Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
‘A pleasure having you here, tante Eth, as always.’ He smiled around the table. ‘I hope you’ve all enjoyed it too?’
Celeste’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Yes,’ she managed.
‘We’re very emotional about leaving,’ Will said, putting his arm around her. ‘It’s been incredible.’
A loud humming drowned out the conversation as the igloo roofs slid back in unison, the glass panels folding in on themselves to reveal the October moon and a sky full of stars. More stars than I’d ever seen before.
‘The hunter’s moon,’ Ethel said, closing her eyes to bask in the lunar glow.
‘Almost full,’ Celeste added. ‘Make a wish at midnight, everyone.’
The cold air battled against the heat from the fire, the woody smoke homely and comforting.
I took a sip of my fizzy lemon and lime.
Ice-cold and delicious. It tasted just like the Sprite I’d had the day I’d seen Mark on his date with Millie.
I was consumed with anxiety and sat around in my pyjamas all day, eating doughnuts for dinner; well, look how far I’d come.
‘I’ll be your waiter for the evening,’ Henrik said, standing up and tossing his napkin over his shoulder. We clapped and cheered, and he took a bow. ‘First things first. Starters.’
‘Starting with the starters makes sense,’ Will said.
‘Can we help?’ I asked, feeling bad he couldn’t relax.
‘No, no. Leave it to me. Henrik Nilsen at your service, one last time.’ He took my hand and gently kissed it, a look of pure longing on his face.
The moment passed and off he went, my heart still racing.
It was all becoming real. I was going home, and this was the final night.
Our final night. My last chance to do something – but what?
‘That boy is an absolute marvel,’ Ethel said, dabbing her eyes. ‘He works so hard, always going above and beyond for his family. His mother would be so proud.’
‘Did you know her?’ Celeste asked.
‘You could say that. Audhilda was my little sister.’
‘What?! I didn’t know you were family?’
‘You’re Henrik’s aunt?’ Will said, looking into Ethel’s brown eyes. ‘Hmm, yeah, I can see it, actually.’
‘Guilty as charged. This is my annual pilgrimage to keep an eye on my nephews.’
‘Here we are…’ Henrik reappeared with four small plates, balanced on his arm. ‘Homemade hummus with carrots, cucumber, spinach and not to forget… the humble radish. Remember these?’
‘The seeds we planted on our first day,’ Celeste said, bursting into fresh tears.
‘Almost. These are from the group before you, and yours will be served to the next group in a few weeks’ time. Continuing the cycle.’
‘Will they be fully grown by then?’ I asked, surprised.
‘Oh yes,’ Henrik said. ‘Some will be ready before.’
‘Growth happens quickly in the right conditions,’ Ethel added.
The pink and white radish fanned out in front of me looked so dainty on the plate. Hard to believe it had been a tiny brown seed just a few weeks ago. I’d pushed handfuls of them deep down into the soil, thinking they’d take forever to grow. Yet here we were.
‘It feels mean to eat them,’ Celeste said as Will speared a forkful into his mouth.
‘Not at all,’ Henrik said. ‘That radish exists to be eaten, I promise you. And if you don’t eat it, someone else will.’
‘It’s a radish-eat-radish world,’ I said with a smile.
‘I have a leaving present for you all,’ Henrik announced while we munched our salads.
‘I’ve already had a lovely gift from Greta,’ I said, starting to feel overwhelmed.
‘It’s only a very small thing,’ he said, pulling four envelopes from under the table and handing them out.
There was a Polaroid inside each of them and mine was a photo of me on the husky sled, holding on for dear life, eyes bright, my hair frizzy and flowing as I laughed.
A perfect picture of adventure and freedom, with Henrik and Kaspar blurry in the background.
Tore must have taken it as we’d skidded in towards him at breakneck speed and I barely recognised myself. I looked so rested and happy.
‘You’re welcome to share them with each other, if you like,’ Henrik said. ‘We’ve tried to capture your spirit in a photo. A moment of joy for you to take home. And there is something written on the back of each one.’
‘Holding on,’ I read, eyes shining.
‘Snow angel.’ Celeste went next, with an aerial shot from the fire and ice experience.
Will was tucking into a mushroom stroganoff, looking devastated. ‘Is it all vegan?’ he read aloud, and we all laughed.
And lastly Ethel. Her Polaroid showed her running over hot coals, full of joy and light, and she smiled as she said her word. ‘Believer.’
There were squeals of delight and thank-yous directed at Henrik for his thoughtfulness.
I wondered if I’d ever see a husky again.
It wasn’t the kind of pet you could get away with in London.
Life was going to feel so different when I got back.
I couldn’t think of the nearest tree to my flat in King’s Cross, let alone an actual forest.
‘Ready for your main courses?’ Henrik whipped away our plates and returned with two small cauldrons: vegetable chilli and steaming hot rice.
My mouth watered as he ladled out our portions, and Jonas popped in with a platter of toasted pittas, guacamole, salsa and homemade tortilla chips. What a feast.
Ethel gave a little cough. ‘I also have a small gift to share with the group,’ she said, loading her chip up with guacamole.
‘There are enough for everyone actually, Henrik, not just these three, so you can give them out.’ She delved into her velvet tote and handed us each a sage bundle tied with string. Mum would be delighted.
Celeste smiled. ‘A smudging stick.’
‘This is so kind, Ethel, thank you,’ I said, giving her a hug. ‘Have I missed something? Were we all supposed to bring a sharing gift?’
‘We didn’t bring anything either,’ Will said, looking clueless.
‘Nothing has been missed,’ Henrik said. ‘The gifts are from our family to yours as a memento of your stay. Think of us sometimes and come back one day. Maybe you’ll tell your friends, and they will tell their friends.’
‘My parents have already booked to come in the spring,’ Celeste said. ‘And we’d love to come back, wouldn’t we?’
Will nodded. ‘What’s a smudging stick?’ he asked, holding up his sage.
The chilli was delicious. Spicy and chunky, with beans and onions all fresh from the vegetable garden.
Everything tasted good. Wholesome and nutritious, but still moreish.
The five of us scoffed our faces, happily eating as much of our last supper as we could.
I was not looking forward to going back to the meal merry-go-round of Itsu, Deliveroo and the supermarket three-for-two.
There was a murmur from the other igloos, and we looked over to see everyone moving towards the chiminea, like zombies, staring up at the sky.
‘Finally,’ Henrik murmured. ‘She’s here. Aurora on the edges of the clouds through there, can you see?’
We followed Henrik’s gaze, gawping up at the sky together.
I wasn’t expecting much, having been disappointed twice.
If the only way to enjoy the Northern Lights was through a magic looking glass, wearing 3D glasses, by the light of the strawberry moon – or any other such nonsense – then I wasn’t interested. Although… Oh. My. God.
‘I can see them!’ I shouted into the air at no one in particular.
The silver edge that Henrik had pointed out was now pale pink and spreading fast across the sky.
We watched as it deepened to red and was joined by purple and pale blue, the horizon shifting slowly in front of us, full of different colours.
Tore put his arms around Jonas and Henrik. ‘It’s a good one tonight, boys.’
‘Rare to see the multicolour,’ Jonas said. ‘Greta’s put an order in with Mor for the wedding.’
‘Mamma’s favourite,’ Henrik replied. ‘She’ll sort it for you if she can.’