Northern Lights Read Online Free PDF Page B

with me, and soon I know you and you know me.”
    I am desperate to say yes, but the memory of Richard’s words during our last argument holds me back. God knows I didn’t set out with the intention of scrounging off him, but that’s the way it turned out. I don’t want to make the same mistake with Kári.
    “I don’t want to put you out of pocket.” He looks at me blankly, so I try again. “I don’t want to take your money.”
    Kári shrugs. “You stay as my guest now. Later, you find work. What can you do?”
    “Well, I studied journalism, but I quickly discovered it wasn’t the life for me. The wages were terrible, and as for the hours…. I do like writing, only that doesn’t exactly pay the bills, not so far. I like photography too, though I think the fall wrecked my camera.”
    “This is easy. The park needs new leaflets for English tourists. You can write and take the photos. Use my camera. I call my boss and it is done, yes? If you decide you still like me, if you want to stay longer, we find something else for you after.”
    “And immigration? I can’t remember the details, but I know there’s a limit on how long I can stay without a visa, or paperwork, or something. Hell, I’m not even sure if I’m allowed to work here.”
    Kári waves away this concern as he did the last. “We fix. No problem.” He laughs. “You worry too much, James. You must relax.”
    I don’t know whether it’s Kári’s accent or just the fact he calls me James—rather than Jimmy, as everyone else does—but there’s something about hearing my name on his lips that makes my pulse race. I can’t wait to hear how it will sound in other situations, when he whispers it into my ear, or yells it as he comes inside me. I know it’s mad after so short an acquaintance, but being with him feels “right” in a way it never did with Richard, and I’m filled with a greater sense of hope than I’ve had in a long time. The world that yesterday I thought had abandoned me and left me to rot is suddenly full of tantalizing possibilities once more.
    A glint catches my eye, and I look across the room to see bright patches of sunlight slipping in from behind the curtain. “It’s morning? Already?”
    “Yes, Mother Night is over and the sun returns.” Kári stands and stretches. “I will make breakfast. Then we go to the hospital.” I start to protest that I feel fine, but he silences me with a look that brooks no argument. “We make sure. Then we go to your hotel and get your things. If you do not change your mind…?” He pauses and looks down at me expectantly.
    “No, I’ve not changed my mind.”
    “Good! Today I must work, but Christmas we visit my sister. You will like her. She is very funny.”
    “Christmas? But I thought you were pagan?”
    “I am pagan. My sister is Christian.” He shrugs. “It makes no difference. We still enjoy good meal together, give gifts.”
    I nod. He’s right at that: it doesn’t make any difference. In fact, I find myself fascinated by the idea of learning more about his religion, and the first traces of a storyline for a novel begin to form in my mind. It seems I was right—Reykjavik is going to be a source inspiration for my writing, just not in the way I’d originally expected.
    Forty minutes later, we’ve eaten a hearty breakfast and Kári has helped me into the compact bathroom—fully plumbed, not an outhouse in sight—to freshen up. My ankle is still swollen, but it’s less sore than when I first awoke in the park, and I can manage to hobble around with only minimal assistance. Kári insists we get it checked out by a qualified doctor, but he doubts they’ll need to admit me, and I’m hoping his assessment is correct.
    “Are you ready?”
    Kári emerges from the bathroom, and I can’t help but feast my gaze on him. He’s washed off the remainder of the gunk from his forehead, and his complexion is still rosy from the scrubbing, highlighting his beautiful blue