Page 21 of Entwined in Norway

‘So you can be casual. Don’t wear jeans, though.’ Her sister knew her too well. ‘Why don’t you wear that blue dress with the embroidery on the bodice? And maybe your denim jacket. And do your hair in a chignon.’

‘A chignon?’

‘You know what a chignon is, Ida.’

‘I can’t do a chignon.’

‘Isn’t there another woman on that island who can help you? Everyone knows how to do a chignon.’

‘I can ask Emilie.’

‘Yes, ask Emilie. And Ida.’

‘What?’

‘Enjoy yourself.’

After a phone call with Mats, during which Ida directed him to everything she’d need from her bedroom, he arrived at the hotel with a bagful and handed it to her.

‘What’s all this for?’

‘I’m going out tonight.’

‘Straight from here?’

‘Yes. Can you cover the desk while I get changed?’

She took the bag into the office. It was so much easier when she had her room upstairs. Except it was Erik’s room now, and she wouldn’t be going on her first date in years if he hadn’t taken that room.

She took off her practical black trousers, black t-shirt, and cardigan, all of which she wore in some form or another every day for work, and pulled the dress over her head. The shirring at the back cinched it in so there was no need to struggle with a zip. She put her white trainers back on, glad she could get away with the same footwear, then stood in front of the shelves assessing herself in the screen of her phone that she’d propped there to use as a mirror.

A couple of licks of mascara and a dab of concealer under her eyes were surely enough. A swipe of the fancy lip gloss Ingrid had given her a few weeks ago that tasted of toasted marshmallows finished her makeup. She noticed that the blue dress matched her eyes. Perhaps that’s what Ingrid had planned. After fruitlessly attempting a chignon herself, she went back out to the entrance hall where Emilie had arrived for the evening shift and was chatting to Mats.

‘Emilie, can you give me a hand with something?’

Both Emilie and Mats looked at her as if she had emerged wearing fancy dress instead of just a dress.

‘What?’

‘Nothing. You look great, Ida. Where are you off to? You didn’t say why you needed the clothes,’ said Mats.

Ida glared at him because she wasn’t about to announce to them and anyone else who might be within earshot that she was going on a date with a guest.

‘Come on, Emilie. I’m in a hurry.’

Emilie looked confused about why they were heading into the tiny office but didn’t say anything.

‘Do you know how to do a chignon?’

‘Yes, do you have hairpins?’ She didn’t miss a beat. And Ida was grateful for not being interrogated. If anything, being proud of Emilie for her unflappable response to an odd request, something that was an everyday occurrence in their job, distracted her.

Ida handed over a fabric pouch which held all of her hair-doing accessories. Emilie deftly extracted a few bobby pins and got to work.

‘Where are you off to?’ Ah, so she hadn’t avoided an interrogation after all.

‘Out for dinner.’

‘Anywhere nice?’