by Sam Clarke
Isabelle and I headed for my cabin. I fired up my laptop and opened up a search page. She straightened her shorts and sat on my desk. I tried hard not to stare at her naked legs and wondered if they felt as smooth as they looked. And then I thought of Cressida’s legs and my mind started to wander.
‘Why are you giving Magnus attitude?’ she asked, bringing me back to earth. Sometimes she could be as direct as my father. I fiddled with the mouse, the cursor moved aimlessly across the screen.
‘It was him,’ I said bitterly.
‘Can you be a bit more specific?’ she asked, painting her nails with my Tipp-Ex.
‘The divorce, the break-up of my family, it was all down to him! He admitted it! I spent my whole life blaming my mother for something she didn’t do. I always pictured him as a casualty of her decisions, but he never was, was he? All along, he did exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it, without giving us… without giving me, a second thought!’
My outpour didn’t shake her one bit. She kept on painting her nails with the dedication of a medieval miniaturist. ‘It’s all too blurred. You need to dissect the situation. Magnus is certainly at fault, but if your mother’s so innocent, why didn’t she tell you the truth?’
‘She didn’t want people to know he had dumped her. He said he broke her heart.’
‘Was there another woman?’
‘No, apparently becoming a cryptozoologist was the last straw.’
‘It’s hardly romantic,’ said the miniaturist, admiring her handiwork, ‘but to end a marriage for a change of career is a bit extreme. There must be more.’
I put my head in my hands, upset, the discovery too raw for me to view things rationally. I knew I had to talk to my father sooner or later, but I wasn’t ready to face him. Right now, all I could see was how he had let me, and my mother, down. ‘What do you know about his company?’ I asked.
‘Kraken?’ She produced a condescending snort. ‘It’s not Fortune 500 material, more like Misfortune 500. Why do you ask?’
‘Because I need to know where I stand. The very little I know about him doesn’t make any sense. My mother always said that he was too skint to visit, but he owns a company, lives on Valhalla and travels on private jets.’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he billed his crazy expenses back to Knut. If you want to see how well Magnus is doing in his own right, you can buy Kraken’s accounts off the internet. Do you have a credit card?’
‘Nope. You?’
‘Yes, but it’s maxed.’ She drummed her freshly painted fingers on my desk. ‘How badly do you want to know?’
I sensed trouble, but I didn’t care. ‘Badly enough. What do you have in mind?’
‘I love tapping into your dark side,’ she said, with a mischievous smile. ‘Viggo has access to Kraken’s bank account. If we can get hold of his password, we should be able to take a peek.’
‘Let’s do it.’
CHAPTER 17
Before concentrating on our espionage mission, we had to get our Galileo assignment out of the way. The hand-drawn portraits were proving particularly difficult. Mine resembled Santa, Isabelle’s was still a work in progress, and the progress was slow. She huffed and threw her pencil to one side. ‘We’re wasting time. Let’s print an image and trace.’
‘Isn’t that cheating?’ I asked, while Santa glared mercilessly from the sketch pad.
She rolled her eyes and copied an image of Galileo onto a memory stick. ‘We’ll use the printer in the control room.’
Against my better judgment, I followed her. Half-way down the stairs, she turned and signalled to be quiet. The lab door was open, my father and Miguel were arguing. ‘You haven’t told him yet?’ yelled Miguel
‘No, but I will,’ replied my father.
‘Magnus, this is serious! You know we have to report any Jerusalem-related findings, no matter how small or insignificant. Domina Nostra Hierosolymitana falls in that category.’
‘Relax! It’s just a book, and we don’t even have it!’
‘I always stood by you, but this is going too far. It may be just a book, and it’s probably going to be a dead-end, but we must call it in. It’s our duty. You cannot let personal matters interfere with your obligations. We knew that having Noah here could potentially complicate things. Viggo and I respected your decision because you’re a brother to us, but we all took an oath and we must stay true to it.’
Jesus Christ! What were they involved in? Isabelle and I exchanged confused looks. No matter how much we wanted to, we couldn’t stay there much longer. My father and Miguel could have come out at any moment. The control room was about ten metres away. We removed our flip-flops and, one at a time, made a dash for it. We hadn’t planned on Viggo being there. ‘To what do I owe the honour?’ he asked, from the comfort of his swivel chair.
‘We need the printer,’ said Isabelle, fanning herself with the memory stick.
‘Princess, you know the rules. You’re not supposed to sneak in here. Leave the memory stick, I’ll print it when I’m done.’
‘We’ll wait,’ she said, implying that the only way to get rid of her was to give her what she wanted.
Viggo’s phone beeped. Whoever said that men cannot multi-task had never met Viggo Gustafsson. He composed a message with one hand and typed his computer password with the other. Doing two things at a time slowed him down and I was able to see which keys he tapped. He plugged the memory stick in and opened Galileo’s jpeg. ‘How many copies do you…?’
He stopped midsentence and looked over my shoulder. I was suddenly aware of my father standing behind me. I got ready to blank him, but he didn’t even try to acknowledge my presence. He ordered Viggo to schedule a call with Knut and left without waiting for his reply.
#
My father and Ariel were practicing Krav Maga on the main deck. Dad was usually an excellent fighter, but today Ariel was destroying him.
‘You’re not concentrating, Magnus. Your movements are slow and predictable.’ Ariel easily blocked a few more hits. ‘Focus on the fight, you’re too distracted. This is exactly what we feared would happen. A true warrior never loses concentration, never misses a chance to anticipate his opponent. You must channel your energy properly, be aware of your surroundings. Hello Noah.’
My father briefly turned and, wham, with one swift move Ariel had him horizontal on deck. He rested his foot against dad’s throat. ‘I haven’t crushed a windpipe in a while.’
‘Let’s keep it that way,’ replied my father, remaining perfectly still.
‘Maybe you should try some of that chanting you do with the yoga teacher,’ suggested Ariel with a hint of disgust. ‘At least you won’t get hurt.’
My father wasn’t offended in the slightest. ‘Maybe I should, I need to realign myself.’
Ariel removed his foot. ‘If you keep on fighting this badly, you’ll be realigned by your opponent. Bone by bone.’
My father got up and rubbed his neck, he was out of breath. A part of me took solace in the fact that our fight had shaken him so badly. He glanced in my direction. ‘Want to talk?’
Each time he spoke, I couldn’t escape the wave of resentment. ‘No thanks,’ I muttered politely, but coldly.
He nodded, hand on his hip, slightly hunched over. Ariel’s hits must have been powerful ones. ‘Noah?’
‘Uhu?’
‘I’ll stop reaching out because it’s not working. When you’re ready to talk, come and find me. I treated you like an adult and, maybe, it was too soon. I’m sorry, I’m not used to dealing with kids.’
It was the most offensive apology I had ever heard. I watched him limp towards his cabin and reflected on my actions. All I ever wanted was the truth and yet, on the one occasion where he had been open and straightforward, I had shut him out. We were at a turning point in our relationship and my behaviour was going to be the deal breaker. If I could put aside my resentment and my anger, maybe I could get the answers I so badly needed. I inhaled and practically smelle
d my own fear. What I had discovered so far had created a lot of internal turmoil. Was I ready for more?
CHAPTER 18
I woke up to the sound of the waves lapping against the side of the ship. My schedule for the week had been delivered. Viggo punctually slipped an updated version under my door each Monday morning. I studied the A4 sheet, our second confined dive had been confirmed. Viggo’s password was still embedded in my head. I really wanted to access his computer to find out more about Kraken, but I didn’t want to land him in any trouble. Isabelle didn’t share my hesitation – her copy of Teen Vogue had started to fall apart and she desperately needed a diversion.
My father’s disappointing Krav Maga performance had resulted in extra training. In terms of abilities, Viggo was his best match so Ariel had decided that they should fight each other. Isabelle and I watched them spar on the quarter deck. They were concentrating very hard and paid us no attention. ‘Let’s check the computer now,’ she whispered. ‘They’ll fight for at least forty-five minutes.’
We sneaked down below. The control room was open. Viggo never bothered to lock it because he trusted everyone on board. I sat on his swivel chair and guilt seeped into my bones.
‘Don’t feel bad, he’ll never know.’ Isabelle sounded like a self-help audio-book for hesitant criminals. ‘You’re just going to take a look. You deserve the truth, you know you do.’
I’m ashamed to say I didn’t need much encouragement. I entered the password and the computer unlocked. Viggo hadn’t bothered to log off properly – his mailbox and other applications remained open, including the web page of a small financial institution which prided itself on its ethical investments. It couldn’t be a coincidence. I clicked on the client log-in button and was redirected to a menu asking for an access key. We rummaged through the drawers and uncovered a security key generator. My shaky fingers entered the code; Kraken’s bank statement appeared on the screen. Isabelle produced a well-tuned builder’s whistle. ‘Chasing imaginary animals pays pretty well!’
‘It doesn’t. Look closely. The balance is healthy, but all the transactions are in debit.’ I paused. ‘All but one.’
She peered at the screen. Each month, a regular benefactor credited the same large sum: Knut Larsson. ‘Well, at least your mother wasn’t lying,’ she said, ‘Magnus is totally skint. Without Knut, Kraken would go bust.’
I checked the balance again. ‘He’s got more than enough for a few trips to London, though. First class.’
‘If Knut’s pulling the strings, he may not be allowed to visit you. Talking about Knut, did you figure out why he hates you so much?’
‘Not yet. How are we doing for time?’ I asked, nervously biting my already chewed fingernail.
She checked the timer on her phone. ‘Ten minutes left.’
‘Maybe we should pack it in, just to be safe.’
‘Agreed.’
I locked the computer. As I pushed the swivel chair back, I accidently hit Isabelle’s foot. She lost her balance and fell forward. I tried to catch her before she hit the desk and she somehow landed in my lap. We were locked in an incredibly clumsy embrace when the door flew open and Viggo walked in.
‘Dude!’ He clasped his hand over his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… eer… interrupt?’ He lowered his temporary shield, his face the picture of shock and embarrassment. ‘Are you guys together or something?’
Isabelle sprang to her feet and rejected the idea so fiercely I was nearly offended. ‘Of course not,’ she said, oozing repulsion from every pore.
‘But you were sitting on him and—’
‘Do you really think I would look twice at someone like Noah? I go for more… manly types.’ She gazed intensely into his eyes. He didn’t get the hint and stared back vacantly. She exhaled, defeated. ‘I fell in his lap.’
‘That’s handy,’ he said with a snort.
I was now quite amused, but Isabelle didn’t find the situation funny in the slightest. If Viggo believed she had feelings for me, her hopes of achieving whatever she hoped to achieve with him would be incinerated. I was an expert on unrequited love and felt I had a duty to put things right. ‘She’s telling the truth. She did fall in my lap completely by accident, it’s all a huge misunderstanding.’
His shocked expression made way for a suspicious one. ‘And what were you doing here in the first place?’
My mind went blank. I already regretted betraying his trust, but it was too late to come clean without getting into a lot of trouble. Isabelle was strangely quiet, a tell-tale sign that she was also stuck for ideas. His eyes scanned the room and focused on the computer, I freaked out. ‘It’s true,’ I heard myself say. ‘We wanted to be alone.’
‘Noah!’ screamed Isabelle, her mouth twisted in a revolted snare.
Viggo remained very serious. ‘First of all, the control room is off limits unless I’m here.’ He shifted uncomfortably. ‘Secondly, I’m trying to be delicate here but… you guys make a terrible couple.’
Had we nodded with more vigour, we would have sustained whiplash injuries. ‘Will you tell my father?’ I asked.
He thought about it and shook his head. ‘It would be too awkward, but it’s not your father you have to worry about.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Dude, I’m not sure how Miguel would react if he knew you were snogging his only daughter in the control room.’
The colour drained from Isabelle’s face. Images of my own funeral flashed before my eyes. ‘Look,’ said Viggo, ‘I’ll let you off, but you must promise that, from now on, you’ll behave properly. No romance, are we clear?’
‘Absolutely,’ we concurred.
He pointed to the door. ‘Get out. I need some time to recover. Noah, Magnus is waiting for you. Your mother has requested an urgent Skype meeting.’
#
‘I told you I hadn’t lost him,’ said my father through gritted teeth as I entered his cabin. Mum’s face was already on the laptop screen and, clearly, they had squeezed in a quick virtual fight. ‘Here he is,’ continued my father, ‘Noah Larsson in the flesh. Noah, why don’t you pick up a newspaper showing today’s date and put it next to your face? Once your mother is satisfied that you’re not a hologram, she will hopefully tell us why we had to drop everything to come and see her. I can’t imagine anything being so urgent.’
I sat down in front of the camera. I wasn’t sure if he was serious about the newspaper thing, but I couldn’t see one. There was something slightly different about my mother, she looked… excited?
‘Hello mum,’ I began mechanically, ‘how are you?’
‘I’m fine, thank you.’ She paused. She nearly smiled. ‘Actually, I’m great.’
Something was horribly wrong. Happiness wasn’t part of my mother’s world. Her generic stance was that feelings, like volatile substances, were too unstable to deal with. She slowly lifted her left hand and positioned it in front of the camera. My father jumped up. ‘Are you engaged?’ he asked, completely astounded.
‘I am.’ The Cobra was trying really hard to smile properly. ‘I know this may come as a shock, Noah, but I have been seeing someone for the last eight months, his name is Jean-Claude. Last night he went down on one knee, luckily his joints are perfectly healthy, and asked for my hand. Of course, I agreed.’
‘Of course,’ spluttered my father, his arms defensively crossed over his chest. ‘Who wouldn’t want to marry a man with perfectly healthy joints? It’s the epitome of romanticism.’
He stepped back from the screen and plopped himself on his unmade bed. The news was unexpected, but I really didn’t think he would sulk. Did he still harbour some feelings for her? He was the one who had asked for a divorce, so it was highly unlikely, but his reaction threw me.
‘Noah, are you pleased?’ asked my mother, implying that there was only one correct answer.
‘Um… yeah.’ It’s not that I wasn’t pleased, but I didn’t know Jean-Claude and now he would be moving in with us. ‘Congratulations.�
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‘Thank you. We will celebrate the wedding when we return to London. This time I will do it properly.’
‘There was nothing improper about getting married in Vegas,’ snorted my father in the background.
‘You got married in Vegas?’ I asked in disbelief. ‘Like rock-stars and crazy people?’
‘Magnus!’ screamed mum, as if he had given away details that could compromise national security.
His very mature response amounted to a shrug that she didn’t even get to see.
‘It’s all right, mum, you don’t need to keep things from me. I’m not a child anymore…’
She gave me a look that could have killed the Grim Reaper and I decided to put my speech on hold. ‘I should go,’ she said, pursing her lips. ‘Magnus, if you are there, don’t forget that you signed a non-disclosure agreement with regard to certain aspects of our life. You must observe it. Goodbye Noah.’
I wondered how much stuff my father wasn’t supposed to disclose. Her face vanished from the screen and I turned towards him. ‘Vegas?’
The memory made him smile. ‘We eloped.’
‘Mum? Eloped?’
He nodded. ‘Before the wedding, she gave an Elvis impersonator a lecture on the dangers of high-cholesterol.’
I burst out laughing. In spite of the recent, unsettling revelations, I had laughed more often in a short stay with him, than in a lifetime with mum. This was a perfect opportunity for rebuilding bridges. ‘I’m sorry about the other night.’
‘And I’m sorry I wasn’t a good father.’
Typical dad, simple and straight to the point. Awkwardness lingered in the air, but I was glad we had re-established a connection. He fiddled with a paperclip, I pulled at a loose thread in my t-shirt. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Knut?’ I asked, as non-confrontationally as possible.
He chewed his lip. ‘I was going to. I just wanted to get to know you better first, give you a chance to settle in properly. The timing of his call was unfortunate.’
