‘Did it get better, Papa?’
‘Yes, it got better. And when we reached the village, at the top of the high snowy mountain, the people there welcomed us and gave us food and comfortable beds, with warm quilts like yours.’
Mette whooped with joy, and the achievement seemed greater than the walk up to the isolated village, in terrible weather conditions, had been.
They had warm drinks together when they arrived back at the cottage, and Mette insisted on keeping her hat on, since she too was an explorer. Then there was a knock at the door, and Flora burst into the cottage, bringing the same sunlight with her that she took everywhere.
‘I like the new look.’ She grinned up at him and Aksel’s hand shot awkwardly to the small plait that ran from his right temple and was caught into the elastic band that held the rest of his hair back.
‘Mette’s rag doll has plaits...’ He shrugged as if it was nothing. When Mette had demanded that she be allowed to plait his hair this morning, it had felt like another step towards intimacy with his daughter, and he hadn’t had the heart to unravel the uneven braid.
‘I’m glad you kept it. She has excellent taste.’ Flora obviously approved wholeheartedly. ‘I hear that Ted Mackie’s acquired an ice unicorn...’
Aksel wondered if she really hadn’t been to see it, or she was just teasing. ‘Has he?’ He decided to play things cool.
‘It’s beautiful. I have about a million pictures of it.’ She stood on her toes, kissing his cheek so briefly that he only realised she’d done it after the fact. ‘Thank you.’
His cheek tingled from the touch of her lips as he followed Flora into the sitting room, where Mette was playing with Kari. Aksel decided that the hours spent sculpting the unicorn had been well worth it, and that he’d be tempted to create a whole menagerie of fantastic creatures in exchange for one more fleeting kiss.
It was agreed that they would walk down to the marketplace to see the village Christmas tree and the Christmas market. Aksel called Kari, putting on the yellow vest that denoted that she was at work now.
‘Mette’s already using Kari as her assistance dog?’
‘No, but Esme suggested that it might be a good idea to let her see her at work a bit, just to get her used to the idea. Where’s Dougal?’
‘I took him up to the therapy centre, they’re minding him. I didn’t want him to get under Mette’s feet.’ Flora took a green and red striped bobble hat from the pocket of her red coat, pulling it down over her ears, and Aksel chuckled. She looked delightful.
‘What are you? One of Santa’s elves?’
‘Right in one.’ She shot him an innocent look, tugging at the hat. ‘What gave me away?’
CHAPTER TEN
CLUCHLOCHRY’S MARKET SQUARE was paved with cobblestones, and boasted an old market cross, worn and battered by many winters. The market was already in full swing, with fairy lights hung around the canvas-topped stalls, and the village Christmas tree standing proudly in one corner, smothered in lights. As this was a Saturday morning, carol singers and a band had turned out to give the market a festive air.
The band struck up a melody that Mette recognised, and she started to sing along in Norwegian. Aksel lifted her up out of the crush of people, and heard Flora singing too, in English. At the end of the carol she joined in with the round of applause for the band, and Mette flung her arms up, wriggling with delight.
‘Shall we go over to the village hall first?’ Flora indicated a stone building next to the church. ‘There are lots of stalls in there as well.’
Aksel nodded his agreement, and Flora led the way, while he followed with Mette. Kari trotted by her side, and every now and then the little girl held out her hand, putting it on Kari’s back. It was a start. Soon, hopefully, Mette would be learning to rely on Kari to guide her.
Inside, it looked as if there had been some kind of competition between the stallholders to see who could get the most Christmas decorations into their allotted space. Aksel saw a large reindeer twinkling above one of them, and decided not to point it out to Mette, in case she wanted to take it home with her.
‘Oh, look.’ Flora had caught sight of yet another stall that she wanted to visit. ‘I heard that Aileen was here, we should go and see her knitwear. She might have something that Mette would like.’
Aksel nodded his agreement, and Flora led him over to the stall, introducing him to Aileen Sinclair, an older woman with greying hair, confiding the information that Aileen was Lyle’s mother and that she did a lot of knitting. That was self-evident from the racks of hats and scarves, and the sweaters laid out on two tables. Aileen smiled at him, sizing him up with an experienced eye.
‘I don’t know whether I can find anything to fit you, hen.’ Aileen seemed willing to try all the same, sorting through a small pile of chunky cableknit sweaters. ‘No, there isn’t much call for extra-large, and Mrs Bell bought the last one for her son. If there’s something you like, we can always make it up for you.’
‘Thank you.’ Aksel began to dutifully look through the sweaters. ‘Actually, we were looking for something for my daughter.’
Flora lifted Mette up so that she could run her hand across the fine, lace knitted children’s jumpers. Aileen greeted Mette with another of her beaming smiles, producing a tape measure from her pocket, and began to measure Mette’s arms.
‘What colour do you like, Mette?’ Flora always asked Mette what she liked rather than suggesting things to her.
‘Red.’ Mette had caught sight of Aileen’s bright red sweater, under her coat.
‘Very good choice. Maybe a lacy one?’ Aileen glanced at Flora and she nodded.