6

IT WAS CRAZY to ask Siggi to take her to the IMO. Wasn't it? Iris had made an appointment for that afternoon with Bjarkey, someone Jay had suggested she get in touch with. Apparently, he was the remote monitoring expert at the IMO. She wasn't exactly looking forward to it, well aware that she could easily come across as someone flouncing into their office and telling them she knew better. How she was interpreting the data was unconventional, but she was slowly gathering enough data to prove her point. So stressing about whether to take Siggi up on his offer was a welcome distraction.

Iris had found a coffee shop along the street from the hotel, so after breakfast she took her laptop there, ordered a flat white and sat at a table for two in a cosy corner while she checked in on the data that her seismometer had hopefully been retrieving in Hraunvik. Thankfully, the signal was good and there was some data there, consistent with what the IMO had been gathering, according to what they'd published. That would make this afternoon easier. She could correlate her data to theirs and then explain the nuances that she would spend the rest of the morning deciphering.

After an hour or so, Iris got up to order another coffee, then checked her phone before she engrossed herself in work again. There was a text from Siggi.

What time shall I collect you?

His confidence in assuming she was planning to take him up on his offer made her smile.

Don't you have anything better to do?

No

How long does it take to get there?

15 mins

He either knew where it was, or he'd looked. Iris hoped it was the latter. She paused, then decided, why not?

Meet you at your office at 13.15?

Siggi replied with a thumbs up emoji. It was a done deal.

That afternoon, she arrived at his office just after one o'clock. He was standing talking to another man who was sitting at the desk.

‘Hi,' she said.

‘Hey, Iris,' Siggi said, with a warm smile. ‘Olafur, this is Iris, the volcanologist I was telling you about.'

‘Welcome, Iris,' said Olafur, holding out a huge hand for her to shake. He was about twice the size of Siggi and looked a bit like a viking. Perhaps more typical of what she imagined an Icelander to look like than Siggi was.

‘This is Olafur, a friend and a colleague.'

‘Nice to meet you,' said Iris.

‘Has Siggi asked you to come to the bar tonight?'

All sorts of things whipped through Iris's head. Did Olafur somehow think she and Siggi were an item, and if he did, did that mean Siggi bizarrely thought the same? Did Olafur think she and Siggi somehow already knew each other and hadn't just met two days ago? Thankfully, Siggi stepped in, speaking Icelandic to Olafur.

Then he turned to Iris and said, ‘I am sorry. My friends assume that everyone we meet who is travelling alone needs to be entertained. It happens all the time.'

‘Siggi, invite her properly, please. Or Gudrun will have something to say about it.'

Siggi rolled his eyes. ‘Would you like to come to the bar tonight? There is a group of us, some English people. It might be fun.'

He wasn't making it sound fun. And Iris wasn't getting the impression from him that he'd like her to go, and really, what other reason would there be?

‘Thanks for the invitation. Do you mind if I see how this afternoon goes? I'm still quite jet-lagged.'

‘Of course,' said Olafur. ‘We will see you if we see you. And take no notice of Siggi. He is quite grumpy.'

Iris laughed partly at Olafur's stark assessment of Siggi and partly at Siggi's look of resignation.

Siggi was mumbling under his breath in Icelandic as they walked to the jeep together.

‘I'm not going to come. Don't worry,' she said. If he was that annoyed that Olafur had asked her, he was making it simple for her to say no.

‘No, I would like you to come. I was thinking about asking you because it is interesting to see a city with someone who lives there. You see a different side of things. I am annoyed with Olafur for interfering. As if I cannot manage my own life.'

They reached the jeep and settled inside. Iris left her coat on, since it was going to be a brief journey.

‘Do you think they're trying to set us up?' she asked.

‘Probably.'

She didn't know what to say to that, but Siggi felt the need to fill the silence.

‘It is not just Olafur,' he said. ‘If you had walked into the office the other day and any of the others had been there, they would have asked you to join in with something like this as soon as they knew you were staying for a while and travelling alone. I prefer to wait. You might not be a person who wants to be involved in anything.'

‘And you might not like me,' Iris added, helpfully.

Siggi laughed. ‘That is not the case,' he said, smiling across at her.

‘You mean you prefer to sit back and get the lie of the land before jumping into anything.'

‘Yes, that is it. My friend Brun was working with an author last year. She came for a book tour and he was taking her everywhere she needed to go. He invited her to the open mic night and she went round to Rachel and Jonas's house to make bread.'

‘Okay,' Iris said, laughing.

‘And I am not sure you would want to do that.'

‘I'm not sure either. Can't I just come to the bar for a drink without having to go to anyone's house and make bread?'

‘You think it is funny, but they are together now.'

‘Are your friends that amazing that I'll want to get together with you just to be in the gang?' She blushed as she said it, feeling bold for even suggesting out loud that she and Siggi might get together.

‘I don't know what I am saying,' Siggi said, laughing and banging his hand on the steering wheel. ‘ But I do know that you would not be the first person to say yes to a night out and end up staying in Iceland forever.'

‘God, really? I mean, I am drawn to the volcanoes, but I'm not sure even that's enough to make me want to stay here.'

Siggi pulled up outside the IMO building. It was a huge concrete cube with windows in a vertical line down the side that faced the road. ‘If you end up staying forever, I will not be here. Just to be clear.'

‘So you're saying I'm safe to come for a drink?'

‘Yes, Iris,' he said, smiling at her. ‘It is safe. I would recommend you accept the invitation.'

Iris's stomach did a somersault. It was probably nerves about meeting Bjarkey. ‘So where shall I meet you?' She was fully intending to take a taxi back to the hotel.

‘Here, as soon as you're finished?'

‘No. You're not waiting for me.' She climbed out of the jeep. ‘I'm not going in until you've driven away. All the way down the road,' she said, nodding towards the busy dual-carriageway they'd just left. ‘I'm getting a taxi. Where shall I meet you?'

He smiled as if he was enjoying her getting cross with him. Iris imagined that could be infuriating if you were in a relationship with him.

‘I'll call you when I'm outside your hotel. Around eight?'

‘Okay. And thank you for the lift.' She slammed the door of the jeep and stood, waiting until he drove away. She was pretty sure he would be there when she came out otherwise. He saluted her with two fingers tapped to his forehead then drove off. It was mildly annoying that she thought that was cute.

Iris gathered herself, put Siggi out of her mind, and walked to the side of the building, looking for the entrance. She pushed the huge revolving glass door around and went to the reception desk to announce herself. A friendly man on the desk called Bjarkey for her.

Bjarkey was a smiley woman, a little older than Iris, with a blonde bob. Iris hadn't been able to tell from the name whether she was a man or a woman and, to her shame, had assumed it was a man.

‘Welcome Iris!'

‘Thank you for agreeing to meet me.'

‘When I heard about the research you are doing, I was very excited.'

‘Thank you,' said Iris, flattered. ‘I've been looking at some of your data. You've got an unbelievable amount.'

They took a lift to the fourth floor, then Bjarkey led the way into a room where the walls were lined with multiple screens. ‘This is our monitoring room. We have around fifty seismic stations around Iceland which all send live data. We also monitor the different frequencies and waves of the data to pinpoint locations more accurately. And we have live webcam feeds from some of the most active places.'

The sheer amount of information in front of Iris astounded her. ‘I'm not sure I can add much to this,' she said. ‘I bet you already have what I was planning to show you.' They just might not know they had it, but Iris didn't want to point out to Bjarkey that they could be sitting on valuable data that they weren't analysing.

‘I am not sure about that,' Bjarkey said, smiling. ‘Why don't we grab a coffee and we can take a look?'

Over coffee, Iris opened her laptop and showed Bjarkey the data she'd been collecting from Hraunvik.

Bjarkey frowned. ‘I do not understand. You have a seismometer set up somewhere in the town?'

‘Yes. I set it up yesterday. Do you have any in that area?'

‘We do.' She pulled up the data on her own screen.

‘Okay, so we can see the readings are very similar, but I have mine set to record a different frequency besides the normal stuff we would look at,' said Iris. Now she was hitting her stride. She'd forgotten any of the worries she'd had before she'd arrived. And Bjarkey's open-minded response had helped.

‘This low frequency is not something we would normally look at because it indicates something further away. Not relevant to the area we are interested in.'

‘Right. But if you amplify the frequency like this.' Iris clicked a button to show the change in her data. ‘It shows you that the low frequency is actually a pre-cursor to what is happening later on on the higher frequencies.'

Bjarkey clicked the button, toggling the view on the screen between the two examples. ‘But how have you done this?'

‘It's an adjustment to the seismometer settings and also a change in how the raw data is logged.'

‘Can you show me where you have got to? Have you any data leading up to an eruption event?'

They pored over Iris's data for the rest of the day, and it was six o'clock before they finished.

‘It's incredible,' said Bjarkey. ‘And it is great timing for you to be here now.'

Iris didn't like to point out that her visit was entirely intentional, and instead asked Bjarkey for the number of a taxi firm.

‘Don't be silly, I can drop you at your hotel. I am going that way, anyway.'

‘Thanks, that would be great.'

‘Do you have any plans for the weekend?' Bjarkey asked once they were in her car and speeding back the way Siggi had come earlier. Iris smiled at the thought that Siggi would have been waiting outside for four hours if she hadn't insisted he leave.

‘I'm going out with some locals tonight.'

Bjarkey laughed. ‘How have you already met locals after two days?'

‘I walked into a tour company office and came across the most helpful guy in the country.'

‘Ah, a guy?'

‘It's not like that.'

‘Of course not. I am sure he is helpful to everybody who walks in off the street.'

‘I think he is!' Iris laughed. ‘Anyway, he travels a lot and thinks it's good to spend time with locals to really get the feel of a place.'

‘He is probably right about that. Is this your hotel?'

‘Yes. Thank you so much, Bjarkey. It's been great to meet you.'

‘Email me. We will take a trip to Hraunvik next week, yes?'

‘Okay.' Iris was thrilled. ‘I can't wait.'

‘Enjoy yourself tonight!'

Back in her room, Iris contemplated what she might wear for a night on the town. All she had at her disposal was a reasonable pair of jeans. They were dark, at least. Having not planned on a night out in Iceland, she had nothing fancier than a long-sleeved t-shirt and short-sleeved t-shirt layering situation to fall back on. If it had been warmer, she had a couple of pretty tops she'd bought in Hawaii but she'd freeze in those here, even in a centrally heated bar. Luckily one of her t-shirts was a vintage Fleetwood Mac one that she'd taken from her mother's drawer back in the sixth-form. She put it on and thought she looked okay. After all, how dressed up did anyone need to be if they were going to a bar?

She ran some hair oil through her fingers and scrunched it into the ends of her curls to take some of the frizz out, then finished with a lick of mascara and some lipstick. At that moment, her phone buzzed with a message from Siggi saying he was outside.

Iris grabbed her coat, betting on the fact that the bar wouldn't be too far away because she left her hat behind, not wanting to flatten her hair, which looked better than she would normally expect for such minimal effort.

She flew down the stairs and out of the hotel, finding Siggi waiting, leaning against the wall with his hat on and his hands in his pockets. His face broke into a smile when he saw her.

‘You look great,' he said easily, as if they did this kind of thing all the time.

‘Thanks. So do you.' He actually looked exactly the same as every other time she'd seen him, but he was the kind of guy that probably always looked effortlessly good.

‘You had a good day?' He took Iris's hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm.

‘Yes, and it was a good job you didn't wait for me because I only got back an hour ago.'

He shrugged. ‘I would not have minded.'

They walked only for another minute or so before Siggi stopped beside some concrete steps that led up into the building on the corner of the street.

‘Here we are,' he said. ‘This is where they come every Friday. Islenski Barinn .'

Iris went up the steps, thinking that it was a little odd that Siggi was distancing himself from his group of friends by saying "they" come here every Friday.

‘You don't come all the time?' she asked before she pulled the door open.

He shook his head. ‘I am not always here. And I don't mind working on a Friday so that they can come here.'

The bar was lively, dimly lit and pretty traditional from what Iris could see. Certainly it wasn't trying to be trendy and didn't seem to follow any particular theme. It was welcoming and comfortable.

‘Over here,' Siggi said, holding his arm out, gesturing for Iris to go ahead of him. His friends had commandeered a table next to one of the windows that looked out onto the street. There were six of them. Iris recognised Olafur from the office earlier that day. Siggi did some quick introductions, but basically they were three couples. Jonas, who owned the tour company that Siggi and Olafur worked for, his wife Rachel, who was English, then Olafur and his girlfriend Gudrun and Brun and his girlfriend Fliss, also English.

‘Ned and Anna are in London this weekend, but they're usually part of the gang too,' said Rachel.

‘It's great to meet you all,' Iris said, feeling a little overwhelmed. She hadn't had a night out like this in a group since she was at university. It felt good, and everyone was so welcoming.

Siggi suggested they go up to the bar together and took orders from his friends,which he repeated to Iris. ‘I'll never remember,' he said. ‘What would you like?'

Iris scanned the bar and opted for a locally brewed beer.

‘It's a good choice,' Siggi said, then adding his and everyone else's drinks to the order.

‘Your friends are so —'

‘Friendly?' He'd jumped in so quickly, it made her laugh.

‘Yes!'

‘I did warn you,' he said, raising his eyebrows and grinning.

‘Well, I think it's nice,' she said. Because it was. She felt like she was part of something, and even if it was only for a little while, only for as long as she was in Reykjavik, she was going to take it. ‘Thank you for asking me to come.'

For a moment, she thought Siggi might joke that Olafur had asked her, not him. But his expression turned from playful to something more thoughtful. ‘You're welcome, Iris. I enjoy spending time with you.'

Her stomach flipped and she was lost in his gaze for a second. Then the barman interrupted them, setting out their drinks order on the bar.

‘I'll take some of these over,' she said, tearing her eyes from his.

‘Iris.'

She stopped breathing for a moment, as if by inhaling she might miss something he said.

‘Thank you for coming.'

She exhaled as she smiled. And for the rest of the evening, she kept playing his words over and over in her head. I enjoy spending time with you . Had any words ever had such a significant effect on her? She didn't think so. She hugged them to herself as she enjoyed the rest of the night and then fell asleep with them humming in her ears like a lullaby.