Chapter Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Eight
My last night in the Norwegian wilds.
I wandered from the bedroom to the kitchen, then back into the lounge, staring out of the windows to breathe in each view and lock them in my memory.
A herd of reindeer were on the edge of the forest, chewing away on the willow tree leaves like they had all the time in the world.
Which of course, they did. It was just me who didn’t.
How could I hold on to this place and the feeling of peace it had given me?
I didn’t want to leave and let it go. I photographed every inch of the cabin so at least I’d have some pictures to look back on.
Had I really been here a whole month? A month that had desperately dragged for the first few days, then flown.
I looked around my cosy little nook and reluctantly pulled down my Louis Vuittons, embarrassed at the brashness of my matching designer luggage.
Their shiny gold zips were out of place next to the lovingly handmade wooden furniture.
I’d had my last silent lunch, my last icy dip and sauna combo, and it was time to put the last few logs on the fire.
I was a fussy fire starter these days, always on the lookout for a dry lump of wood that would catch easily, then burn slowly.
The only way to make a fire last. I opened both suitcases and laid them on the bed.
My wetsuit and karate outfit were still fresh and clean, folded up next to my Jimmy Choos.
What was I thinking? I wrapped my labradorite rocks in my knickers and tucked them inside my trainers, remembering that first accidental hug with Henrik when the geothermal pool had delivered me straight into his arms.
‘Sara, are you home?’ Greta called through the bedroom window. I’d left it open despite the Baltic conditions. The heat from the cabin was keeping the cold at bay, and I wanted to feel everything as deeply as possible before I left.
‘For now,’ I said, opening the door and giving her a hug.
She was holding a huge parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with gold ribbon.
‘I’ve got you a little something,’ she said, handing it to me.
‘Have you? What for?’
‘Because it’s your last day and I’m going to miss you!’
‘Stop it! You’re too cute!’ I said, feeling bad that I hadn’t been as thoughtful.
Greta laughed. ‘You haven’t seen it yet.’
I waved her in, and we sat by the fire. I couldn’t take her gift without giving something back. What could I give her? My kimono? A pair of Jimmy Choos?
‘Honestly, you didn’t need to do this,’ I said, a lump in my throat as I untied the beautiful bow.
How exciting to get an enormous, surprise present.
It was soft and squidgy, with a flash of purple, then green and red.
‘Oh, Greta!’ It was one of her crocheted blankets in all the colours of the aurora. Allegedly.
‘As I said, I can’t help myself,’ she said with a smile. ‘And I don’t want your sleep patterns interrupted when you get back to London. A magic blanket will help – and remind you of us all.’
I unfolded it and held it up to the window, feeling its weight in my hands. Rows and rows of rainbow colours had been woven together and dotted with luminous fireflies. ‘It’s gorgeous,’ I said, totally gobsmacked. ‘It must have taken you hours and hours to make.’
‘You’re worth it,’ she said, giving me another hug.
Each firefly had a flash of gold thread running through it, giving the pattern an overall sparkle. It was more than a blanket – it was a work of art. ‘Thank you so much, I love, love, love it.’
‘You’re welcome. Enjoy it and don’t forget us,’ she said. ‘Henny is going to miss you so much.’
‘Do you think?’ I hadn’t allowed myself to believe that Henrik might have genuine feelings, even though I knew mine were painfully real. I wanted to keep all our wonderful memories safe and protected. I didn’t want to sour them with a sad conversation.
Greta searched my face, confused. ‘What do you mean? Absolutely, he will.’
‘He’ll be on to the next one in no time.’
‘Not Hen. He hasn’t had a girlfriend for years, not since he moved back from New York. The way he’s been with you has been completely… different. He’s clearly smitten.’
‘Really? But he’s so smooth. I assumed it was part of his schtick.’
‘Not. At. All. He has no schtick. He is schtick-less and totally genuine. Can’t you see? His heart is pure and golden, and ordinarily he’s very protective of it. We all are.’
‘He is lovely,’ I murmured, thinking about some of the moments we’d shared. ‘I hadn’t really let myself think it could ever be anything…’
The wood burner popped loudly, and the gently lolling logs burst into flame, spitting fiery flecks at the glass. I’d had a golden heart, once, too. Open and trusting, with no room for cynicism. Where had it gone?
‘You could totally sell these on Etsy, you know,’ I said, changing the subject. I covered my knees in the blanket and posed. ‘For the stylish thirty-something couch potato. Get a production line going.’
Greta smiled. ‘I could. But I only make them for my special potatoes. The magic can’t be crocheted in en masse.’
‘Well, it’s perfect. I’m proud to be one of your specials and to have a little piece of Firefly Forest to take home.’
*
‘Welcome to the final dinner. The end of your transformation programme. I hope you have enjoyed your time with us here at Firefly Forest,’ Tore said as Jonas and Greta handed out champagne flutes full of sparkling lemon and lime.
‘We have one final surprise for you all, if you’d like to bring your drinks outside and follow me. ’
The sun had already set, and the air was cold and fresh as we marched single file behind Tore, past the thermal pools and into the forest. I hadn’t really dressed for an Arctic trek and my Chelsea boots had had just about as much as they could take out here, getting even more wrecked as we scrambled over wet leaves and muddy branches.
A line of lemmings playing follow the leader, leader, leader, without question.
Eventually we arrived in a glade, where a circle of trees had been decorated with fairy lights and three glass igloos were glowing gold, cream and white in the dark.
It could easily have been a proposal set-up or the backdrop for a romantic photo shoot – except it wasn’t.
It was just us having dinner together. We were the occasion.
Each igloo had a table inside set for dinner, with white tablecloths, gold cutlery and sheepskin covered chairs.
The candles were already lit and welcoming and yellow forest flowers gave a pop of colour in silver vases.
Pine cones and holly decorated the ceilings, and a mini wood burner crackled quietly in each corner.
‘Wow!’ Celeste said, skipping down to the first igloo. ‘Where have you been hiding all this?’
Ethel gave me a knowing smile – she’d seen it all before. ‘Fabulous, isn’t it?’ she whispered, not wanting to interrupt the awe-struck reverie of the group.
I walked down to the clearing, slowing my steps to take it all in.
An enormous chiminea was blasting out heat in front of the igloos and a makeshift kitchen had been set up outside.
The spicy smell of vegetable chilli being cooked over an open fire carried through the air.
Huge paella pans of rice were being tended to by Jonas, in between flipping homemade pittas on the griddle.
And then I spotted them. At first I thought it was the wind rustling the fairy lights in the trees.
But it was too bright for that. Thousands of tiny lights flashing randomly, illuminating the forest. They weren’t fairy lights. They were fireflies.
‘Pretty cool, huh?’ Henrik appeared next to me, looking up into the trees.
‘Are they… real?’ I asked, getting as close as I could.
Henrik laughed. ‘Very good, eagle eyes. We use little lights in winter to give the effect while they hibernate. All solar of course.’
‘Still cool to see the light show.’
‘The trees are full of fireflies and glow worms in the summer – fascinating little creatures.’
‘I did wonder where the name had come from. I’d love to see them.’
‘Then you’ll have to come back,’ Henrik said with a wink. ‘We get a few different varieties here in Norway and each one lights up differently. They all have their very own flirtation dance.’
‘Is that why they do it?’
‘Not the only reason, but I suppose the light patterns are like languages. The same species can chat together: one flash for yes, two flashes for no.’
‘Seventeen flashes for there’s a spider over there.’
Henrik laughed. ‘Exactly. And to attract the right mate. The men light up and the women reply if they’re interested.’
‘What if the woman is interested first?’
‘I don’t think the men are fussy. They put their lights on for everyone then see who replies.’
‘Sounds like Tinder.’ I laughed. ‘My mate Kat says men are like taxis. They put their lights on when they’re ready for a relationship. She has a nose for a single man.’
‘How do I put mine on?’ Henrik asked, suddenly serious.
I felt myself blush under his scrutiny and shrugged. ‘You’ll have to ask Kat.’
Tore banged a huge gong to get everyone’s attention. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served. There is a table plan for this evening, so please find your place and take your seat.’
I poked my nose into the first igloo where Yuto and Kimi were in fits of laughter and there were two spare chairs. ‘Evening! Am I in here with you?’
‘These seats are for Jonas and Greta,’ Kimi said.
The middle igloo was being hosted by Tore and already had everybody seated, so I carried on walking up to igloo number three, where Celeste and Will were sat with Ethel and Henrik.
‘This must be me,’ I said, peering in.
‘Best seat in the house,’ Henrik said, patting the empty chair next to him.
‘A Nilsen in every room,’ Ethel said, raising her apple juice in a toast. ‘Thank you for a wonderful few weeks, Henrik. The retreat was as magical as ever and I’m already booked in for next year.’