smiled and sat down next to him, opening her laptop and keying in a website address she’d found earlier for a lodge in Sweden.
‘Where’s that? It looks beautiful,’ he said, looking over at the snowy scene.
‘Abisko,’ she said. ‘It’s in the Arctic Circle.’
‘Bloody cold then.’
‘Yes, well at the moment it is. I was thinking of going. It will be so peaceful, less than a hundred people live there. I thought it might be a great place to include in my book.’ She clicked through some pictures on the site. ‘It’s a fascinating place. For three months in the summer the sun never goes down, and in winter it doesn’t come up.’
‘You want to go somewhere where it’s dark all the time?’ He looked bewildered.
She smiled. ‘There’s about five hours of daylight at the moment, which will be plenty to take lots of photos,’ she said. ‘It’s not until December and January that the sun doesn’t come up.’ She paused, searching his face, unsure if he minded her going. ‘I don’t have to go. I have just been away.’
‘When were you thinking of taking off?’
‘Well, I’d like to try and finish my book by the end of the year, and Scandinavia would be the perfect final chapter, don’t you think?’
‘It would, yes.’ His tone was even.
‘I was thinking maybe the second week in November. Perhaps you could come with me.’ But her words were empty, and she felt mean even saying them. She knew he couldn’t get time off work at short notice.
He shrugged and shook his head. ‘I can try to get it off, but I doubt I will,’ he said, confirming her thoughts. ‘Plus the cold freaks me out.’ He broke into a smile. ‘There’s my recurring freezer dream to consider.’
She smiled too, but knew there was more to it than that. He’d told her how as a six-year-old he’d climbed into the chest freezer to get an iced lolly, and the lid had fallen down on him and locked.
‘Mum had fallen asleep,’ he’d told Isla a while back. ‘Pissed, I realised later. I was always left to my own devices. If Dad hadn’t come back, I’d have died.’ The trauma had stayed with him. He hated the cold.
‘Did you know that it only takes seventy seconds to freeze your little finger,’ he said, holding his finger close to his face. ‘Must depend on the size of your finger, I guess.’
‘Good God, Jack, please don’t tell me you’ve tested out that theory.’
‘No, of course not – I read it on the Internet.’
‘Must be true then,’ she said, with an air of sarcasm.
‘Yeah it is, some physiologist experimented on himself. I wonder if your finger becomes brittle, like ice?’
‘Please stop talking.’
He laughed and looked into her eyes. ‘Go to Sweden, Isla,’ he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. ‘It’s time to finish your book.’
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Friday, 28 October, 2 a.m.
So here are a few more photos of Canada. I hope you like them. My next adventure will be Sweden in November, so watch this space for more news on that.
Andy called. Said he hasn’t been able to come to the UK because something’s come up. He wouldn’t say what. It was so good to hear his voice, but not those words. I told him I’m going to Abisko, and he said maybe we could meet there, if he doesn’t get over to the UK.
If he doesn’t get to the UK.
I desperately need to see him now. I miss him so much it hurts. I told him that, and he said I wasn’t to worry, that he loves me, that he will be with me soon.
I’m so close to telling Jack. But it’s hard. Maybe once Andy is here I’ll be able to come right out and tell him. I feel wretched that I’m not being fair on Jack. Am I a horrible person? God, how I want to give way to the tears.
I’m not sure I want to go out tomorrow night to this ridiculous reunion. Do I really want to see Trevor again? Do I need that complication in my life right now?
But then what if Ben can help me with my book? I’d be a fool to miss a chance like that.
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Friday, 28 October
‘So you’re going on another holiday, you lucky thing. Where’s Abisko?’
‘Sweden, but it’s not exactly a holiday, Millie.’ Isla tugged the kinks from her hair with her straighteners, catching her sister’s eye in the black-framed mirror above the fireplace. ‘It’s work.’
‘OK, if you say so.’ Millie smiled from the sofa, where Luna was purring on her knee. Her hair was scraped back in a haphazard ponytail, and she’d gained weight, despite her dieting efforts. Isla thought curvy suited her, but Millie had never been happy with her appearance. And now her acne was playing up again, a cluster of angry spots on her chin, cruel at almost forty.
‘It really is work,’ Isla insisted. ‘I’m paying for the trip with a couple of commissions, and hoping to finish my book while I’m there.’
‘So, have you got a publisher yet?’
Isla shook her head, eyes still on her sister. ‘No, although I admit I haven’t really tried,’ she said, sighing as she bent to turn off the fake-flicker fire. It was burning her legs. Making them red. She glanced over her shoulder. ‘I feel bad that you’ve come over when I’m going out.’
‘It’s OK, I just felt like popping in and surprising you.’ Millie smiled again. ‘You look lovely by the way.’ She bit into a biscuit, crumbs sprinkling her tracksuit bottoms. ‘You always look lovely.’
‘What? No, I don’t.’ Isla turned back to the mirror and screwed up her face, never seeing herself as attractive.
‘Actually, I should get back soon to cook dinner,’ Millie said. ‘Did I tell you Abigail’s gone vegan? I’m trying a cashew and mushroom korma tonight.’
‘Bless her. How is my lovely niece?’
‘Fine, although sometimes things seemed easier when she was younger. But I guess that’s true for all parents of teens.’ Especially those with a child with Asperger’s. ‘She seems so grown up at times. She likes a boy she met at the chess club she goes to, but, on the other hand, she’s still
