Out of the Ice Read Online Free Page A

little girl in a red raincoat was playing by a pond. Donald Sutherland appeared, sitting in a comfortable cottage, looking at a slide of a church. I caught my breath. I’d seen it before, and every ounce of me wanted to run from the room. The little girl in the red raincoat, his daughter, was going to drown in the pond. I couldn’t move. I shut my eyes when it happened.
    In Antarctica, there are rules. It’s important to stick with the group; at times, that can save your life. If I left now it would send a terrible signal, because Saturday film nights were bonding exercises. In such a vast and potentially hostile environment, social isolation can set in, and Station Leaders always tried to forge connections between expeditioners.
    I forced myself to watch the eerie landscape of Venice, its dark alleys where Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland get lost, the child – or was it a child? – in the red raincoat scampering away into the night. The body of a murdered woman hauled, upside-down, from a dank canal, her clothes falling away to reveal bruised flesh.
    I knew that Don’t Look Now was a good film, a great film, but I grew increasingly hot and claustrophobic, aware of the stale air from so many more people at close range. I was relieved when the lights came up.
    Georgia was quickly by my side, hand gripping my shoulder as the audience clapped appreciatively and I joined in.
    ‘Good, eh?’
    ‘Brilliant.’
    ‘Been to Venice?’
    ‘I have.’
    ‘Love it?’
    I nodded. I did like Venice. But in the daytime and on the Grand Canal, not the malevolent, disjointed, empty Venice we’d just seen.
    ‘Jeff and I are taking the kids once Stacey graduates. We’ll stay at my favourite pensione, Hotel Leone Alato, in a little alley near St Mark’s Square.’ Georgia’s grin was so dazzling it warmed me up.
    ‘Got a moment?’ she said.
    I followed her into the small room that doubled as the communications centre and Station Leader’s office. Georgia plonked herself behind the desk; I sat opposite.
    ‘Strictly speaking I should wait and tell you this Monday, not on your night off, but the final approval’s just come in.’ Georgia had been steadily drinking through the film so was even more forthcoming than usual, but I had no idea what she was talking about.
    ‘There’s a field assignment for you at Alliance Station.’
    I stared at her mutely as she smiled broadly back. We both knew that Alliance, a British base on South Safety Island in the Southern Ocean, was strictly off-limits to all but a team of elite scientists and a small support staff of technicians.
    ‘An Environmental Impact Assessment of Fredelighavn, the old Norwegian whaling station at Placid Bay,’ she continued. ‘There’s a push by some in the International Antarctic Council to open it as a museum.’
    ‘What!’ I blurted. ‘But no one’s allowed in because of the seal and penguin colonies. Not even the staff at Alliance.’
    ‘That’s being disputed,’ Georgia replied matter-of-factly.
    ‘Why? No one should go there. I’ve seen a few pictures from the seventies before it was closed off. It looked like paradise.’
    Georgia nodded. ‘That’s why some people want to open it. They allowed a team of engineers in last summer to do a safety check. There’s no asbestos, so unlike places like the old whaling station at Leith on South Georgia, tourists could go in safely. The buildings are evidently in very good condition, and with global warming there’s been ice melt. That, and with some help from the engineers, has meant most of the sheds and houses are accessible.’
    ‘What happens to the wildlife?’ I asked, concerned.
    ‘That’s what you’d assess. Along with the suitability of the site.’
    ‘I hate tourists,’ I bridled. ‘Why do they need access to so much of Antarctica? Can’t they just leave it alone?’
    ‘There are many who’d agree,’ Georgia replied. ‘Including, from what I hear, the staff at Alliance. The