by Karen Swan
‘Zac, has anyone been going to check on Signy while I’ve been gone?’
‘Well, Anna tried but she said she’s always up and dressed when she goes in in the mornings,’ he shrugged. ‘And at night, she’s already in bed when we get back.’
‘Oh.’ Not for them the ‘playing dead’ trick then?
They walked into the cabin, stamping their snowy feet on the mat and Bo gave a shiver of relief at the warmth there – only to shudder. Things had become dramatically more ‘relaxed’ in the intervening period since she’d been here last: clothes hung off the back of the chairs, newspapers and a map were scattered over the sofa, a cluster of empty beer bottles stood by the door; dirty dishes were piled up in the sink, five red wine bottles and the dribbling stubs of two red candles were left on the table and the whole place smelled of wet socks and damp towels.
‘Oh, come on!’ she said, surveying the chaos and feeling her mood sour further. This wasn’t the ‘homecoming’ she’d been anticipating. ‘You can’t be serious? I get a cold and you start living like students?’
‘What?’ Lenny asked, looking around in bafflement and seeming genuinely blind to her complaint. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said sarcastically. ‘I say students, but what I really mean is pigs.’ She put her hands on her hips and looked straight at Zac.
‘It’s not that bad, is it?’ he asked, scanning the room.
‘Zac – I am not staying here if you don’t clean this place up. I mean it. I’ll go straight back to Anders’ place again and stay in town.’
But her heart pounded heavily at the threat – that was now the last place she could go; she could never go back there. Zac stared back open-mouthed, panic scurrying over his face like mice. ‘Len, mate! You wash, I’ll dry,’ he said hurriedly, squeezing her around the waist and planting a kiss on her cheek. ‘We’ll have it tidied up in just a bit.’ He smelled of beer, she realized and she noticed his eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. He was hungover to hell. They both were. How had she not noticed it outside?
‘And you’re going to need to wash afterwards. You stink.’ She wrinkled up her nose. ‘Both of you.’
‘Yeah?’ Zac looked hurt as he sniffed his armpits. ‘Oh yeah, maybe you’re right.’
‘Oh yeah, maybe I am,’ she mimicked, just as they all heard the sound of the helicopter starting up again, that distinctive dud-dud beat making the plates rattle in the dresser. It was Anders’ day off and he was taking his grandmother back into town for her second weekly trip; the boys ran to the window to watch, laughing at the incongruity of the image of the old lady with the white hair wearing earphones and rising into the sky, until she was looking down upon the fjord like a queen.
But laughing wasn’t what Bo felt like and as she went into the bedroom, the door closed behind her with a slam.
She was straight back into it. With Anders having the day off, Zac and Lenny (not forgetting Anna) had planned to go skiing at Stranda. It was an hour’s drive and two ferries up the fjord and it was a peculiarly subdued journey, as everyone’s respective hangovers began to bang in their heads. But Bo threw herself into the action with a vim that belied her still-embattled body. She was determined not to give the haters any more ammunition; she would be in every shot, and in every shot she would be smiling. Happiness was always the best revenge, wasn’t that what they said? Well, let them see her with Zac. Back together. Stronger than ever. Let the gossips and the naysayers go hang. Enough about Anna. Enough about Anders. That was all just noise. She knew the truth. She knew what made up the other 80 per cent of her life that her detractors never got to see.
Her Ridge Riders ski kit – a black Bond Girl-style all-in-one with yellow trim – fitted like it had been made for her and she threw herself down the quiet slopes with unusual abandon: she beat Anna on every run, even Lenny too on some; only Zac could still outgun her, and by the time they stopped for a late lunch, red-cheeked and with burning thighs – at three o’clock, the night clouds already sailing in – their collective mood had lifted. Clicking off their skis, they all bustled, laughing, into a mountain restaurant, ravenous and feeling reborn. Bo, feeling the endorphins ricocheting through her, led the charge. She was worn out but happy as they all collapsed into a booth by the window, and she had almost, very nearly all but forgotten about her falling out with Anders.
‘Well, she’s definitely back,’ Lenny said, nodding at his screen as he scrolled through the images he had taken.
‘My baby is back,’ Zac murmured, his arm slung behind the back of the bench seat as he kissed her hair again, and Bo felt a private swell of victory as she stared at the menu, unable to risk darting a glance in Anna’s direction.
Anna had been quiet all morning and had only become quieter as Bo bested her on every run. The rivalry was unspoken but she knew they both felt it. Anna had overstepped the mark in her absence but the dial was being set back to normal now and she didn’t like it. Anna had been basking in Bo’s spotlight and, whether it had been inadvertent or not, it was clear she had enjoyed the attention. She had liked being the #girlinred.
‘This is almost reading like a catalogue shoot,’ Lenny said, flicking his eyes over to Anna. ‘Your bosses are gonna die when they see this shit.’
Anna gave a tight smile.
Bo looked around the restaurant. It was a small octagonal hut at the top of one of the pistes, fitted out in an industrial style with exposed steel rafters and planked counters. The waitress – speaking faultless English – was quick to come over and take their orders for a round of beers (hot chocolate for her) and soups. There were another five or six groups in there, helmets and bobble hats hanging on hooks and dripping melted snow onto the floor, a couple of kids walking in the typically awkward snow-boot gait, their salopette braces already down by their waists as they headed for the toilets.
‘That’s a great one,’ Lenny said, holding up his camera to show them all – it was an action shot of Bo carving a turn, her body looking lean and strong as she angled in to it, a spray of snow reaching to the screen, her mouth open in delight, teeth looking super-white against her tanned skin and rainbow-reflective goggles. Looking at it, she could almost believe herself that it was the most fun she’d ever had and not a forced display of defiance. But she had faked it till she made it, for she felt happy now. Back on track. She dropped her head contentedly onto Zac’s shoulder.
‘God, my girl is hot,’ Zac said proudly, squeezing her knee. He had been all over her since her freak-out about the state of the cabin, trying to make it up to her, and she felt bad now; it hadn’t been the mess that had triggered her tantrum.
‘That’s going to be a sell-out for sure,’ Anna said, looking at the image over Lenny’s shoulder. He was already writing up a caption. ‘. . . Hmm, I might ring head office and see what stock they’ve got on it. Don’t post it just yet, okay?’ she said to him as she got up and, shrugging her jacket back on, went outside to make a call; reception was better out there.
‘I need a slash anyway,’ Lenny said with a sigh.
‘Nice. Thanks,’ Bo muttered sarcastically.
‘Oh yeah, she’s back all right,’ Lenny quipped.
‘I’ll join you, mate. Before the food comes,’ Zac agreed.
‘What are you? Teenage girls?’ she scoffed as he shuffled off the bench seat and the two of them rock-walked across the room together.
Bo gave a sigh. Reaching across the table, she picked up Lenny’s camera and continued scrolling through the images. Lenny had really gone overboard on the number of frames today – it was a clear day, the light was good and the fjord, lying like a sleeping dragon, made for a stunning backdrop.
Lenny had been right though, the three of them in shot did look suspiciously professional, throwing all the right shapes and silhouettes for the camera as they passed. Yet again, Anna was squarely in a lot of the frames, although that was hardly surprising given that she and Lenny were now sleeping together; he was bound to be d
istracted by her for the short-term. Very short-term.
On and on she scrolled, eventually getting back to the images of this morning taken from inside the cabin as she’d arrived home: her hug with Zac, her jumping out of the helicopter, arms wide, hair flying behind her. And then before her return – inside the cabin with Anna: Anna, looking post-coital and running across the space in just her towel, one hand up to hide her face; a tray set with two steaming coffees and almond croissants; Anna looking surprised – wild-haired, hungover and not entirely happy – as she peered around the bedroom door, waiting for her bath.
Before all of that, came the night before. It looked like it had been rowdy, the three of them sitting with several bottles of red wine, their arms splayed on the table, and charred cork marks on their hopelessly laughing faces as they played Ibble Dibble, one of Zac’s favourite drinking games.
Bo felt a pang of envy at the sight of them all carrying on without her. Not that she expected them to sit in chaste silence and do crosswords in her absence but, still, did they have to have quite such a good time? Nonetheless, it was quite comical to travel backwards from their dishevelled appearances at the end of the night, to their more put-together selves earlier in the evening. Anna had cooked, she saw. Zac had been playing solitaire with a deck of cards. Lenny had got his guitar out.
‘Right—’ She looked up as Anna sat back down on her chair opposite. ‘They’re contacting the factory to get another batch out as soon as possible.’
Bo replaced Lenny’s camera on the table. ‘They can do that? Respond to market demand that quickly?’
‘It will mean limiting numbers on other styles, depending on how much fabric is left. But they’ve said it’ll be worth it if the response is the same as with the Sami jacket. Trust me, that suit is going to fly as soon as you post.’
The waitress came over with their drinks order, setting down the beers. Anna gave a small groan of protest as she lifted hers.
‘Feeling a little delicate this morning?’ Bo smiled, sipping her hot chocolate and wondering whether she could broach the topic of Anna and Lenny being together. She was dying to know more but she felt on the back foot. She and Anna had spent hardly any time together and nothing at all one-on-one; they didn’t know each other yet; they hadn’t got drunk or cooked for one another, whereas the others had had three days to bond with her. They had all knitted together as a team in her absence and Bo was conscious of being left to play catch-up. On the chairlifts, as the hangovers had receded, she had listened as they repeatedly cracked jokes about something or other that had happened yesterday or the day before, as though they were all now bonded for life. Incredibly, Bo had felt sidelined, even though she could see how much Zac was trying to bring her back into the fold again.
‘What? Oh, you mean . . .’ Anna rolled her eyes, blushing a little. ‘I can’t keep up with them. I don’t know what I was thinking drinking all that wine last night.’
‘They are pretty hardcore,’ Bo agreed. ‘Take my advice – don’t even try. The hangovers aren’t worth it.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’ Anna stared at the table, seeming embarrassed. Her personal situation with Lenny had blurred the boundaries of this professional relationship and Bo could already feel how it changed things – and that was before they’d even broken up. What would it be like then? ‘But thank goodness for this today,’ she said, jerking her chin to indicate the ski resort. ‘It has been the best thing for clearing a sore head.’
‘Yes. I feel better for it too,’ Bo agreed. ‘Resting is all well and good but after a certain point, I think you just feel more “meh” for moping around, you know?’
‘We are all so glad you are back.’
Bo smiled, knowing that was a lie. ‘Your bosses most of all, I bet,’ she said simply.
‘Well,’ Anna shrugged. ‘You are vital to the Wanderlusters image.’
Yes she was. ‘It’s definitely good to be back in the frame again,’ Bo sighed, keeping her voice neutral. ‘It was all such terrible timing with that stupid accident and then me falling sick just as we were getting going. I’m so sorry it’s all been so messy.’
‘Hey, no! We are just glad you are okay. It was not your fault.’
Bo’s eyes flashed up to her. No, it wasn’t – or at least, not entirely. As she recalled – and the memories were pretty hazy – Anna was the one who had been pushing her, directing her. Bo never would have stepped onto those rocks ordinarily. Shouldn’t Anna take some responsibility for what had happened?
But Anna didn’t appear to be one afflicted by introspection. Instead, she leaned in a little closer, a sly look coming into her eyes. Girl to girl. ‘Tell me though – was it really okay being with Anders at his house? I mean, he is so difficult.’
A chill swirled around her, as though a door had been opened and a draught slipped in. ‘Yeah.’ Bo shrugged, looking down into her drink. ‘I mean, it’s not like he wasn’t around much.’
Anna’s voice had changed – becoming lower, intimate, secretive. ‘It is so strange. I know I recognize him. I just do not know where.’
Bo tried to think for her. ‘Well, I don’t know – could it have been at a trade convention perhaps? You both deal with the outdoor market, after all.’
Anna wrinkled her nose, looking sceptical. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘Or uni? Apparently, he used to live in Oslo.’
‘Oslo. Hmm, maybe. But that is a big place and I’ve only been a handful of times. I thought Alesund would be the connection. That is the main town around here.’ She sighed, just as the guys re-emerged. ‘Oh well, it will come to me.’
Zac flopped down beside her heavily and nuzzled her cheek again, kissing her temple as though he’d been gone for two years and not two minutes.
‘Oh, good – beer,’ Lenny said, taking a deep appreciative glug. He smacked his lips together, a giant slug of foam on his upper lip as he looked across at her and Zac for a moment. Then he reached over and squeezed Anna’s thigh, before draping his arm around her, his hand grazing her breast as he kissed her lingeringly, his tongue darting between her lips.
Bo shot Zac a look – their display was so overtly sexual – but he just shrugged.
The waitress came back with their lunch – huge bowls of soup and buttered buns – and Bo, feeling her tummy rumble at the smell of it, dived in. She was halfway through before she noticed the others (not Lenny, he was always starving) didn’t seem to share her appetite. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked, seeing their still-full bowls. ‘Don’t you like it?’
‘Mushrooms,’ Zac muttered, by way of explanation.
‘My hangover is worse than I thought,’ Anna smiled wanly.
Lenny looked up from his spoon. ‘I think it’s great.’
Chapter Seventeen
Lodal, July 1936
Signy stood at the window and looked up into the mountains, her eyes a narrow squint. It was up there somewhere, watching. Waiting. She had heard the wolf’s howl and it had made her sit up in bed, her heart jack-hammering. Margit hadn’t stirred – lips parted, features soft, she looked kind even in her sleep. But Signy was the shepherd; it had become uniquely her job – whilst the others rotated the chores of milking and haying, churning and picking – it was agreed that she had the stamina, the wanderlust and the connection with the animals. She must protect them.
Tiptoeing into the main room, she looked out across the moonlit meadows. The pastures were empty of course – she herself had put the animals in the pens – the hay drying on the ricks swaying like horse manes in the light breeze. The snowball-headed cottongrass by the stream glowed bright like globes, thick shadows covering the ground as the almost-full moon tiptoed above the sleeping valley.
In the cabins opposite, everything was still. Kari slept like a bear – Signy knew nothing would wake her – but there was no movement in either hers, with Brit and Ashi, nor Sofie’s. She alone had heard the wolf.
But then again, she felt she had almost been waiti
ng for it. She had sensed its eyes on her for the past few weeks as she herded the flocks to and from the outfields and she had come to realize from the way the hairs rose on the back of her neck that it wasn’t a human gaze but a predator. A hunter. Her instinct told her so.
The animals knew it too. They had been increasingly skittish, collectively shunning the higher ground and its rocky outcrops – they picked up scents she could not and had begun to stay close; even Stormy had stayed nearby. And so unbeknownst to the other girls, knowing they would only panic if she told them, Signy had begun to take a threshing knife on her trips; furious indignation wouldn’t count for much against a wolf’s jaws, and she now obsessively counted her flock even though it was unnecessary. If one was taken, she would just know.
The cardigan her mother had knitted for her for Christmas was on the back of a chair and carefully – avoiding the creaky floorboards – she shrugged it on over her pink embroidered nightdress and crept outside. Her rubber boots were kept at the door to the cabin and she stepped onto the mossy path, shivering in the night chill.
She buttoned up the cardigan as her ears strained for sounds of disturbance in the stables, but as she got closer all she heard was the occasional snorts and grunts of dozing animals, hooves scratching against the hay.
The howl came again, a sound that made her skin creep, and she pivoted on her heel. It wasn’t close, but nor was it far. It had come from the east just over the ridge and was closer than it had been, of that she was certain. Unless, of course, there was more than one.
She needed to know. It was unlikely, but if there was a pack circling them, the threshing knife wouldn’t be enough and they would need to send for a hunting rifle from the village in the morning. She couldn’t shoot, but the very sound of its blasting barrels might be enough to frighten them off.
