’

  I nodded sadly. This was not the time to insist. I climbed into the front seat without another word.

  We had to wait for Sven who was huddled by the trees with Leo. He was speaking quietly but firmly. Leo was shaking his head, disbelief on his face.

  ‘Looks like Sven might be sending Leo the bill,’ I said, hoping to lighten the mood.

  When there was no reply, I glanced over my shoulder. Harry was watching Sven and Leo, his face pale, a faraway look in his eyes.

  On the coach, I made sure I sat next to him. He remained subdued, eyes closed, head against the backrest. I made a mental note to think up something fun to do later. His arm was lying on his thigh, palm upwards. I slipped my hand into his and squeezed hard, but there was no response.

  Liz was sitting with Erik, laughing at something he was saying, behaving as though nothing had happened. Jonas was staring at her, his face expressionless. He caught me watching and turned away, but not before I’d seen the look in his eyes. My mouth went dry. Was he feeling guilty at not having acted quickly? Or did he have something to hide?

  Harry’s eyes were still closed. ‘What happened back there, Maggie?’ he said quietly. ‘I was in the hollow with Liz, and saw nothing till it was too late.’

  ‘All I know is that you and Liz climbed down after the reindeer and, a second later, the snowmobiles toppled. Mike and Jonas were next to them.’ I hesitated. ‘They said they didn’t see you, but I can’t understand that. They must have seen you climb down.’

  He opened his eyes. ‘What I can’t understand is why the machines fell over in the first place. Don’t you think it odd?’

  ‘It was an accident,’ I said firmly. ‘They were badly parked.’

  ‘Were they? I thought the guide checked them before we went for lunch. You were with him when he did it.’

  ‘I didn’t see him check them all. I left after he looked at mine.’

  ‘But he would have checked each one, wouldn’t he? They were his machines. He wouldn’t be sloppy about a thing like that.’

  I felt the small hairs on the back of my neck rise. ‘What are you saying, Harry?’

  ‘Nothing, my dear, except that I can quite believe that Mike and Jonas may not have seen us. No, what I find strange is that the snowmobiles, which had all been checked by an expert, slipped their brakes.’

  Chapter 8

  In the late afternoon, I ran into Liz in the foyer.

  ‘
How are you feeling?’ I said anxiously.

  She shrugged off the question, smiling. ‘Absolutely nothing a stiff gin couldn’t cure.’

  ‘You and Harry could have been badly hurt. It makes my toes curl just to think about it.’

  ‘Well, we weren’t, so let’s not dwell on it. Talking of Harry, where is he?’

  ‘Working on his book. I tried to entice him out for a walk, but he insisted on doing his writing. He and that book are joined at the hip. You’d never think we were here for a holiday.’ I paused. ‘So how was the tour of the church?’

  ‘Yes, where were you? I made the guide wait but you didn’t show. Marcellus was asking after you,’ she added, a gleam in her eyes.

  ‘Was he?’

  ‘I have to confess, Mags, he does rather give me the creeps.’

  ‘And I like him,’ I said defensively. ‘So why does he give you the creeps?’

  ‘I don’t know. But that’s why he gives me the creeps. If I knew why he gave me the creeps, he wouldn’t be giving me the creeps, if you see what I mean.’ She ran a hand over her ponytail. ‘I have to say he’s not someone I’d ever exchange body fluids with.’

  I stared at her, wondering if this was her way of warning me away from him.

  ‘Well, why didn’t you come to the church, Mags?’

  ‘I had a nap and didn’t wake in time. Did I miss anything?’

  ‘It’s interesting enough if architecture’s your thing.’ She tilted her head. ‘You could pick the church up and transport it to Italy and it really wouldn’t look out of place. Inside, though, it’s pure Scandinavian. All the original Italian stuff was removed centuries ago.’

  ‘And the platform in the tower?’ I said eagerly.

  ‘Yes, Marita was right. There’s a notice telling you about viewing the aurora.’ She studied me. ‘It’s a bit of a climb, Mags. Are you absolutely sure you want to do it?’

  ‘Later in the week, perhaps. Tonight after dinner, I’m going out onto the river.’

  ‘Gosh, you are keen. But how do you know there’ll be anything to see?’

  I nodded at the notice board. ‘They’re expecting a display tonight. There’s something about a solar flare.’

  She shook her head slowly. ‘I really can’t understand what it is with you and this aurora. It’s just pretty lights in the sky, isn’t it?’

  ‘So tell me, did Mike go on the tour?’ I said, suddenly curious.

  ‘Yes, as a matter of fact he did.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And nothing.’

  ‘And afterwards?’

  ‘We’re only just back.’ Her voice was measured. ‘Mags, do I detect a subtext here?’

  I was now annoyed I’d missed the tour. Not because I wanted to see the church, which I could visit at any time, but because I wanted to see how Mike and Liz behaved together.

  She pulled a face. ‘Wilson kept interrupting the guide, asking daft questions. At one point, I thought Mike was going to wallop him.’

  ‘If he had, he’d have come off badly. You saw how Marcellus handled himself.’

  ‘You don’t think Mike would be a match? They’re the same height and build, you know.’ There was a glint in her eyes.

  ‘I suppose you think Mike would have Marcellus’s nuts in a jar in seconds.’

  She smiled. ‘You always did have a rather fine turn of phrase, Mags.’

  She seemed determined to pursue Mike. But she was my best friend, and I had to tell her. ‘Look, Liz, there’s something you need to know about Mike. He told me he’s into gambling in a big way. He goes to poker matches in Edinburgh.’

  She hesitated, seemingly undecided as to which stance to take. ‘Well, what of it?’ she said finally. ‘It gives him a certain cachet, don’t you think?’

  ‘I don’t. Put him back where you found him, Liz. People who gamble often ruin their lives. And the lives of others,’ I added meaningfully. ‘If this is how Mike likes to spend his time, give him a wide berth.’

  ‘It’s just a bit of harmless fun,’ she said in a tone which suggested she didn’t believe what she was saying. ‘I’m hoping to get to know him, Mags.’

  ‘Be careful what you wish for. You didn’t see the lust on his face when he told me.’

  ‘Lust?’

  ‘Yes, lust. And it’s not just the gambling. There’s something about him I find disturbing. I can’t put my finger on it. He’s all charm and smarm on the surface, but underneath I think he’s mad, bad, and dangerous to know.’

  Her eyes held mine. I knew what she was thinking: Are you really such a good judge of men, Mags? But she had the good grace not to rub it in.

  ‘It’s ages till dinner,’ she said, when the silence had gone on too long. ‘There’s time for a sauna. Are you coming?’

  I was disappointed she’d dismissed my suspicions so readily. ‘I’m going to the lounge,’ I said.

  She frowned. ‘Oh, you’re not drinking already? Do go easy, Mags. Remember it’s Purple Kiss after dinner.’

  ‘I’m not going for a drink. I feel like a game of chess.’

  I watched her leave, suddenly remembering the fright in her eyes when she saw the pile of twisted snowmobiles. Did she know that Mike had been above the overhang when they fell? And hadn’t shouted to warn her? Had Mike really not seen her?

  Was I becoming paranoid?

  The only guests in the lounge were the Ellises and Jane Galloway. They were in an alcove, Robyn and Jim huddled one on either side of Jane. She was holding her camera so they could all see the screen.

  I took the seat opposite. ‘Are those of the snowmobile trip?’

  ‘The Icehotel tour.’ Jim looked up. ‘I wish I could have brought my boys to see that Scottish room.’

  ‘Your children?’ I said, smiling.

  ‘My pupils. Robyn and I are teachers.’ He glanced at his wife. When she didn’t respond, he added, ‘We both teach English literature.’

  ‘That was some trip today, Maggie,’ said Jane.

  ‘The accident with the snowmobiles?’

  ‘We were at that viewing place and saw nothing. What in heaven’s name happened?’

  It wasn’t a topic I wanted to dwell on, but I could see they expected me to tell them what I knew. ‘One minute the machines were on the slope,’ I said. ‘The next, they were in a heap. It was a bizarre accident.’

  ‘If bizarre accidents are going to happen – ’ said Jim.

  ‘Oh, stop being neurotic,’ said Robyn. ‘Nothing is going to happen, bizarre or otherwise.’

  ‘I’m sure Sven has insurance,’ Jane said, smiling ruefully. ‘According to Mr Bibby, those machines cost a packet.’

  At the mention of Sven, Harry’s words came back: What I find strange is that the snowmobiles, which had been checked by an expert, slipped their brakes. Sven was an expert, so how could those machines have fallen? I kept coming back to it: Mike and Jonas had been standing beside them.

  The others were watching me as though I held the key to the puzzle. There was nothing more I could tell them.

  ‘I’m forgetting my manners,’ Jim said kindly. ‘Can I get you something to drink?’

  ‘Thanks, but no.’ I cleared my throat. ‘I came for a game of chess. Any takers?’

  ‘Sorry, I don’t play,’ said Jane.

  ‘Nor do we,’ said Robyn with finality.

  Jim was opening his mouth to speak, when a deep voice said, ‘I’ll give you a game, ma’am.’

  I turned slowly. ‘Excellent,’ I said, hoping the tone of my voice was consistent with its message.

  Wilson fetched the flat wooden box from the bookcase. At the table beside the window, he set up the board and pieces. ‘How long have you been playing chess, Maggie?’ He was studying me through narrowed eyes.

  Of course, I thought, a shrewd businessman would evaluate the opposition first. I smiled disarmingly. ‘Since I was a child.’

  ‘Not too long then.’ He held out his arms, hands clenched into fists.

  I poi
nted to his left. He uncurled the fist to reveal a black pawn.

  A soft smile touched his lips. Something about his expression made me suspect he’d played chess all his life. Perhaps not with a board and wooden pieces.

  He began with the traditional opening: pawn to king four.

  ‘Are you enjoying your stay here, Wilson?’ I said, making a show of concentration.

  ‘This place is something else, isn’t it? The snow conditions are just right.’

  I lifted the pawn in front of the queen’s knight and moved it two squares forward.

  ‘Ah, the Sicilian defence. A good response. I see you’ll be keeping me on my toes.’ His hand hovered over the board. ‘Yes, I was saying that the snow conditions are right for just about everything. I’m hoping to go on the snow-shoeing walk tomorrow.’ He made his play, moving another pawn.

  ‘Today’s accident hasn’t put you off?’

  ‘Nah. I’ve seen accidents with snowmobiles before.’

  We played silently for a while. He moved his pieces quickly and confidently, seeming impatient at my hesitation.

  ‘Are you going back to the States at the end of the week?’ I said.

  ‘I have unfinished business in Stockholm.’

  ‘To do with your schools’ programme?’ I glanced up. ‘Marcellus told me about it.’

  ‘I’ve a few things to conclude there. Then there’s the obligatory reception at the palace.’

  ‘It sounds like a great thing you’re doing,’ I said quietly.

  ‘I’m proud of it.’ A strange look came into his eyes. ‘Possibly more so than of my other initiatives.’

  ‘Including the Bibby Foundation?’

  ‘The Foundation is my son’s pigeon now, I have little to do with it.’

  ‘Including the decision on what to fund?’ I said, hoping I wasn’t being too blunt.

  He didn’t look up. ‘I will always retain control over that.’

  ‘And does Marcellus agree with your funding decisions?’ I said, knowing that now I was being too blunt.

  ‘Not always.’ His voice was hard. ‘He has this romantic view of academics, because he has no idea of what it is to be one. If I left it to him, he’d bankrupt the Foundation before discontinuing your friend’s research grants.’