‘Yes – I mean, I go by Nick but, yeah, that’s my name.’
‘Nick?’ She gasps. ‘Oh, thecard…’
I start to ask what that means when she claps her hand to her forehead and says, ‘This doesn’t make any sense.’
‘Signorina, I assure you?—’
‘Myboyfriendis Nicholas James,’ she says, cutting him off.
A weighty hush descends as the three of us stare at each other, mouths gaping.
‘He’sNicholas James as well?’ I ask after a long beat.
‘Uh-huh,’ she replies.
‘So, if True North sentmehere…’
Her eyes get even wider. ‘Oh my god!’
She rushes back inside and I go after her. When I get to the door, she already has a phone to her ear, the ringtone audible. Her eyes find mine and we wait out the rings. Eventually, the call goes to voicemail.
‘Hi, babe, it’s me,’ she says, turning away. ‘Call me as soon as you get this.’ She faces me and wags a finger in my direction. ‘Now you,’ she says – meaning I should phone Pippa.
‘Right.’
Only I don’t want to have this conversation in front of the Californian woman – Delaney – especially if this situation is as fucked up as it seems. I return to the balcony and head to the far corner for some privacy, then make the call.
‘Heya,’ Pippa chirrups after only two rings.
‘Hey, Pip. So… have you arrived?’
‘Almost there – so excited, darling. Can’t wait to see you.’
‘Er… same.’
‘Are you already there?’ she asks.
‘Sort of.’
She sniggers. ‘What do you mean,sort of?’ she asks, right as a car horn blares.
‘Pip, whereareyou?’
‘I’m on my way to the hotel, silly.’
‘Whichhotel?’
‘Nordlys Retreat.’
‘Which is where?’
‘Nick, you’re being very strange.’
‘Look, I know it’s bonkers me asking, Pip, butwhere’sthe hotel? What country – what city?’
She hesitates. ‘Erm, it’s right outside Reykjavik.’Fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck.‘Actually,’ she says, sounding wary, ‘the cab’s pulling up now – hang on.’
‘Yep.’