Page 6 of Entwined in Norway

‘I know,’ she said, smiling at Lotta. ‘But there’s nothing to be gained by staying. I can see that now.’

‘There’s always a place for you at Lysgården,’ said Mats.

‘If you’re offering me the Spruce suite, I accept.’ The suite was the best room in the house, with views of the fjord and the woods and mountains beyond, and it was the most spacious and luxurious.

He laughed. ‘We can do a cabin up for you.’

‘Lovely. Thank you,’ she said drily.

‘Emil and I will take a cabin too, if you’re handing them out,’ Fredrik said.

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Really? I was only joking.’

Mats shrugged. ‘If we’re not going to have this place to get together, we should have somewhere. I don’t mind if everyone has a cabin on the island.’

‘We’ll take the one next door to Ida’s,’ said Fredrik. ‘I don’t want to lose my free babysitter.’

Ida reached over and pinched his arm.

‘Ow!’ he said, laughing.

She laughed too. This is what she didn’t want to lose by selling the house. Her idiot brothers.

4

The hotel had helpfully sent Erik a timetable of the shuttle boats he could catch to get to the island. They were pretty regular, but with a big gap in the middle of the day. Since, timing wise he was now in the middle of that gap and he was no stranger to the water, he decided to make his own way there. He’d been on plenty of family vacations spent canoeing, camping, and hiking in the Canadian wilderness north of Toronto, and much preferred having his own mode of transport for this part of his adventure. So he set off from the hotel, and headed for the place he’d found online where he hoped he’d be able to hire a kayak for a few days.

Greenkayak was on the quayside in Bergen, close to where he’d eaten the night before. They hired kayaks out for free in return for you agreeing to pick up rubbish on your travels. Since Erik was after a longer hire period than a few hours, and there was nowhere else he could find that hired kayaks without a tour of some kind being involved, he agreed to bring back two tubs of rubbish and made a donation to them in exchange for a week of hire that included the loan of a life vest.

He zipped up the life vest, strapped his pack to the back of the kayak and put the two empty tubs and the litter-grabber they’d provided between his knees, then set off. Being on the water made the fjord seem even more enormous. There were some huge boats moored along the quayside that dwarfed Erik as he paddled past them, and he was relieved to reach the open water where he was less likely to be mown down by a bigger boat.

He had to keep to the right until he passed underneath the huge bridge that spanned the fjord, then he checked there was nothing coming up behind him and paddled towards the opposite side. He was looking for Radfjorden, and of course nothing was signposted, so he had pored over the map last night, making sure he’d have his bearings clear. But now that he was on the water, without a bird’s-eye view, it was hard to tell if the tributary of water to his left was what he’d seen on the map or whether it was altogether too small to be counted as a fjord. With beautiful scenery, clement weather and nothing pressing to do, he decided to venture down there since it didn’t matter if it was a wasted journey and he might have to turn back.

It was the wrong way, but it was worth the detour to see the small cabins dotted along the edge of the water, all with variations of jetties and docks outside them. Rowing boats were tethered here and there, and as he paddled towards the end, because there was an end, the water became shallower and as clear as any he’d ever seen. He dipped his hand in, letting it drag through as the kayak glided along. It was icy cold.

Back into the big fjord, he carried on until there was a large fjord that veered off to the left. This had to be it. He paddled along, the land on his left slowly rising and becoming an imposing wall of rock next to him. Then, after not too much longer, he spotted the island. Strandgården. He’d made it. The tip of the island was all he could see, with the rest of it presumably stretching out in a long, thin line along the fjord.

He pulled up alongside the jetty, heaved his pack out, then his litter-picking supplies, and finally lifted the kayak clear of the water, carrying it over to the grass and hiding it behind a bush. A wooden sign that simply said, “Lysgården”, with an arrow that pointed to the woodland behind, was the only thing to suggest this place was anything other than another small island in the fjords.

Pulling his pack onto his back, Erik stashed the litter-picking supplies with the kayak, then headed along the path and into the woods. The sense of peace was stark, in a place that was already pretty peaceful, it settled on him and he felt as if he’d come to somewhere familiar. Of course it wasn’t, but it gave him a sense of connection to the place which he hadn’t been expecting.

The walk through the woods was short and before long he emerged into a clearing where the hotel stood. He’d read on the hotel website that the original farmhouse had been renovated and extended. They’d done a good job. It looked as if it had been part of the scenery here forever, bedded in the clearing, not looking too new, with a wraparound veranda that made him want to pull out a book and take a seat there. Maybe later.

He took the steps up to the front door. It was already open, welcoming him into the hallway. Compared to the outside, which was unassuming, the inside was not what you’d expect to find anywhere other than in a boutique hotel. The luxury hit him in the face, and he felt a little uncomfortable standing there in his hiking trousers with his backpack on his shoulder.

‘Hello. Can I help you?’ Behind the reception desk in the corner was a small woman with brown hair in a ponytail. She was smiling at him, but he could tell by the way she spoke that she didn’t think he was a guest.

‘Hi, I’m Erik Anderson. I have a reservation.’

‘Right… Welcome to Lysgården.’ She seemed flustered and clicked the mouse a few times.

‘I emailed with someone called Emilie?’ He put aside the irritation that rose in him. It was a side-effect of being a grumpier person since his accident.

‘I’m sorry. I won’t be a moment.’

He could see the worry in her eyes, and for some reason, he felt bad for her. He wasn’t going to blow his short fuse on her. ‘Is everything okay?’