December 20
Borghild Berg was closing the large book she had in her lap when the library door opened and Ingrid came in.
“Good morning, Ingrid!”
“Good morning, Nana!”
Ingrid looked determined as she crossed the room with long strides. She seemed a little tense, and it was no wonder, Borghild
thought. She was impressed that her granddaughter was even on her feet at all after the dramatic events of the past few days.
It was also the Friday before Christmas.
Ingrid sat down next to her grandmother and put a hand on her arm.
“Nana, I went to see Freya Wilkins yesterday. She’s almost unrecognizable. It seems like she’s in shock. She was so quiet . . . It was totally unlike her. But she said something that made me curious. She mentioned a picture of her mother. She said she had to see it again. What did she mean by that? Why does she think we have a picture of her mother here?”
Nana Borghild was silent for a while.
“I’m going to tell you about that picture,” she said at last. “But there’s so much to tell, and I need time to convey it properly.
It’s time for you to understand how everything is connected. But I think we’ll have to do it later. There are so many interruptions
here, and new guests will be arriving soon. I’ll be able to explain it better when we’re not so busy.”
This statement didn’t make Ingrid any less curious, but Nana Borghild was probably right. This was neither the time nor place.
The guests would soon be at the door, and the mysteries of the past would have to be set aside for the time being. The future
of the hotel depended on the guests who were expected soon, no matter what stories were hidden behind old paintings and no
matter what nefarious plans Hallgrim Dalen and his cronies might have. Ingrid, Borghild, and the staff needed to concentrate
on what they could do now .
For this pre-Christmas weekend, Ingrid had made arrangements with Dalen Transport for a bus from the train station for the
guests who weren’t driving their own cars, and one family was expected on the train arriving in Dalen at 10:04 a.m. When the
minibus pulled up in front of the hotel at half past ten, the main door was open, the banister was decorated with pine branches,
and the fireplace was crackling merrily in the library.
Maja had lunch preparations well underway, Alfred was ready to carry in the luggage, and Ingrid felt a sense of calmness. This was what she’d been preparing for. It was like before, when she was climbing; everything was a jumble of nerves, anxiety, fear, preparations, and noise in her head—until she was standing there at the base of the rock face she was about to climb, took the first step, and was up on the wall . Then her mind went quiet, and she concentrated on the holds, the way up, what she’d been practicing, what she knew she had
to do.
And what she had to do now was welcome the guests and make sure they found their rooms, were fed, and felt well taken care
of. She waited for them at the reception desk, inhaled the scent of the pine needles from the decorations and the gingerbread
in the baskets on the tables, and put on her warmest smile. “Welcome to Glitter Peak Lodge!”
Suddenly, Nana Borghild was standing next to her.
Ingrid almost jumped; she’d been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed her grandmother had come out.
“This isn’t half bad, is it?” Borghild asked. “Being able to welcome people like this?”
Ingrid pulled her grandmother close.
“Nope, not bad at all,” she said.
***
A couple of Japanese tourists who’d been disappointed when they found out there were not, in fact, any polar bears on mainland
Norway had nevertheless gotten some consolation when they came to the library and found Barry, with whom they could take pictures.
He was almost as good as a polar bear. And Ingrid told them they might even be lucky enough to see reindeer when they were here. Surely that must be just as exciting? “And the northern lights?” they asked. Yes, they shouldn’t discount the possibility of seeing those, either. She couldn’t guarantee anything, but sometimes they did sparkle beautifully over the mountains up here. She showed them an app where you could check the probability of seeing the northern lights wherever you were. The tourists were busy with that until the food was served.
They’d never had so many guests for lunch before. In addition to the new arrivals, the “veteran” guests, Pia P and Mr. and
Mrs. Wilkins, were sitting at a separate table. Freya seemed to have recovered at least somewhat. Her blond locks were brushed
and sprayed into place, and she was wearing a colorful knitted sweater. She was taking careful bites from a plate of mountain
trout with cucumber salad.
After the regular service was over, Nana Borghild and Ingrid ate in the kitchen with Hussein and the rest of the staff. Hussein
had insisted on going to school even though he was exhausted from everything he’d been through and had splints on both his
wrist and ankle. After all, it was the last day of school before Christmas. He’d come home with a colorful card from his classmates— GET WELL HUSSEIN! YOU’RE AWESOME — and a bag full of Christmas decorations that he’d made himself. Ingrid promised he’d get his own small Christmas tree that
he and Aisha could hang them on. She made a mental note to ask Alfred to get one tomorrow, when he’d be going out to get the
big Christmas tree with the guests anyway.
The afternoon passed quickly. She glanced at the clock—it was already past four. She hadn’t heard from Vegard yet. He said
he was going to text when he and David left Oslo, but she knew that it would take some time. It would probably be pretty late
when they finally got here, but there wasn’t anything she could do about that. They’d get here when they got here. She just
hoped nothing went wrong at the last minute. She had to have her best friend here with her this weekend.
***
It was half past nine. The dinner service was over, and many of the guests had made their way to the bar, while the oldest
and youngest had retired to their rooms. The guests had praised the food, and Sunny and the kitchen assistants had been running
in and out all evening refilling plates, which were empty again before they knew it.
Maja was red in the face from exertion, but now the rush was over, and she and Ingrid were the only ones left in the kitchen.
Ingrid decided to use the occasion to ask some more questions about the disappearance. There were some things she still couldn’t
quite wrap her head around.
The chef turned toward her and wiped her hands on her apron. “Hallgrim Dalen’s sister? That was before my time.”
“Can you tell me whatever you do know?” Ingrid asked. “It seems like... people would rather not talk about it.”
What she actually meant was that her grandmother didn’t want to talk about Charlotte Dalen.
The chef glanced at the door and moved a pot off the stove before pulling out a chair and sitting down. “It’s probably something
that’s difficult for people to talk about,” she said. “Maybe those who knew her thought it was better to forget about the
whole thing. It must have been terrible for everyone when she disappeared. She was very young, after all, only a teenager.”
“But have you heard anything about what might have happened? What do people in the village think?”
“No one knows anything for sure,” Maja said. “But there have been a lot of rumors about the case. Some claim she ran off, that she had a boyfriend her family refused to let her be with. Others believe she was the victim of some kind of crime. But most people seem to think she killed herself—jumped into the waterfall. And that wasn’t something you talked about in those days.”
“But why would she do that?” Ingrid asked.
“There were rumors that she was pregnant,” Maja said. “And that the man she was marrying wasn’t the father.”
***
The kitchen assistants had cleared out the dining room and gotten the rest of the night off, and Vegard and David’s food was
ready to be reheated whenever they arrived—since there was still no sign of them.
“I’ll just head up to my room for now,” Pia P said. Ingrid thought she looked a bit downcast; she’d probably also been looking
forward to her friends’ arrival. Maybe she’d even dressed up a bit more. Ingrid had admired Pia’s white wool dress and noticed
that she’d done her hair extra nicely tonight. Now, almost the whole evening had passed. Pia walked up the stairs quite heavily,
holding onto the railing.
Ingrid sent Vegard a text and got a response that they were “ pretty close! I think! ”
It was half past ten before David’s car pulled up outside the hotel. Ingrid had kept herself busy at the reception desk while
she waited. She heard the music from the car before it was abruptly turned off, and Ingrid opened the main doors to welcome
the guests. The torches were still lit along the staircase, creating a luminous path in the December darkness.
David opened the door, stepped out of the car, lifted a hand in greeting, and went to the back to open the trunk. Vegard jumped out of the passenger side and sprang up the stairs to give Ingrid a hug. He was finally back! She felt relief flood through her.
“You’ll be staying in the Peer Gynt Suite!” she said as she hugged David. She handed him a key card. “Do you need any help
with the bags?”
“No, thanks, it’s fine,” Vegard said. “We’ll just go upstairs and drop off our stuff, and I’ll tell Pia we’re here.”
Okay, so far, so good , Ingrid thought when she’d finally landed in her own bed. If this crucial weekend were a mountain trip, they’d be just starting
the ascent.