stains on the skirt of one of the dresses; clearly even these exclusive garments were not immune to accidents. She thanked her lucky stars that she didn’t have to lug around a suitcase full of designer gear, however much she enjoyed looking at it.
Something shiny caught her eye in the murky depths of the closet. Thóra removed a long dress from its hanger and saw that a pair of glasses was tangled in the fringe on the hem and hung from the skirt like an abstract ornament. The lenses appeared intact, but the glasses looked rather small to have been worn by the boat’s former mistress. ‘Do you know who these belonged to?’ She held up the dress to show Fannar her discovery.
He shook his head. ‘Not a clue. Maybe Karítas wore reading glasses.’
‘They don’t seem quite her style.’ Thóra inspected the small red frames. She thought she had better return the dress to its place and leave the glasses where they were. They couldn’t be very important: people didn’t jump ship en masse on account of a lost pair of glasses. They had probably been dangling there long before the missing family even came on board. She shut the wardrobe door and continued her exploration.
Again she came across an empty wine bottle, this time lying on the floor beside the bed. It appeared that someone had been drinking during the trip. Apart from that, the contents of the bedroom were very ordinary, at least those that belonged to the missing couple. The interior design was another matter, as imposing and ostentatious as the rest of the ship’s furnishings. The dark, polished mahogany gleamed in the glow of the spotlights recessed into the ceiling.
The en-suite bathroom was in chaos, with cosmetics, towels, bathrobes and bars of soap scattered all over the place, presumably as a result of the collision. She made do with peering inside but saw no point in picking her way through the mess just to admire the bathroom suite and mixer taps. The cabin told her nothing except that the couple had been comfortably accommodated on board, at least for most of the time. Personally, however, she wouldn’t have chosen to sleep in the bedroom of a woman she knew, if only by repute. It felt uncomfortable, especially when the closets were still full of her clothes and there was a box on the pretty dressing table that could only have belonged to her. Ordinary people like Ægir and Lára did not carry heavy, elegant jewellery cases with them on holiday. But when Thóra took a quick look inside, it turned out that Karítas had filled it with photos, postcards and other mementos of her life and travels rather than valuables. Thóra closed the case again. The former owner’s young wife could hardly be implicated in the mystery, and while she may have been a favourite of the tabloids, Thóra did not have the stomach to snoop around in her private affairs. Even so, on her way out of the bedroom she couldn’t help staring at the giant mirror that covered most of the wall and picturing Karítas admiring herself in it. This was unfair, given that Thóra had no idea what she was really like, and she resolved to make an effort to be more impartial next time the young woman entered her thoughts.
The two girls had slept in the smallest of the guest cabins, next to their parents. The instant Fannar opened the door they were struck by a pungent smell of strawberries, so sickly sweet that Thóra had to turn away. ‘A shampoo bottle burst in here,’ he explained. ‘I can’t imagine why anyone would want their hair to smell like that but maybe it’s not as overpowering once it’s been rinsed out.’
The girls had shared a double bed. Two cuddly toy rabbits lay abandoned amidst the tangle of bedclothes. Thóra was overwhelmed with sadness at the sight. To enhance the poignancy still further, it appeared that the twins had stuck a photo of their little sister on the headboard; a child who would one day grow up to thank her lucky stars that she hadn’t been old
Something shiny caught her eye in the murky depths of the closet. Thóra removed a long dress from its hanger and saw that a pair of glasses was tangled in the fringe on the hem and hung from the skirt like an abstract ornament. The lenses appeared intact, but the glasses looked rather small to have been worn by the boat’s former mistress. ‘Do you know who these belonged to?’ She held up the dress to show Fannar her discovery.
He shook his head. ‘Not a clue. Maybe Karítas wore reading glasses.’
‘They don’t seem quite her style.’ Thóra inspected the small red frames. She thought she had better return the dress to its place and leave the glasses where they were. They couldn’t be very important: people didn’t jump ship en masse on account of a lost pair of glasses. They had probably been dangling there long before the missing family even came on board. She shut the wardrobe door and continued her exploration.
Again she came across an empty wine bottle, this time lying on the floor beside the bed. It appeared that someone had been drinking during the trip. Apart from that, the contents of the bedroom were very ordinary, at least those that belonged to the missing couple. The interior design was another matter, as imposing and ostentatious as the rest of the ship’s furnishings. The dark, polished mahogany gleamed in the glow of the spotlights recessed into the ceiling.
The en-suite bathroom was in chaos, with cosmetics, towels, bathrobes and bars of soap scattered all over the place, presumably as a result of the collision. She made do with peering inside but saw no point in picking her way through the mess just to admire the bathroom suite and mixer taps. The cabin told her nothing except that the couple had been comfortably accommodated on board, at least for most of the time. Personally, however, she wouldn’t have chosen to sleep in the bedroom of a woman she knew, if only by repute. It felt uncomfortable, especially when the closets were still full of her clothes and there was a box on the pretty dressing table that could only have belonged to her. Ordinary people like Ægir and Lára did not carry heavy, elegant jewellery cases with them on holiday. But when Thóra took a quick look inside, it turned out that Karítas had filled it with photos, postcards and other mementos of her life and travels rather than valuables. Thóra closed the case again. The former owner’s young wife could hardly be implicated in the mystery, and while she may have been a favourite of the tabloids, Thóra did not have the stomach to snoop around in her private affairs. Even so, on her way out of the bedroom she couldn’t help staring at the giant mirror that covered most of the wall and picturing Karítas admiring herself in it. This was unfair, given that Thóra had no idea what she was really like, and she resolved to make an effort to be more impartial next time the young woman entered her thoughts.
The two girls had slept in the smallest of the guest cabins, next to their parents. The instant Fannar opened the door they were struck by a pungent smell of strawberries, so sickly sweet that Thóra had to turn away. ‘A shampoo bottle burst in here,’ he explained. ‘I can’t imagine why anyone would want their hair to smell like that but maybe it’s not as overpowering once it’s been rinsed out.’
The girls had shared a double bed. Two cuddly toy rabbits lay abandoned amidst the tangle of bedclothes. Thóra was overwhelmed with sadness at the sight. To enhance the poignancy still further, it appeared that the twins had stuck a photo of their little sister on the headboard; a child who would one day grow up to thank her lucky stars that she hadn’t been old
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