BooksBarbecue
Back Cold as Hell Save as PDF
Chapters (115)
  1. COLD AS HELL
  2. PRONUNCIATION GUIDE
  3. CONTENTS
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. 92
  96. 93
  97. 94
  98. 95
  99. 96
  100. 97
  101. 98
  102. 99
  103. 100
  104. 101
  105. 102
  106. 103
  107. 104
  108. 105
  109. 106
  110. 107
  111. 108
  112. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  113. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  114. ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR
  115. COPYRIGHT

They were still there on the landing, but had stepped back from her door as if they were wondering whether she was going to come back and open it for them or not. Normally people waited by a door with a set expression, facing it and ready with a greeting, but now the man and the woman faced each other, as if they had been whispering. Olga forced a smile and prayed that Omar would see the message as soon he had finished lifting weights, and wouldn’t come bursting in while the police were there.

‘Hello. I’m Ísafold’s mother, the one who lives opposite,’ the woman said in slow Icelandic, pointing at Ísafold’s and Björn’s door on the far side of the landing. Then she switched to English to continue her explanation, and Olga’s knees felt weak with relief, and she wanted to laugh. They weren’t here to take Omar away. 159He was still safe with her, and nothing had changed. The authorities still had no idea where he was.

She said the same to Ísafold’s mother as she had already told her sister: that she knew Ísafold well, and they sometimes chatted over tea or coffee. She didn’t mention that it was normally Omar who drank tea with Ísafold, as that didn’t make any difference. She said Björn had told her that Ísafold was visiting relatives in Britain, so it had been a surprise to see a picture on Facebook of her on holiday in Italy.

Once the conversation was over, she shut the door in what was almost a discourteous rush, as she had to let Omar know that he was safe. He picked up immediately, and she could hear the desperation in his voice.

‘Omar, it’s all right,’ she said. ‘It was just Ísafold-next-door’s mother looking for her, and the policeman with her is her cousin. I don’t know if they’re allowed to do that, waving a police ID when it’s personal business, but I was just so relieved it was nothing to do with you…’

Her relief evaporated as she heard Omar fighting back a sob.

‘Omar—’ she began, but he interrupted her, his voice shrill and wild, his gasping breaths roaring down the line like a storm.

‘Why do you always ask about Ísafold? Why you ask of her?’

Olga wasn’t able to work out if he was confused and frightened, or simply bursting with rage.

160

66