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She wanted to know him better, and yet, she knew that wouldn’t come without a cost. The thought of Magnús pitying her then trying to persuade her to reach out and contact her loved ones back home overwhelmed her thoughts, and she shook them away.
‘You’re not opening your bookshop this morning? Now that Tom’s saved the boat and I have all my stuff here, you don’t have to stay.’ She sprang to her feet, putting her hand against the papers and pictures in her pocket. It was pitiful, really. So little to show for a life.
‘My bookshop?’ Magnús stood too and shook out his jacket. ‘Almost all the guests from the pub left when the storm hit, and the reports of another weather front coming in won’t have tourists rushing back. I have no customers. I heard on the radio this morning they’ve named the second storm now, Storm Nora. They don’t name an approaching storm unless it’s going to cause trouble. And anyway, the locals are busy getting ready for Christmas, and they don’t seem to need books either. I have nothing to do.’
‘Rubbish, you have a whole shop to play in.’
Magnús’s voice was abrupt. ‘I don’t want to play at being a shopkeeper.’
Alex squinted at him.
‘Ugh, OK.’ Magnús’s shoulders dropped an inch as he exhaled. ‘It’s a long story but I didn’t choose to be here, not really. Now I’m here I don’t know what to do with myself.’
‘I get it. You feel like you’re holding a treasure map but there’s no X marking the spot,’ Alex said, looking down at her boots.
‘Exactly. I feel, I feel…stefnulaus?’
‘Lost?’ Alex guessed.
‘Aimless.’
‘Ah! That’s it. Nail on the head. I’m the runaway, you’re the castaway. We’re both a bit stef-la-noose.’ She pronounced it terribly to make him smile again and it worked.
‘Já,’ Magnús agreed. ‘So what do you want to do now?’
She fixed her eyes on the tiny dot of theDagalien. ‘I need to get my phone working. If itcanwork again. I’ll go see if Jowan has a charger.’
They started the walk back, slow and reluctant.
‘Listen.’ Magnús sounded cautious. ‘I know you can’t tell me about yourself and I’m sure you have good reasons, but I can help you if you want it. They,’ he tipped his head towards the harbour, ‘don’t have to know. I can keep a secret.’
This set all of Alex’s instincts and feelings warring against each other again.
‘There is something you can help with,’ she said, looking for a way out of the maelstrom.
‘Name it.’
‘You can take me to the donkey thing this afternoon.’
‘Í guðanna bænum!’ he laughed. ‘You know about this too? What is it with everyone and donkeys around here?’
‘We can go?’
‘We can go. I don’t think we have any choice, but yes, let’s go.’
Slowly they walked back to the harbour, making the smallest of small talk, and Alex felt her resolve weakening with each step, the words threatening to spill out:I’ve lost my family, and my second family; now I’m alone and I’ve nothing to offer anyone. I’ve wrecked my dad’s boat, put myself out of a job, and I can’t bear the idea of being alone for Christmas so I’m hiding out here, terrified you’ll all send me back home when you realise who I am. There! I’m not what you think I am. Spent my twenties playing at being an adult. Never even left England. Slept with one man and he cheated on me. Had one best friend and she betrayed me. I’m a shipwreck of a person. Hollow and sad. How’d you like me now, Magnús Sturluson?
