Giants of the Frost Read Online Free Page B

fantasy of having a whole island in the Norwegian Sea to myself had quickly taken grip in my mind: solitude, genuine solitude.
    "I'll be fine," I said. "I won't get into any trouble. I look forward to the challenge." And the space. And the freedom.
    "I'll need to speak to Maryanne," he said gruffly. "If she's not happy about running the station on such a low staff level, I'll have to stay."
    "But you have to collect your award," I squeaked, my deserted island now replaced by squirming imaginings of being stuck alone with Magnus.
    "We have a few weeks to work it out," he said. "Perhaps we can get a replacement meteorologist from the mainland."
    "Just as long as you know that I'm quite happy to work here alone," I said.
    "You've made that abundantly clear, Victoria. Now, on to the next agenda item. Formulation of best-practice benchmarks for the operational plan." Or at least I think that's what he said. I had glazed over before the end of the sentence.
    I soon discovered that Kirkja Station had a lot of traditions that involved alcoholic drinks, brought over from Norway by the Jonsok . They included (but certainly weren't limited to) Wednesday afternoon drinks, Friday evening drinks, Saturday afternoon drinks, and post-staff-meeting drinks. All this was paid for by the social club, which skimmed money from everyone's wages to raise funds. Norway was a nation with, possibly, the most expensive alcohol in the world. When I opened my first pay slip and saw how much the social club was taking out, I decided that I would have to ensure I got my money's worth. And so, while it's never wise to get drunk around your boss, I found .myself plastered in Magnus's cabin, with Frida, Carsten and Magnus himself. Alex, Josef and Gordon had long since called it a night. Magnus's cabin was as neat and ordered as he was. On the way back from his spotless bathroom, I found a photograph in a frame on his bookcase. Two children, perhaps around nine years old, smiled out at me.
    "Are these your children, Magnus?" I asked.
    "Yes. Matthias and Nina. They're twins."
    I plopped back down into an armchair. "Do they live with your wife?"
    "My ex-wife, yes," he replied.
    "One of his ex-wives," Carsten added with a grin. "All the men here have at least one ex-wife. That's why they've all run away to a deserted island."
    "Except Gunnar," Frida said quickly.
    "Of course. Gunnar's single." Magnus gave me a knowing smile, and I realized that everyone had picked Gunnar and me as a potential couple.
    "I've run away, too," I said. "I've given up on love."
    "People say that but they never mean it," Carsten said, taking off his glasses and rubbing them on his sleeve. Frida patted his hand affectionately.
    "I mean it. This past weekend, if I hadn't wised up sooner, I would have become Mrs. Adam Butler." I sounded bitter, damn me.
    "A broken engagement? That's what you're running away from?" Frida asked with a curl of her eel-like lips. I swear she looked delighted to hear of my misfortune.
    "Yes."
    "I'm sorry," said Magnus.
    "It's the second one," I confessed, wondering why I was confessing it. "It was my second broken engagement."
    "Really?" Carsten said. "So either you're very clever because you break up with them before it goes too far, or…"
    "Or she picks the wrong men to start with," Frida said helpfully. I wished it were that simple. I honestly loved Adam, just as I loved my childhood sweetheart, Patrick, before him. I simply didn't love them enough. If I told you that I split with Adam because he knocked up another girl, that's only half the story. It doesn't account for how unloved by me he felt, how cold I was with him, how endlessly disappointed I was in his imperfections and how obvious that disappointment was to him.
    "I just can't do it," I said, emphasizing each word with my glass, nearly spilling my wine. "I can't do love." The conversation went elsewhere, fortunately. I already felt sobriety edging into the haze and waving a finger because I'd