The Mist

other end, then he burst out laughing. ‘Nice one, Hulda! The answer is no – no chance.’
‘Do you … is there anyone … The thing is, I’ve got a bit of a problem at home,’ she persisted, trying to stop her voice from wobbling.
‘You haven’t got a hope in hell of getting someone else to take your shift at such short notice. You’ll just have to come in tomorrow and find some other way to solve the problem at home.’
‘Yes, I … suppose…’
‘Listen, while I remember, there was a message for you when I arrived this morning. Someone on the switchboard took it down.’
‘A message?’
‘Yes, that you should ring some number, hang on … six-five-six something, I can’t remember the rest. Just a sec.’
Hulda wanted to hang up; she had absolutely no interest in dealing with work matters today, but she waited in spite of herself. Finally, her colleague located the phone number, but the message had apparently contained no other information.
‘Could you look it up for me?’ she asked. ‘I can’t think whose number it is.’
‘Yes, sure, of course. It’s not as if I’ve got much else to do. Give me a minute.’ There was a rustling as he put down the receiver. After a short interval he picked it up again: ‘It’s a Gardabær number, Kolbrún and Haukur –’
‘Oh, right, them…’ She wondered why on earth they had been trying to get hold of her. ‘When did they call?’
‘It doesn’t say. Could have been yesterday evening, or maybe this morning. When did you leave work?’
‘Yesterday afternoon … Right, OK, I’ll … I’ll ring them.’
The parents of the girl who had vanished … The case that had been so much on her mind recently. Perhaps they wanted to know how matters stood, before everything shut down for the holiday.
Hulda considered returning their call then and there, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She had enough to cope with at home. Instead, she decided to put it off until she was at work tomorrow, since it seemed she had no alternative but to go into the office.

XV
When Erla resurfaced, after going back to bed at her husband’s suggestion, her first thought was a fervent prayer that the events of the morning had been nothing but a long, unsettling dream; that Leó had finally left and Anna had arrived, so that Christmas could begin in earnest.
To distract herself, she focused on the ordinary household chores she needed to do before evening, like getting dinner ready, which would mean boiling the smoked lamb on the gas cooker and making sure the house was spick and span by 6 p.m., when the Icelandic Christmas celebrations traditionally began. She found herself smiling in anticipation, but her smile faded when she remembered the power cut. What a nuisance: they would miss the carol service this year. They did have a battery-run transistor, but it had stopped working ages ago and Einar had never got round to taking it in to be fixed. At the time he had said he’d gladly do without news for a few days the next time they had a power cut: ‘It’s nothing but doom and gloom anyway. We’re better off without it.’
The sound of Leó’s voice from the sitting room broke into her happy daydream and brought her crashing down to earth.
‘Hell,’ she muttered to herself, and checked the alarm clock. She had slept to midday. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that. It must be because she’d lain awake so long last night.
Anna. Surely Anna must be here by now. She always got here by lunchtime, Erla thought to herself, smiling again. And with Anna there to back her up, perhaps Erla would survive Leó’s visit after all.
She climbed out of bed, pulled on some clothes and made her way slowly along the passage to the sitting room. There they sat, Einar and Leó, as if they hadn’t stirred since this morning. They had blown out the candles, and a pale, watery light was filtering in through the windows. Dawn, such as it was in winter, had broken, and it made sense to spare the candles and make the most of whatever daylight they got, since the darkness would close in again in just over three hours’ time. It had stopped snowing, thank God, so perhaps they would be able to get shot of Leó after all.
‘Where’s Anna?’ she asked.
She was met by silence. Leó dropped his eyes, avoiding her gaze.
‘Why isn’t Anna here? It’s lunchtime, Einar. She should be here by now.’
Einar rose to his feet. ‘It’s all right, love. Come and sit down; I’ll get some coffee.’
He went into the kitchen and came back with a cup, which he put on the table and filled with coffee. She felt as if the morning was repeating itself, as if she were caught in some sort of nightmarish loop.
‘It’s not all right, Einar. It’s Christmas Eve, and she’s never been this late before. And there you are, behaving as if nothing was wrong!’ Erla made a sudden move towards him and gave him a shove. ‘What’s the matter with you? Why are you being like this?’ Even as she said it, she realized she was taking out her anger on the wrong man. She had only one ally here and that was her husband. She rounded on Leó instead.
‘It’s time you stopped lying to us, Leó!’ she said aggressively, taking a step towards him. He looked alarmed – the bastard was actually frightened of her! Serve him right.
‘I … I’m not lying,’ he stammered.
She went over and sat down on the sofa beside him, although there wasn’t much room. She was going to get the truth out of him, whatever it took.
‘You claimed you found our house by chance, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, thank God … I reckon it saved my life,’ he faltered.
He was nervous, there was no question of it.
‘You’re lying. That’s a lie. I saw your tracks in the snow. You followed the road here. Oh, yes, you told us that – that