Fall Hard by J. L. Merrow Read Free Book Online Page B

unlucky.”
    I took a deep breath. “Oh.” I wanted to go home and change—better yet, burn the damn thing. “Did he like it?”
    She nodded. “He took it with him on his trip, you told me.”
    It seemed I’d made an awful lot of fuss over a simple gift. “Mags… Were things all right between us? Sven and me, I mean?”
    “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t, Paul. As far as I know, things were fine. You were just… just a little worried about upsetting him.”
    “I was scared of him?” There was a cold, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.
    “No! No, nothing like that. Of course not. It was just… I think he was a bit moody, sometimes, and you were never quite sure what might set him off. He wasn’t always like that,” she said quickly. I wondered what my face had given away. “Just… I think he was stressed the last few months before—the last few months you were here.”
    “Why? Had something happened?”
    “Well, I don’t think so. I just assumed it was his work.” Her smile looked forced. “You know how it is. We’re so insulated, here. But he had to work in the real world, and of course, with the economy the way it is…”
    I nodded, oddly relieved. Then a thought struck me. “So his family can’t have been hostile. I mean, if I’d been invited over, they must have been okay with Sven being gay.”
    Mags smiled. “You see? I told you that wasn’t it.” She took a sip from her coffee cup, holding it with both hands.
    Then why hadn’t Sven’s mother come to see me in hospital? I wondered. Had she blamed me for his death? The cold emptiness inside me was back.
    Had it been my fault Sven had died?
    “There weren’t any witnesses,” I blurted out just as Mags turned to go. She spun back around to face me, and her coffee sloshed over her hand. “Sorry—didn’t mean to startle you.” I grabbed a handful of paper napkins from beside the machine and tried to mop her up. “You didn’t burn your hand, did you?”
    “No, no. I’m fine. Sorry, what did you say?”
    I took a deep breath. “The accident. Nobody saw what happened, did they?”
    “No, that’s right. There were some tourists down at the bottom of the cliffs. Near where you fell—you know you just missed going into the water, don’t you? You were so lucky,” she added, her face a little pink. “If you’d gone into the river, been carried over the falls…”
    “I’d be dead,” I finished for her. “Like Sven.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said. “This must be so…”
    “So what, exactly?” I made an angry gesture. Guilt stabbed me as Mags flinched visibly, almost spilling her coffee again. “Sorry.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Maybe I should just go home and forget about today. I’m making a bloody mess of it.”
    It was my turn to startle as Mags put a hand on my arm. “Paul. It’s all right. All this is bound to be frustrating. Come on, let’s get you a coffee. You’ll feel better after that.”
    She poured a coffee, added creamer, stirred it in and even insisted on carrying the cup to my desk, saying she was “going that way anyway”, which I didn’t believe for a minute. I let her mother me, feeling embarrassed but grateful.
    I recalled what I’d meant to ask her about. “Mags, do you remember a man called Viggo? Apparently he was a friend of mine when I was here before.”
    She frowned, her brow falling into familiar creases. “I’m not sure. The name rings a faint bell. More of a little tinkle, really.” Mags gave a crooked smile. “What does he look like?”
    My tongue stumbled on how to describe him without making my fascination plain. “Like…like Thorolfr Skallagrimsson,” I said finally. Great job, I told myself.
    Mags laughed. “Egil’s better-looking brother? I hope he comes to a happier end.”
    “Thorolfr died a hero’s death,” I protested.
    “He didn’t live to see forty, though, did he? There’s a lot to be said for dying in bed, surrounded by grandchildren.”