‘To sea? Uh, I don’t know.’ The hectic colour in the young man’s cheeks owed nothing to the temperature in the saloon, which was on the chilly side, though none of them had remarked on the fact or dared ask Thráinn to turn up the heating. ‘I suppose so.’
‘Are you from the countryside?’ Lára smiled, pretending not to notice his reluctance to engage with her.
‘Nope. Kópavogur.’
‘Oh.’ Lára fiddled with her hair and racked her brains for something else to say. ‘Are you a family man?’
‘No, not yet.’ Halli sneaked a look under one of the piles and risked taking off the top card. ‘It’d be difficult, what with me spending so much time at sea.’
Lára seized on the fact that his answers had become less monosyllabic, spying an opening to penetrate his shell. ‘Wouldn’t you like to change job then?’
Halli made a dismissive noise. ‘And do what?’ He gave Lára a puzzled glance. ‘It’s perfectly possible to work at sea without being away as much as I am.’ He immersed himself in his game of patience again, once more stealing glimpses under the piles. ‘The big trawlers pay better but then the tours are longer. And it depends what the catch is like too, of course; you can be lucky or unlucky. That’s true whatever the size of vessel.’
‘Are you saving up for something?’ Lára smiled encouragingly, though he didn’t seem to notice. ‘Are you maybe thinking of putting a roof over your head?’
‘What? What for?’ The colour in Halli’s cheeks deepened. ‘No. I’m saving up for something else.’
Ægir felt an urge to come to his rescue by changing the subject but all that came to mind was the question that had been consuming him ever since he had found the body. ‘If the British ship has reported the discovery of the woman’s body, won’t there be a big furore when we get home? Police interviews and all that?’
‘Probably.’ Apparently Halli wasn’t going to take advantage of this conversational lifebelt. ‘I guess we’ll soon find out.’
Ægir hastily interjected again, before Lára could pounce from the sidelines with further personal questions. ‘How can we let them know when we’re arriving in port if the radiotelephone can’t be repaired?’
‘We’ll show up on their radar as soon as we approach land. If they received the message I expect they’ll have a reception committee waiting. We won’t be allowed to go straight home, that’s for certain. So you can forget about smuggling your wine ashore.’
Ægir’s heart sank. This was not what he wanted to hear. He could think of nothing he wanted less than a homecoming marred by police interrogations and a customs clampdown. His dream of being greeted on the threshold by the familiar smell of home, of sleeping in their own bed, faded. Why the hell hadn’t they simply flown back? Taking advantage of his silence, Lára leapt in and returned to her line of questioning. ‘Anyway, what were you saying – what are you saving up for?’
From Halli’s expression one would have thought Lára had asked him to strip off. Ægir was astonished that she should be oblivious to the fact that this diffident young man had no wish to talk to her at all, let alone answer such personal questions. Usually she was much more adept than Ægir at reading social situations. Perhaps her fury with him had blunted her instincts.
‘I’m saving up for a motorboat. With a mate of mine.’
‘Great.’ Ægir smiled encouragingly at Halli who had given up on his game of patience, in spite of his cheating. The yacht bucked and rolled, and Ægir doubted he would ever want a motorboat, even if he were offered one for free. He was fed up with the sea, with the constant wallowing and pitching, and was pretty sure that his former dreams of owning a share in a small sailing boat would never be resurrected now. The money would go towards something else: a new car, foreign holidays, some decent jewellery for Lára; anything really, so long as it had nothing to do with boats. It was ironic then that he seemed to have developed his sea legs at last, thanks no doubt to the captain’s pills, and the ship’s incessant rocking no longer bothered him the way it had for the first two days. He had begun to ride the waves instinctively, as if he and the yacht were one. Perhaps he would find that the land was moving up and down when and if they reached Iceland. The smile faded from his face as he tried to work out where that if had come from. Of course they would reach land safely. He forced his mind back to the conversation. ‘I’m sure you’ll be successful.’
‘Hope so.’ Halli stood up, walked over to the window and stared out, as if he expected to see something other than the infinite ocean. In profile he looked despondent and Ægir wondered if the young sailor also had his doubts about their chances of reaching home safely. ‘I sure hope so,’ Halli repeated.
Lára shifted impatiently on the sofa, annoyed with Ægir for butting in on the conversation. She licked her lips as was her habit when she was considering her next move. ‘Do you know what the weather forecast is like, Halli? I was thinking of taking the girls up on deck for some fresh air, so I was hoping this storm would die down soon.’
Halli didn’t look round. ‘I reckon it’ll stay like this all day. That’s what generally happens. It’s the good weather that changes quickly.’
Ægir reached across the sofa and tentatively took Lára’s hand. She didn’t reject him and that was the sign he had been waiting for, the sign that soon he would be forgiven. Exactly how the process worked remained a mystery to him; he was simply grateful that his punishment was over. The situation on board was disastrous enough without his having to tiptoe around Lára as well. He risked moving closer to sit beside her and was relieved when she didn’t object. Daring now to take the next step in the reconciliation process, he cuddled up to her and whispered an apology in her ear, adding that he needed to tell her something that was rather serious but not dangerous. This last comment went completely against his intuition; given recent developments, it looked as if they might indeed be in very real danger on board.
It had been bad enough that there was a body in the freezer, but at least its presence there had seemed to be unconnected to them. But now that an unknown person had taken the trouble to throw the body overboard, it was clear that the culprit was still on board and that he was trying to protect his interests. Perhaps he had needed to dispose of the body in case it carried traces of his DNA or some other evidence that could implicate him. The thought filled Ægir with such misgiving that, reluctantly, he had decided he would have to share it with Lára. Of course it would be better to pretend nothing had happened, but that would be neither right nor fair: he was so afraid she might unwittingly act in a manner that would cause the culprit to feel threatened. He met her wide, questioning eyes. ‘What?’ she asked aloud, and Halli glanced round, as if he thought she was addressing him. He turned back to the window when Lára ignored him and repeated her question. ‘What? Is anything wrong?’