Chapter 23
Alicia
Alicia’s head lolled forward and she jerked awake for the fourth or fifth time this flight.
Since Jamie left the hotel, she had struggled to fall asleep, either from the lack of his presence or lack of sex.
Days had been spent sitting on her porch slugging thick black coffee, to capture the spirit of the man and to stay awake.
But it was a poor substitute so she gave up, checked out of the hotel two days after Jamie and decided to go home via another country altogether.
Now, exhaustion blurred her focus on the dramatic scenery below, the angular peaks of Norway’s mountains jutting across the horizon, like out of focus sisters of those in Scotland.
Both Scotland and Norway held an emotional significance for Alicia: Norway connected her to her childhood, to holidays spent forgetting herself deep in its forests, Scotland to the man she had spent a week losing herself in and would struggle to forget.
How could it be that she was halfway to falling in love with Jamie yet would never see him again?
She couldn’t shake the feeling they had missed an opportunity.
As the plane descended into Bergen airport, she regained some vigour. This was the place of her ancestors, of idyllic childhood memories and the home of one of her favourite people ever. There was lots to be grateful for.
For several hours Alicia steered her hire car through winding, wintery, spruce-fringed roads.
The radio cut in and out, but she was content with her own company.
Mid-afternoon, high in the mountains, she pulled up in front of a large wooden house, similar in some ways to the lodge she’d been staying at in Scotland.
This place held her heart. So many of her fondest childhood memories rested here, and glimpsing the front of the house roused them.
It was as if she had only popped out to the shops ten minutes ago to buy some sugar.
Not that you could do that here. The nearest shop was some miles away.
But in this tiny corner of the world where time seemed to stand still, Alicia was swaddled in an overwhelming embrace of safety and belonging.
Speaking of overwhelming embraces, as soon as she set eyes on her grandmother, Astrid, in the doorway of her home, Alicia was being enveloped in a toasty and vibrant hug. The woman was in her seventies but spilled over with sprightliness and life.
‘Come in, come in. I have hot chocolate on the stove.’ Astrid hurried Alicia into the warmth of her lounge, where one could marvel through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows – a more recent modification to the traditional property – at the vast expanse of snow-dusted spruce trees.
The peaks of timeless, majestic mountains dominated the background, their jagged, snow-capped summits jutting into the clear sky.
Like Alicia, her grandmother was an artist and much of her work was on display around the house.
Alicia’s grandfather had passed away twelve years previous, and Astrid enjoyed a simple life not dissimilar to that she had with her husband, painting, keeping the house in shape, making bread and hosting visits from friends and family.
‘I’m sorry it’s been so long since I last visited.’ Alicia cupped her hand thrown mug which was filled with hot chocolate made by blending slowly heated milk with the finest Norwegian dark chocolate.
Astrid gave a casual shrug. ‘What have you to apologise for, my darling? You’ve been busy.’
Alicia knew her grandmother was sincere, but when she mentioned Alicia being busy, did that mean that busy fending off the Chad fallout? About the photos.
‘Yes, I have, but possibly I should have taken a break sooner. For my own sanity. And you are such a tonic, Bestemor. Just sitting here with you is like medicine.’
‘I am glad, but let me ask, why do you need medicine? What is it that ails you?’
Perhaps Astrid didn’t know. After all, why would she?
Nobody in the family was going to call her up and tell her, and this was such a remote part of the country that electricity ran off generators and many people eschewed the internet.
Moreover, even if her grandmother had access to the web, she’d be unlikely to spend time searching her own relatives.
‘Do you mind if we don’t talk about it?’ Alicia asked. ‘I would rather enjoy this blissful place and lovely company.’
‘Of course, my darling. Let’s focus on only the good things and fire up your soul, which I sense is dampened, although there’s a spark there still.’ Astrid reached over to her granddaughter.
Alicia examined her grandmother’s hand laid across her own, older but still elegant and graceful with naturally manicured nails that she nourished only with oils.
When Alicia was younger she would pretend to read her grandmother’s palm, as if she desired also to possess the heightened intuition Astrid had for people’s souls.
Possibly she had it already, the whole family did, hence the acting ability, but what Alicia believed more than anything was that to understand anyone else’s soul you had to be keenly aware of your own.
What she wanted right now was to be stripped back to her purest self, understand it, and rebuild who she was again.
‘You’re right as ever. My spirit is a bit damp. But I’m sure that being here will rekindle my spark.’
‘Oh, I will make sure of it. I have a few things planned for us. All enjoyable, of course.’ Astrid was never one to sit idle without a purpose.
She knew that even peaceful activities could be constructive, and believed that moments spent sitting weren’t wasted if they allowed the mind to relax. Like a certain Scotsman Alicia knew.
Nursing their hot chocolates, Alicia and her grandmother chatted for a little longer about painting and family and Christmas, which Astrid would spend with her other son’s family in Oslo. Naturally, the time came when she enquired about Alicia’s trip to Scotland.
‘I wanted somewhere to unwind at the last minute,’ Alicia explained. ‘Somewhere biting and blustery to waken me up. And please don’t be offended that I didn’t come here first. I was nobody’s company last week.’ Well, I was in the end but it wasn’t part of the plan.
‘Oh, I’m not offended at all. Did Scotland help?’
‘Oh, it definitely did.’ She tried to think of something solemn to stop herself from grinning but when her grandmother beamed broadly and knowingly, the joy broke free from its shackles.
‘And is he handsome?’ Astrid enquired.
Alicia surprised herself at how hearty her laughter was. ‘Yes, and a lot more besides. Down to earth, unassuming, broad-minded, appreciates the simple things.’
‘Ah. He sounds like a catch. Would he not have liked a little holiday to Norway?’
‘Possibly, but he has a business to run in Scotland – a distillery – and my life is in LA.’
‘Well, that is a shame because he appears to light you up like a Christmas tree. And a distillery owner, too. Did you not think of your poor bestemor and how much she might like some free whisky?’
Alicia chuckled. ‘I will order you a bottle. And he does, did… make me very happy. I didn’t go to Scotland to meet a man, but meeting one helped forget myself and remember some nice things about myself too. So that is a win.’
‘Well, I hope to learn more about him.’ Astrid didn’t probe further.
Her style was listening, allowing a person to notice their own thoughts then make choices.
Alicia appreciated the chance to communicate more intuitively and wondered if she might tell her grandmother more about Jamie.
Her not asking made Alicia itch to talk about him.
That evening Alicia and Astrid watched old movies with family members in them.
‘Oh, that moves me to tears every time.’ Astrid sniffed as the credits rolled on a film with Alicia’s mother and Connor in it.
‘And every time I notice something new.’ She wiped her eye.
‘I will never forget when I heard that they both had been nominated for an Oscar. An award for you one day too, maybe?’
‘Ah.’ Alicia tucked her feet under her legs and curled the blanket over her shoulders. The fire was dimming now and they hadn’t put any more wood on it as it was nearing bedtime. ‘Thanks, but I’m no actress.’
‘Because you don’t wish to be or you do not believe in yourself?
Because if it is the latter, I believe you very much should.
I’ve seen you act, my darling, and you are a force of nature.
You have as much talent as the rest of the family.
Do not tell them I said this, but possibly even more because of your sensitive soul.
You could get your agent to get you some interesting roles. ’
‘No. I’m afraid that won’t be happening. I don’t think I have an agent anymore, for one thing.’
‘Would you like to talk about it?’ Astrid soothed Alicia’s shoulder with her warm hand.
Alicia shook her head. Telling her grandmother was the last thing she wanted to do.
How could an older person get their head around taking nude photos for a lover, never mind having them on the internet for all to see.
If even for a moment, her bestemor thought Alicia had chosen any of this, she would not be able to look the woman in the eye again.
But Astrid simply brushed invisible dust from Alicia’s shoulder and turned to the diminishing embers of the fire whilst draining the last of her herbal tea.
Alicia did the same. Calmness penetrated moment by moment and thinking about LA was like shovelling fresh snow and seeing the dirty ground below.
Was it spoiled to think her home town that way?
Or could it be time for somewhere vastly different to fulfil the home role?