Strange Shores

30

Ezra did not relinquish his grip on the shotgun but laid it across his knees as he sat down facing Erlendur in the kitchen. Keeping his finger on the trigger, he stroked the barrel as he recounted his tale in a low voice. He had difficulty putting it into words, partly because he hadn’t spoken of it for decades and was reluctant to do so now, partly because he had never really got over the events, though they had happened a lifetime ago. It was all so vivid — every detail, every conversation and incident, as if it had only just taken place. His account was punctuated by long silences that Erlendur was careful not to interrupt. Slowly, painfully, the story took shape. Ezra would not be rushed and Erlendur was content to let him dictate the pace.

The old man confirmed most of what Hrund had learned from her mother about how the affair had begun. The letter had been the tipping point, though Matthildur’s marriage had already been showing cracks.

‘Jakob was a mate of mine,’ said Ezra. ‘I don’t remember if I told you before or how much you know. I met him in Djúpivogur shortly after I moved out here to the fjords. He helped me out during my first season. I was the new boy in a strange place and got on well with him. As far as I knew, other people liked him too. He didn’t really stick out from the crowd, though he. . he was popular with the ladies. I don’t know how else to put it. He had a way with women.’

‘Perhaps that explains his bad reputation.’

‘He didn’t care if they were married. I saw him get into a fight once because of that.’

‘Was it any different from your affair with Matthildur?’

‘I wasn’t like him,’ said Ezra sharply. ‘There’s no comparison.’

‘Do you remember Matthildur’s sister Ingunn from your time in Djúpivogur?’

‘No, not at all,’ replied Ezra. ‘Matthildur asked me that too. She showed me a picture of her. I told her Jakob had been a hit with the ladies, but I didn’t know who. I moved to Eskifjördur long before he did. By the time he arrived he was already involved with Matthildur. We joined the same fishing boat and that’s how I met her, after they were married. I used to drop by to fetch Jakob early in the morning, so Matthildur and I got to know each other.’

‘Several people have tried to describe Jakob to me but I can’t make him out at all,’ said Erlendur. ‘Someone told me he suffered from claustrophobia. Does that ring any bells?’

‘Well, all I know is Matthildur told me he couldn’t sleep with the bedroom door shut. He always kept it open and had to sleep on the side nearest to it.’

‘It must have come as a terrible shock when Matthildur heard about him and Ingunn,’ said Erlendur.

Ezra had grown visibly calmer, though he was still hugging the gun tightly. His defiance had largely evaporated, as if he were reconciled to there being no getting rid of Erlendur.

‘Poor girl,’ he sighed.

‘One can feel for her dilemma.’

‘Feel for her?’ said Ezra quietly, as if to himself. ‘How could you begin to understand? You don’t have a clue what you’re on about.’

Erlendur said nothing.

‘Not a clue,’ repeated Ezra.

More than two months had passed since Matthildur’s disappearance and the search had failed to turn up any trace of her. Ezra had been crushed with grief since the second Jakob informed him that she was out in the storm. But he was isolated in his anguish; his secret beyond sharing. He had considered talking to the vicar but he had never been religious and the local priest was a stranger. So he sat at home, weeping silently. The grief came in waves, interspersed with feelings of fear and anger, helplessness and a bewildering sensation of being adrift. But worst of all were the bouts of recrimination, for there was no one he could blame but himself. He should have taken better care of her, should have been there to save her from her fate. What role had he played in her death? He had lured her away from her husband. Was that why she had gone out in the storm? He was tortured by guilt, though he tried to assuage his remorse by persuading himself that he could not have saved her; she would have made the journey regardless. Perhaps she had been destined to die like that. But no! Her journey must have been linked to their affair, to their forbidden love, to all that furtiveness and deceit. Why, oh, why hadn’t they come clean straight away and simply moved in together? Why?

Jakob was the only person who could conceivably provide him with answers, but he couldn’t for the life of him summon up the courage to approach him. He didn’t trust himself. Perhaps he was afraid to hear the truth.

It was March, the days were growing longer and spring was in the air when their paths finally crossed. Until now, Ezra had avoided all contact with Jakob. He still mourned Matthildur desperately and thought about her every day, about the few, all too brief hours they had shared. They had just begun to discuss their future, the possibility of moving away, because it would be inconceivable to remain living near Jakob.

‘We could move to Reykjavík,’ she suggested one evening when she had stolen round to see him.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Though they say it’s almost impossible to find rooms. Everyone’s flocking there to work for the army. Have you told him you’re going to leave him?’

‘I. .’

‘Do you want me to be there?’

‘No,’ she said.

‘There’s never a right time,’ he said. ‘It would be best to give it to him straight, as soon as possible. I’d do it for you if you’d let me.’

‘It would sound better coming from me.’

‘Hasn’t he started to suspect?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t think so.’

‘What are you frightened of? That he’ll get violent?’

‘Not with me,’ said Matthildur. ‘It’s you I’m afraid for.’

‘He can’t hurt me,’ said Ezra. ‘There’s nothing he can do to me. I’m not scared of him, Matthildur.’

‘I know.’

‘I don’t like it one bit. He’s never done me any harm and I look on him as a friend. We used to work together. So. . I’m not finding this easy. But I don’t believe we have anything to be afraid of by telling him. We have to talk to him — make him understand what’s happened. It’s not as if it’s unusual. People are always falling in love with the wrong person.’

‘I know,’ Matthildur said again.

They lay side by side under his blanket, quietly savouring the warmth from each other’s body. A diffident tap at his door had sounded towards midnight. He hadn’t been expecting her and was delighted by her surprise visit. They had kissed; he had broken off to stroke her face wonderingly, then they kissed again, with growing intensity, until he half carried her to the bedroom. They did not even undress properly but made love with all the hunger and passion that she roused in him. She had to muffle the cries that rose to her lips, born of a rapture that she had never experienced with her husband.

‘Jakob mustn’t find out before we talk to him,’ said Ezra as he lay beside her. ‘He mustn’t hear it from anyone else. We have to be honest with him before the news gets out.’

‘I’ll talk to him,’ said Matthildur. ‘I promise.’

‘Let me come too. He’s supposed to be my friend.’

‘No, it’s best if I do it alone. I’m sure it would be. I’ll talk to him and tell him I’m going to move in with you. Explain that I can’t stay with him after what’s happened, after the news of him and Ingunn ruined everything. And because I’ve fallen in love.’

‘All right,’ he said. ‘But I still want to come with you.’

‘Stop worrying so much about Jakob. Concentrate on us instead. On the two of us.’

Then she was gone.

Then came the sunny day in March, two months later, when he bumped into Jakob. Ezra was passing the cemetery when he heard a voice hail him over the wall. Looking in, he saw Jakob working there in his shirtsleeves. He was preparing for a funeral that was to be held at the church the following day. A local man had died in his prime after a short illness and a good turnout was expected. Ezra went in through the gate.

‘Where are you off to then?’ Jakob asked, taking a break from his labours. He did odd jobs for the church, mostly maintenance and gravedigging.

Ezra explained and added awkwardly that he was in a hurry. He felt uncomfortable in Jakob’s presence, tortured by the possibility that Matthildur had confessed their affair or he had discovered it by other means. They had been extremely careful but one could never be sure.

‘I never see you any more,’ said Jakob.

‘I’ve been busy.’

‘Working hard, eh?’ said Jakob. ‘The meek will inherit the earth all right. And that’s us, Ezra. Workers like you and me.’