Chapter 17
Lotta lay in bed the following morning debating whether to get up and put a couple of logs on the fire. It was freezing, and that was the answer, but getting out of bed would wake Mats, and he looked so peaceful sleeping next to her.
She’d surprised herself by how much she’d enjoyed the day before.
Obviously the weather was on their side, it would have been a different story if it had rained, but the island, the cabin, everything — apart from the toilet situation — was idyllic.
Could she live here? It was a question that had been turning around in her head all night because that was the reality of a future with Mats, whatever they may have said to each other last night.
He was going to live here. It was his plan, a plan that was already underway so not about to be derailed by a romance, and to some extent, written in the stars.
How much he believed in this place, sinking everything into it, not knowing whether it was going to work, that was something Lotta admired.
And envied. And right when he was taking this enormous risk, putting himself in such a vulnerable position after years of certainty, she was moving in the opposite direction. She wanted certainty.
She pulled the duvet further up, snuggling it around her chin.
What was written in her stars? She’d spent so long trying to build up her business, following that dream, it was strange to realise that perhaps her dream was actually coming true, and hard to believe that she could have that success and still have Mats.
He would want her to have both, and maybe she could?
Norway wasn’t that far from London and the island wasn’t that far from a city with an airport.
It was all possible. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something she hadn’t thought would come along and ruin it.
Then she’d be back to where she was before, with no career and no relationship.
When she’d been with Curtis, she’d had success in her career at the same time as what she’d thought was a successful relationship. Then, when she gave up her career to save her relationship, he’d said she’d lost her drive, and that was what he’d loved about her. So she’d lost both.
The truth was, she might be falling in love with the man lying next to her, but she knew she wasn’t about to hitch her wagon to his and ride into the sunset, leaving everything she’d worked for behind.
It had to be separate. He had to be separate from any decisions she might make about her future.
Mats, she knew, would never make her choose between her business and him, but he’d only ever seen this version of her, on the verge of success, happier than she’d been in a long time because things were finally happening for her.
But what about afterwards? What would he think if she wasn’t this shiny version of herself anymore?
No one else had wanted that Lotta before.
Mats stirred so Lotta seized the moment and climbed carefully out of the bed so as not to catapult Mats out of it at the same time with any sudden movement.
She already had a pair of his woolly socks on because he’d had the foresight to know they’d be cold last night, but the floor was cold enough to make it feel as if her feet were bare.
She opened the stove and put a couple of logs inside, hoping that the few glowing embers would be enough to get it going again.
Then she pulled on her coat and boots and headed to the cabin where their bucket was.
Unsurprisingly, it was even colder outside, and Lotta dreaded the thought of having to pull her leggings down to go to the loo. The sun was yet to rise completely, but the dusky light held the promise of another bright day.
She was perched on the bucket when she heard a shout.
She froze. It wasn’t Mats. It sounded further away than that.
And he’d still been asleep a minute ago.
She pulled her bottoms up and opened the door tentatively, then she heard the shout again.
She couldn’t make out what the man was saying, but who the hell was on the island anyway?
As she ran back to the cabin, she saw a man walking through the woods towards them. He raised a hand, but she didn’t wait to greet him. She burst through the door, breathless from adrenaline rather than exertion.
‘There’s someone here!’
Mats rubbed his eyes, blinking sleepily. ‘Okay.’ He sat up, looking entirely unconcerned.
‘No, there’s literally someone outside the cabin. Like they’ll be here any minute.’
‘It’s okay, Lotta.’ His sleepy smile was at odds with the emergency at hand. ‘You know about the right to roam laws in Norway? Anyone can come here, it’s fine.’
She frowned. She’d heard of that. ‘Even if you own a private island?’
‘Yes. Nothing is going to happen. We’ll just say hello. It’s good to know who’s here.’ He got out of bed and pulled his clothes on. The man shouted again, and Mats laughed. ‘It’s my brother, Fredrik!’
It was a relief to know the man wasn’t a total stranger, but why was he here? And if she’d known there was any chance of random people “roaming” around, she’d have been more wary, and definitely made Mats stand outside the door of the toilet cabin while she was in there.
She followed Mats out of the cabin.
‘How do you lose your kid on such a tiny island?’ He shouted in Norwegian but Lotta could understand.
Fredrik waved and walked towards them grinning. The brothers embraced, clapping each other on the back, then Fredrik said, ‘I’m sorry I scared you,’ in Norwegian.
‘You didn’t scare me,’ Lotta lied, in English.
‘You were running for fun?’
‘Fred,’ said Mats with a hint of warning in his voice.
‘It’s nice to meet you, Lotta. I’ve heard a lot about you from my sisters.’ He held out his hand and Lotta shook it, seeing a more playful version of Mats in his eyes. He had darker hair but the same bright blue eyes.
‘Good to meet you, too.’
‘So where is Emil?’ Mats asked, glancing around.
Fredrik shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He’ll be okay.’
‘How old is he?’ Lotta asked.
‘Six. Best if he runs around here and gets rid of some energy.’
Lotta wondered whether it was safe for a six-year-old to be running loose on an island with deep fjords surrounding it, but both men seemed unconcerned.
‘We may as well light the fire from last night,’ Mats said. ‘We won’t all fit in the cabin.’
‘Got any spare breakfast?’ Fredrik asked.
‘You got in the boat with Emil before you’d eaten?’ Mats asked.
‘No, of course not, but we’ve been up for hours. It’s alright for you lovebirds without a six-year-old here to be your alarm clock.’
Mats and Fredrik carried some logs through the woods to the grassy area where they’d had their dinner the night before, while Lotta followed behind with some blankets slung over her arm and their remaining food supplies.
It didn’t take long for the fire to get going with both of them tending it, and almost as soon as it was alight, a small blonde boy emerged from the trees at a hundred miles an hour.
‘Hey, Emil! Do you want some toast?’ Fredrik called to him.
‘Ja!’ he called and then disappeared again.
‘He’ll be back,’ said Fredrik. ‘So how was last night in your little cabin?’
‘Cosy,’ said Lotta, trying not to feel invaded.
‘Quiet,’ Mats said. ‘Until you two turned up. Why didn’t you call?’
‘I let Emil decide, and I didn’t know you were going to be here.’
‘You probably shouldn’t bring him here while we’re doing the building work,’ said Mats, finally being the voice of reason now he’d woken up properly. ‘In fact, let’s get him back here. There’s a lot of equipment over by the house.’
‘He won’t touch anything,’ Fredrik said, poking the fire with the stick they’d used for the marshmallows the night before.
‘Fred.’
The way Mats said his name meant there was no arguing. Fredrik rolled his eyes at his brother, but he got up and went to track his son down. Lotta could translate the shouting now she knew the boy was called Emil.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Mats said, pulling her in for a kiss. ‘Not the best way to introduce you to my younger brother and my nephew.’
‘It’s okay,’ she said, because what else could she say? They were his family.
‘It’s not, but it’s what you will come to expect from Fredrik. He is a single father most of the time, so we try to make allowances. Things can be tough for both of them.’
‘Where’s Emil’s mother?’
‘She’s an actress and had some success just before Emil was born. She and Fred agreed she should take the work while it was there, and she hasn’t really been back. Not for any amount of time, anyway.’
‘Where does she live?’
‘Los Angeles. She has a recurring part in a series and it seems they hardly have any time off.’
‘Does Emil see much of her?’
‘Fred tries to take him out there for holidays if she can’t get back here, but I think it’s hard for all of them slipping back into trying to be a family for a week here and there.’
‘That does sound difficult.’
It gave Lotta a different perspective on Fredrik, and she felt a little kinder towards him gatecrashing their weekend retreat. It must be hard to entertain a six-year-old on your own most of the time; no wonder he gave himself an easy life when he could.
Emil returned to the picnic area on his father’s shoulders, and they both sat next to the fire on a blanket.
‘This is Lotta,’ Fredrik said to him in Norwegian. ’She’s Uncle Mats’ friend, and she speaks English. You can speak English, can’t you?’
‘Hello Lotta,’ Emil said in perfect English, looking pleased with himself.
‘Hei Emil.’ She said it in her best Norwegian, and he looked impressed. She wished she could speak Norwegian as confidently as he spoke English. Perhaps she should practise on Mats.
‘Can I have a sausage, please?’ He was back to Norwegian, which was only to be expected.
‘If Uncle Mats will share with you.’
‘Please don’t worry about speaking English for me,’ she said.
‘It’s good practice for Emil,’ said Fredrik with a smile.
Once he’d had his sausage, Emil wandered around the edge of the woods picking up sticks to burn on the fire.
‘Thanks for the food,’ Fredrik said. ‘We’ll get going.’
‘Why don’t you stay and do some fishing?’ Mats said, surprising everyone.
‘You sure?’ Fredrik’s eyes flicked from Mats to Lotta and back again in an unspoken question to his brother.
‘I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’d rather watch than fish, anyway.’
At the back of their toilet cabin, Mats had stashed all sorts of things underneath a tarpaulin, including some fishing gear. Lotta hadn’t noticed since she’d been so speedy in there.
‘Did you bring this stuff from home?’ Fredrik asked.
‘No, it was from the farmhouse. I asked Knut to leave a few things behind when they cleared it. Just practical stuff.’
There were two rods and a tackle box that had seen better days, but the fact that it had belonged to Mats’ and Fredrik’s ancestors was pretty special.
‘Do you want to fish, Emil?’ Mats called to his nephew.
The little boy nodded vigorously and came over to help carry the equipment. Mats handed him a rod, and he followed Mats to the wooden deck at the water’s edge.
They’d obviously fished together before.
The two brothers and Emil prepared the rods quietly and methodically, as if the calm they needed to fish successfully had washed over all three of them.
Emil let Mats help him with his rod while Fredrik tossed his line into the water.
Watching the three of them together, she could see how Mats was just as much a part of Emil’s life as his father was, a support system for Fredrik.
She suspected Ida was the most involved with them since she was here, but maybe that was part of why Mats wanted to be closer to Bergen.
While they fished, Lotta heated some water on the fire and made mugs of hot chocolate for them all.
She carried them over to the deck, set one down next to Fredrik, whispered to Emil to let his cool for a few minutes, then sat down next to Mats, who was crouched behind Emil ready to lend a hand if he got a bite.
‘Thank you,’ he said, taking his mug from her. ‘You don’t mind that they stayed?’ He said it in a low voice so his nephew wouldn’t hear.
Lotta shook her head. ‘No. I’ve had the best time. It’s been great to meet more of your family.’
‘We’ll have to leave in a couple of hours.’ His eyes were sorrowful.
‘We can come back some other time.’
‘I can’t wait.’
Emil shattered the peace, shouting in excitement when Fredrik caught a fish.
It wasn’t huge, around thirty centimetres long, but it signalled the end of the fishing.
Fredrik gutted the fish while Emil watched.
Then they found a stick that had a fork in it and balanced the fish on top to cook over the fire.
Mats and Lotta collected the fishing equipment and took it back to the cabin to stow away.
‘Emil’s a great kid,’ Lotta said.
‘He is. Not when he’s running around my building site like a maniac,’ he laughed, ‘But I love fishing with him, showing him all the stuff we used to do as kids.’
‘Do you want children?’ After seeing him with Emil, she was pretty sure of the answer.
He nodded. ‘You?’
She nodded, and they both grinned at each other.
‘Leaving Oslo was supposed to help with that,’ Mats said. ‘You know, move to Bergen to be around my family, maybe meet someone, start a family.’ He wrapped his arms around her waist. ‘And then I met an English woman and my plans were blown out of the water.’
‘Half Norwegian,’ she said. ‘And your plans aren’t blown out of the water, they’re just taking a detour.’
‘Are you on the detour with me?’
That was the million dollar question and in her heart she knew what she wanted the answer to be.