ICEHOTEL (5 page)

A feeling of unease stole over
me. I was aware of Liz, tugging at my arm, urging me into the Excelsior. But I
was unable to move. A chill was creeping through my body, a chill that had
nothing to do with the plummeting temperature.

Lunch was over, and we had an hour
to kill before our tour. We decided to have a drink in the lounge.

I’d peeked into the room on the way to the restaurant. One
end was elegantly furnished with coffee tables, maroon-coloured sofas, and a
baby grand. Cream curtains, held back with sashes, framed the large bay
windows. The other end served as the bar, with taller tables, wooden chairs,
and recesses in the wall that gave drinkers a measure of privacy. As this was
Monday, the room was spotless, and the dark red carpet smelt of shampoo. I
wondered idly what it would smell like by Friday.

Harry, who never wasted time when someone mentioned a drink,
marched into the room.

‘My God.’ He stopped dead. ‘Who is that Adonis?’

Liz was peering over his shoulder. ‘Ooh yummy, Harry, he
is
rather gorgeous,’ she murmured.

There was only one person in the lounge.

He lay sprawled in a chair, an arm slung lazily over the
back pulling his jacket open and straining the shirt across his chest. His legs
stretched endlessly, the ankles crossed in such a way it was impossible not to
see the Bart Simpson socks. His silk suit was superbly tailored, possibly even
hand-made, and gave him the air of a Chicago gangster. Apart from the socks,
his other concession to individuality was the bubblegum-pink tie, which he
fingered softly as though needing to check the quality. His hair wa
s expertly cut and,
I suspected, deliberately
tousled. Despite his relaxed features, there was something disturbing about
him, something I couldn’t put my finger on.

He got to his feet.

I was conscious we were staring. I walked over, smiling
awkwardly. ‘I’m Maggie Stewart.’

There was a pause as he took his eyes off my hair. ‘Mike
Molloy,’ he said, in a strong Irish accent. ‘At your service.’ He held my gaze,
smiling easily as if to say, ‘Any time, and as often as you like.’

Liz and Harry seemed to have lost the power of speech, so I
made the introductions.

‘Delighted,’ Harry beamed, finally finding his voice. He
hurried forward, hand extended, and pumped Mike’s arm. ‘May we join you?’

‘Of course,’ Mike said warmly.

We took our seats.

‘You people with a group?’ he said, looking at no-one in
particular.

‘We’re with Leo Tullis,’ I said. ‘He told us there’d be
another member of the Edinburgh party here. That would be you?’

‘That’s right,’ he said softly.

‘So where have you flown in from?’

‘I was in Stockholm all last week. It made sense to stay
over the weekend and fly to Kiruna this morning.’

I glanced at his clothes, wondering why, north of the Arctic
Circle, he was dressed like a banker.

He caught me looking and smiled ruefully. ‘These are my work
clothes.’

I smiled back. ‘I’d gathered that.’ I hesitated. ‘Is it a
Swedish company you work for?’

‘Mane Drew.’ There was a hint of pride in his voice.

‘The name’s familiar. IT consultancy?’

‘They’re one of the bigger Scottish companies. They service
most of the south of Scotland.’

‘But you’re working in Stockholm?’

‘I helped Mane Drew set up a branch there last spring. The
irony is that, although I work out of the Edinburgh office, I’m hardly ever
there.’

‘Your accent’s not Scottish, though,’ said Liz. ‘You’re
Irish, aren’t you?’ She was gazing at Mike, her expression deliberately
softened.

I rubbed my mouth so he didn’t see the smile. When Liz
dangled her charms, it worked with most men, but I was curious to see how this
one would react.

He flicked a speck of fluff off his lapel. ‘Well now, I was
transferred to Edinburgh eighteen months ago from our Dublin branch’ – he
looked up at Liz – ‘to inject a little Irish talent into Scotland.’

‘Indeed,’ Harry said under his breath, his eyes moving over
Mike’s body.

‘I flew here after my morning meetings,’ Mike said, glancing
down at his pinstripe. ‘Some eejit sent my luggage somewhere else, which is why
I’m dressed like this. I need to get some ski gear. It’s cold enough here to
freeze the brass ones.’ He leant back, crossing his legs. ‘This holiday was a
last-minute decision,’ he said, laughing. ‘I’m wondering what I’ve let myself
in for.’

‘You had to work this morning?’ Liz said, pouting. ‘Gosh,
poor you. On the first day of your holiday, as well.’

‘It wasn’t that bad. Mainly presentations. I slept through
most of them.’ A mischievous look came into his eyes. ‘The last one was given
by some woman, an A-type female. Must have spent ages on her make-up and
clothes. And she’d pinned her hair up, twisted in this funny way, it was. Well,
in the middle of her talk, the pins came loose and it began to unwind. You
should have seen the faces, specially on the women.’

Harry was hanging on Mike’s every word, his eyes glazed.

‘So the hairpins came out, one by one, and her hair fell
over her shoulders. It was a good trick, and no mistake. Certainly got
everyone’s attention. Reminded me of Rita Hayworth in that film where she does
a striptease without taking her clothes off.’

‘You thought it was deliberate?’ I said coldly, suddenly
sympathetic towards a woman I’d never met.

He laughed then, a deep resonant sound. ‘Come on now, all
women do it. I know one who lets out another button before a talk. She never
gets asked any questions, because no-one’s paid any attention to what she’s
said.’

‘Sounds like you don’t believe in equality of the sexes,’
Harry said, in a tone of playful admonishment.

The corners of Mike’s mouth lifted, dimpling his cheeks,
making him look like a boy. ‘Not only do I believe in it, I’m fighting to get
it back.’

It was impossible not to stare into his eyes. The brown
irises were flecked with amber, the effect both fascinating and disconcerting.
When he smiled, which was often, his eyes glowed with a warm confidence: Mike
Molloy wasn’t a man whose ego needed constant massaging.

He was watching me, apparently waiting for my reaction. ‘So
how do you all come to know each other?’ he said, when no reaction was
forthcoming.

‘Mags and I were best friends at school. We lost touch and
then met up’ – Liz turned to me – ‘golly, when was it now? I can’t quite
remember.’

‘A couple of years ago,’ I said, looking at Mike.

‘That’s it. We literally ran into each other in Jenners, at
the January sales.’

Mike continued to watch me. The expression in his eyes was
unnerving. ‘So what’s it like living in Sweden?’ I said, for something to say.

He shrugged. ‘On the plus side, no-one cares if you’re a
Catholic or a Prot.’

‘And on the minus side?’

‘Swedes don’t know how to party – I’ve been at better wakes,
to tell the truth – so you have to make your own fun.’ He grinned. ‘Last
Saturday, I hooked up with a group of Yanks. We spent the evening drinking in
hotels. It was a blast. I spent most of Sunday sleeping it off.’

Harry had been waiting for an opportunity to join the
conversation. ‘Talking of drink, there’s time for a quickie before our tour.
What do you say to a little Bolinger? My treat, of course.’ He got to his feet.
‘Let me see if I can find the barman.’

Mike nodded at Harry’s retreating back. ‘That feller’s face
looks familiar.’

‘Oh, you’ll have seen it on television,’ said Liz. ‘He’s
written a bestseller,
The Modern Terrorist: Nature or Nurture?
You must
have heard of it.’

From Mike’s expression, I guessed he hadn’t. But then, I
hadn’t heard of Harry before Liz had introduced us.

‘
Nature or Nurture?
’ He pulled a face. ‘Sounds far
too theoretical. I once went to a talk called something like that. It was given
by this university boffin. Had a face as long as a week. The talk was totally
incomprehensible. I’m not even sure the boffin had his teeth in at the time.’

Liz laughed. ‘Ah, but Harry’s books are different. I took a
module on terrorism when I was at college, and the books on the reading list
were all by him. Jolly good they were, too. And his talks can be hysterically
funny.’

‘You must have heard him on the radio,’ I said. ‘Professor
Henry Auchinleck? The expert who advises governments on terrorism?’

Liz was watching Mike. ‘Not just governments. NATO, the EU,
the UN – you name the initials. He’s a really brilliant academic. He’s got more
medals than Montgomery.’

‘Can’t say I recognise the name. But an academic, you said?’
He rubbed his chin. ‘Hardly the fast lane. It’s down there with lawyers and
financiers.’

‘Careful,’ said Liz, before I could reply. ‘Maggie’s an
accountant.’

He leant back, studying me. ‘I took an accountancy course
once. Not exactly rocket science, is it? Just figures on a spreadsheet.’

I couldn’t let this go. ‘Yes, sweetie,’ I said, forcing a
smile, ‘but I can do it backwards and in high heels.’

‘Well, that’s lovely now, Maggie.’ His lips twitched. ‘So
where do you do your sums?’

‘
Sums?
’

‘We both work for the same company,’ said Liz quickly.
‘Bayne Pharmaceuticals.’

He straightened his tie. ‘The Scottish drug company? We did
some consultancy for them a couple of months ago, I believe.’

‘You believe correctly,’ I said, my smile coming easily now.
‘Our servers haven’t been the same since.’

His eyes moved over my face. ‘A sense of humour. I like that
in a woman.’

‘Mags is Deputy Finance Director, you know. She practically
runs Bayne’s.’

‘No, I don’t,’ I said, annoyed Liz was embarrassing me in
front of a stranger. I frowned at her, trying to signal that I wanted to bring
the topic to a close. ‘Don’t believe everything Liz tells you, Mike. I’m just a
pawn in a giant game of chess.’

‘Have you found the job difficult?’ he said. ‘The Finance
people at Mane Drew are permanently on the verge of nervous breakdowns.’

I hesitated. ‘The first six months were hell.’

‘I’m betting the men in your department didn’t make it easy.’

I was surprised by this comment, coming from a man. ‘I’ve
learnt to expect that, specially as my boss told me I beat off some stiff
internal competition.’

‘That won’t have made you popular.’

‘It didn’t.’ I kept my voice level. ‘But I’m no longer
prepared to stroke young male egos.’

He grinned. ‘I have to do that all the time.’

Harry returned with a bottle of champagne. He removed the
cap and popped the cork with expertise born of practice.

I sipped, watching Mike over the rim of the glass. He was
joking with Harry, encouraging him to drink up, glancing at me now and then as
though seeking my approval. Liz was laughing, turning from one to the other.
The scene seemed innocent enough. So why did I feel a prickle of anxiety?

The Activities Room was at the end
of the long corridor leading from the foyer. It was 3.00pm and a group was
gathering. Mike and Harry arrived together, deep in conversation, Mike still in
his pinstripe.

‘So what about it, Mags?’ said Liz, watching Mike. ‘You up
for a holiday romance?’

‘I think not. I haven’t had any luck with men, recently.’

‘Yes, well, you do total most of your relationships. But I
rather think this one would help take your mind off the last. He was a disaster
and a half.’

I glared at her. Yet she was right. It hadn’t taken me long
to realise that my last boyfriend didn’t want a girlfriend. He wanted a nanny.
‘I’m over him, Liz. And from now, I’m not lowering my
guard.’

‘Gosh really? No more romantic attachments?’

‘That was the old Maggie. The new Maggie is done with
meaningful relationships.’ I smiled wearily. ‘Nothing but casual affairs from
now on.’

‘Then I’d say Mike Molloy would be just the ticket.’

‘He’s not my type. He’s got a huge opinion of himself and
he’s not afraid to show it in public.’

But it was simpler than that: my instincts told me to steer
clear of him. Unfortunately, that was becoming increasingly unlikely. He and
Harry seemed to be hitting it off.

‘That’s right, dear boy,’ Harry was saying. ‘Cooking is one
of my hobbies. When I’m not slaving in a hot lecture theatre, I’m slaving over
a hot stove. Look, next time you’re in Edinburgh, you must come to one of my
Sunday buffets.’ He smiled indulgently. ‘From what you’ve told me, I’d hazard a
guess you’re a bit of a domestic goddess, yourself.’

‘That, I am. I love cooking Thai.’

‘With me, it’s French. I like my food saucy.’

Mike winked. ‘A bit like yourself, Harry.’

‘Oh, do you think so?’ Harry simpered, blushing to the
roots.

I listened with curiosity. For all Mike’s macho image, he
was comfortable enough with his masculinity to banter like this with a gay man.
And Harry loved innuendo, whether from a man or a woman. He was so obviously
happy that I couldn’t help but be grateful Mike was showing such an interest in
him.

There were a dozen of us waiting for the guide. The redhead,
dressed in a fur-trimmed hat and huge quilted jacket, its burgundy colour
matching her hair, had told us at lunch that her name was Jane Galloway. The
Ellises arrived late, looking as though they’d just had a row. Robyn was red in
the face and hissing at her husband who was trying to ignore her. I turned away
to hide a smile. The Ellises were going to be fun.

The Bibbys were absent. I wondered why, given Wilson’s
comment about wanting to visit the Icehotel. Perhaps they were being personally
shown around later. Yes, the things money can buy.

Leo Tullis appeared, clutching his clipboard.

‘Are you conducting the tour, Leo?’ I said.