Blackout by Ragnar Jónasson Page A

getting her sacked from the news team.

13
    Kristín hurried along the corridor of the Akureyri Hospital. The years had left the yellow lino on the floor scratched and stained and the white tiles on the walls had long ago lost their sheen. It was a cold and unwelcoming environment.
    The wards were already a hive of activity as her shift started. Kristín liked that; she was quickly bored when things were quiet, giving her too much time to think about the future. Like every doctor qualifying in Iceland, she would soon have to think about going abroad to specialise, but she pushed that thought to the recesses of her mind. She was in no frame of mind to make decisions that would dictate the course of her career. With years at the University of Iceland behind her, she was still facing another long period of study overseas. Sometimes she regretted choosing medicine, uncomfortable with the idea of spending years studying and then being limited to a particular field. Once the investment in this extensive process was taken into account, along with the pressure that the work brought with it, the money she’d earn was nothing special. She suspected that, with the economy stagnating in the wake of the financial crash a few years earlier and the cuts to the health service, she’d have to work abroad to make all that investment pay for itself. And that would entail even more decisions.
    She felt her mobile, set on silent, vibrate in her pocket. She paused, plucked the phone from her pocket and saw that it was her friend from the golf course. They had planned to meet during the week.
    She answered.
    ‘Kristín?’
    ‘That’s me. Hi.’
    His friendly voice gave her warm feeling inside.
    ‘Am I interrupting anything?’
    Kristín had always made work and study her priorities when she and Ari Thór had been together. Maybe that was one of the reasons they had parted?
    ‘No, it’s all right.’
    ‘I was wondering if we could meet up tonight? Find a place to have a meal?’
    ‘I’m sorry, but I’m already promised tonight.’ She was disappointed. She needed to meet him, have a chance to relax and think of something else. ‘Tomorrow evening?’
    ‘Perfect.’
    ‘We can meet at my place,’ she said. ‘My shift finishes at seven.’
    She gave him the address.
    ‘That’s great. See you tomorrow,’ he said.
    She thought she heard real pleasure in his voice as he put down the phone. And she couldn’t help feeling a keen anticipation – she was already looking forward to their date. Red wine, a few good cheeses to choose from – maybe he’d help her finally shake off Ari Thór.

14
    He hadn’t noticed her go downstairs, but Nóra was standing in the hall when Ari Thór came down, the sports bag in his hands.
    ‘Are you taking that with you?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes,’ he replied.
    ‘What for?’
    Her eyes widened with excitement.
    ‘I need your key to the upstairs apartment,’ said Ari Thór, artfully avoiding her questioning gaze. ‘Do you have spare keys?’
    This took her by surprise.
    ‘What? Yes. Of course,’ she said, going into her own apartment and returning with the key. ‘I don’t have any other ones,’ she added, her eyes firmly on the sports bag.
    ‘How did he pay his rent?’
    She looked up with a smile. ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Did he pay in cash, or did he transfer the money to your account?’ he asked.
    ‘Always cash. Why?’
    ‘I’ll be in touch later if there are any questions,’ he said, allowing authority to permeate his voice in the hope that she would back down. ‘I’d appreciate it if you didn’t share anything about this visit with anyone. And please don’t mention the bag to anyone,’ he said, trying to make it plain by his tone that this was more than a polite request.
    Ari Thór said his goodbyes to Nóra and got into the police four-by-four.
    It was still bright over Siglufjörður. The sun gleamed in a clearblue sky, making the waters of the fjord sparkle. There were still a