Why Did You Lie? Read Free Page B

aim the camera without bumping into his companions while they work. If he can ever actually summon up the courage to make the move from the helipad to the lighthouse, that is.
    It’s hardly any distance but that doesn’t make it any less daunting. Involuntarily Helgi grabs hold of a pile of equipment to combat his dizziness. Out of the corner of his eye he catches sight of the young woman who is also searching for something to hold on to, and feels ashamed of himself for not being a proper man like the others. To mask his embarrassment, he starts taking photos completely at random until the men seem to have finished their task.
    Gingerly he inches after them as they stride, sure-footed, over to the lighthouse. He is aware of the woman behind him but doesn’t dare look round. A rattle of loose gravel and unnaturally rapid breathing indicate that she is following close on his heels. He concentrates on the lighthouse, which looks so small you would have thought it had been built for one of Snow White’s seven dwarfs. Once there, he heaves a sigh of relief and presses himself against the rough wall. The woman stations herself beside him, her cheeks ruddy, her eyes betraying a hint of anxiety, as if she has been brought here against her will – or her better judgement. She’s kitted out like a veteran, in drab green outdoor gear, designed with an eye to protecting her from the cold rather than enhancing her feminine charms. But the clothes are brand new and she looks about as pleased to be there as him.
    Helgi opens his mouth to offer comfort, partly as a means of bolstering his own courage, but can’t find the right words. Together they gaze in silence at the view from the rock, at the heaving, glittering surface of the sea and almost cloudless vault of the sky. Helgi shoots a glance at the woman whose name, he now remembers, is Heida. He guesses that she is the technician who has been sent, in a last-minute decision, to update the radio transmitter and GPS equipment in the lighthouse. Tóti, the man with Ívar, must be the other carpenter, as no manual worker would have long pink nails like Heida’s.
    Ívar sticks his head inside the lighthouse, turns and looks at Heida and Helgi for a moment then climbs onto the step in front of the door and stamps imaginary dirt off his shoes. Tóti follows on his heels. Ívar puts his hands on his hips and sighs, then shoves a knife in the leather sheath attached to his belt. Helgi regrets not having brought along his hunting knife to fit in better.
    ‘Right,’ says Ívar. ‘No point hanging about. There’s no time to lose if we’re going to finish by tomorrow evening.’
    Slowly Helgi detaches himself from the wall and feels as if he’s reeling. ‘If you like, I might be able to help. I won’t be taking pictures all the time.’
    The men barely react, though Ívar mutters that he’ll bear it in mind. They enter the lighthouse and Heida follows, but the space is so tiny that one person is forced to stand in the doorway. Helgi allows his rapid heartbeat to slow as he listens to the sound of their voices inside. This is incredible. Here he is, standing on a pillar of rock hardly any bigger in area than his flat, surrounded on all sides by the freezing ocean, which seems to be just waiting for one of them to lose their footing. This is no place for a human being to spend an hour, let alone the whole night.
    His thoughts return to his dream and although he can remember little about it, he’s pretty sure his imagination fell far short of the reality. He tries to pick out the helicopter on the horizon but it has gone. There’s nothing to see for the moment, so he moves slowly over to join the others, clinging onto the wall all the while, and peers in through the doorway over Tóti’s shoulder.
    Inside, Heida and Ívar are bending over something he can’t see. But his attention is drawn not to the people but to the whitewashed walls of this tiny space. More snatches of his dream