The man’s expression did not alter; his eyes remained fixed on something behind Ægir. ‘I’ve told you my opinion. I strongly object to taking kids along on this trip. You never know what they’ll get up to. As I made clear on the phone, now that it turns out you’re not travelling alone I’d rather have hired a local.’
Lára and the girls came over, the twins grinning above their glasses of fizzy orange as they took care not to spill the contents. ‘I’m aware of that,’ Ægir assured him, ‘and we’ll keep an eye on them. The girls will be our responsibility. So, it’s okay, then?’
The man grunted. ‘Did I miss something? Do I have any choice?’
‘No, not really.’ Ægir took Bylgja’s glass and placed it on the table. Arna put her drink down with less care and a small orange puddle formed around the base. Lára wiped up the mess immediately, as if to demonstrate that they would treat the yacht with respect.
‘Will you have room for us, Thráinn?’ She gave the captain a charming smile. Ægir hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell her about their disagreement. For all she knew, the man was well disposed towards them. ‘I haven’t seen the boat yet but Ægir tells me she’s amazing.’
‘Yes, we should have. There are enough empty cabins, if you can call them cabins. They’re more like staterooms. The boys and I are so stuck in our ways that we automatically took the crew quarters, so you’ll have several cabins to choose from. No one should have any cause for complaint.’
‘Are there boys on board?’ Arna made a face as she released the straw. The day was still a long way off when the girls would go crazy about the opposite sex.
‘Well, they seem like boys to me, but you’ll probably think they’re grown-up men.’ To Ægir’s relief, the captain winked at Arna. Once they were at sea their little teething troubles would no doubt be forgotten. ‘They’re in their twenties.’ He winked at Arna again. ‘And both a bit soft in the head.’
‘Oh.’ Arna giggled. ‘What are their names?’
‘One’s called Halli – short for Halldór, I guess – and the other’s known as Loftur, because he’s lofty.’
Arna didn’t understand this attempt at humour and frowned. ‘He’s joking, darling.’ Ægir put an arm round her shoulders in case she showed signs of answering back. ‘Loftur’s his proper name, and neither of them is really soft in the head.’ In fact, he hadn’t a clue whether the man was joking. Perhaps the boys were idiots, though if so he doubted the committee would have hired them. Thráinn, at any rate, came very highly recommended. He hadn’t seen the reference himself as he hadn’t been involved in hiring the crew, but the committee would presumably have chosen a crack team for a trip with such a valuable vessel at stake. ‘How’s the man who was injured?’
The captain scowled again. ‘I don’t suppose the stupid bastard’s having much fun. Broken his leg, apparently. No doubt during a pub crawl, though his friend Halli denies it. That lot can’t be trusted to set foot in a foreign port without getting smashed out of their skulls. He’s on his way home now, I hear. And you’re taking his place.’ A sardonic smile accompanied his words. ‘And bringing an army along for the ride.’
‘Yup. It’s your lucky day.’ Ægir would have liked to say more but bit his tongue. He didn’t want the girls to witness a quarrel, even one disguised as pleasantries.
Bylgja sat in silence, watching the captain. The only sound she made was a quiet slurping as she drank her orangeade. She was a pretty sharp judge of character and Ægir longed to know what she was thinking, but it would have to wait.
Ægir and Lára had assumed they had plenty of time to get ready, but in the event the family turned up at the harbour nearly half an hour later than arranged. As a result there was no time to admire the white yacht from shore, though Lára did remark that she was much larger than she had expected. There was a mad scramble to carry the stores on board, but his wife was too anxious about leaving the girls behind on the docks to be of much use. Neither Thráinn nor the two younger men lifted a finger to help. They lounged against the pilot house, watching the family’s activities with suppressed grins. By the time the last box was on board, Ægir was in a muck-sweat and longing to root around in their shopping for a beer. But judging by the face the captain had made when he’d appeared carrying a case of wine, this would not be a good idea. At least, not straight away.
‘Well, well.’ Thráinn came over to where Ægir stood panting beside the provisions. His gaze fell again on the wine, which happened to be at the front and therefore embarrassingly conspicuous. ‘It’ll make quite a difference to this job to have passengers along for a pleasure trip. I hope you aren’t under the illusion that we’re your staff.’ He nodded towards Halli and Loftur, who were looking on impassively. ‘I know what I said, but you may have to take the odd watch, so it wouldn’t do for you to drink too much.’
‘Don’t worry.’ Ægir didn’t intend to let the man rile him. ‘I won’t overdo it, and we’ll cook for ourselves. For you too, if you’d like.’ He hoped the man’s attitude would soften; they had a long voyage ahead of them and however spacious the yacht, it would soon become claustrophobic if there was a poisonous atmosphere. He watched Lára and the twins easing their way down into the boat. The gleaming deck emitted a hollow boom as Arna landed, as if the yacht were nothing but a shell – handsome packaging around an empty space. Ægir knew this wasn’t true, but the sound reverberated in his head and he couldn’t help thinking that under all the surface gloss the yacht was little more than a tub. But since his own experience of seagoing craft amounted to the battered dinghy on which he had taken his competency certificate and a small boat belonging to his cousin, perhaps he simply didn’t know how to appreciate quality.
He helped his wife and daughters on board and was surprised to find Lára’s palm sweaty, though the temperature had dropped as evening fell. In contrast, Bylgja’s hands felt cold and dry.
‘Will you look at this?’ Lára drank in her surroundings, grinning from ear to ear. She handed him his briefcase, which had been entrusted to the girls at their request, and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Wow.’ Seen up close, the ship appeared even bigger and swankier than she had from the quay, though most of the furnishings and equipment on deck were swathed in white covers and there was not actually much to see. Nevertheless, it was possible to glimpse the shapes of the items under the canvas, which gave an idea of how the deck would usually look.
‘This is incredible.’ Lára went forward and peered under a cover draped over what appeared to be a table and a set of bench seats lining the bows. ‘Look. We can eat out here.’ She addressed her words to the girls who were gazing around, wide-eyed. Arna seemed as enthusiastic as her mother but Bylgja’s glasses gave her a remote look that was harder for Ægir to fathom. Still, he was used to being unsure what was going on in her head. Her features often wore a stony expression, but for the moment she seemed curious about the amenities on board, which was a good sign. Lára had noticed too and cheerfully began to pull the covers off the furniture. ‘This is going to be great.’
‘I don’t know if that’s a good idea. It’ll be cold once we’re under way and you won’t be doing much sitting or eating outside.’ Thráinn was standing in the doorway of the pilot house. It was admirable how he managed to suppress the irritation in his voice. ‘Better leave them be as it’s a bit tricky to fix the covers so they don’t leak.’