When the island came into view, a dark slanted veil hung over it. Oda pressed her forehead against one of the windows. Nowhere else in this wide span of the North Sea was it raining.
She would make Hanne tell the person in the ticket house on the island （Oda pictured the woman eating a mustard sandwich, though she knew of course it would not be the same person） about the suitcase and arrange to have it brought over. She would make Hanne pay for it out of her small allowance. She would not be soft about it.
But when the boat slowed and she and Hanne stood in the pelting rain with the other passengers waiting for the boat to connect with shore, she could see there was no ticket shack here.
“I’ll bring over your daughter’s duffel on the late boat,” the man in the jumpsuit said, as if she had asked him.
“It’s not a duffel. It’s a suitcase.” She didn’t want him to bring the wrong bag.
“And you tell me not to be rude,” Hanne said and walked ahead of her up the ramp.
Over the phone she’d had the innkeeper describe in detail the one room he had left. A double bed, a green desk, blue walls, cotton rug, a view of the water from two of the three windows. And a floral armchair. What colors? she’d asked. He’d paused. Burgundy and pink. She was certain he was making it up. He’d already put the phone down twice to answer her previous questions. He’d tried to hide his disappointment when she said she’d take it for two weeks in July.
The room was precisely as he’d described it and nothing like Oda had imagined. He’d told her its dimensions and she’d measured it out in her living room as she spoke to him. But the actual walls made it seem much smaller.
“Everything all right?”
They were still standing in the doorway.
“There’s only one bed,” Hanne said.
The innkeeper looked at Oda. He’d explained on the phone that there wasn’t room for an extra rollaway and she’d lied and said they were used to sleeping in the same bed. “It will be fine,” she said.
He was also not how she’d imagined, younger, bearded, in tight padded shorts.
“Sorry. I’ve just been out for a ride.” She must have been staring.
“On a horse?” Hanne said.
He laughed. “A bike.”
“I saw a horse on the ferry,” Hanne said in a tone Oda thought she reserved just for her.
He laughed again. “There was a horse on the ferry?”
“I saw it from the ferry.”
Her tone didn’t seem to bother him. “There’s a stable on the east end. They rent out, if you’re interested.”
“I don’t know how to ride.”
“She’ll teach you. Her name’s Pilar. She’s from Sevilla but her German is excellent.”
“Pilar,” Hanne said.
“I could give her a ring and arrange it.”
“I’d like that.”
Oda couldn’t afford to rent a horse for an hour let alone pay for a series of riding lessons. Surely Hanne knew that. All her savings for the year would be eaten up by this holiday. She would have to slip downstairs before he made that call.
He left and they were alone. Oda snapped on both lights because the afternoon was so dark, but it only made things worse so she put them out again, and it was even darker than before.
It was true that the armchair was burgundy and pink. It was also true that two of the windows faced the sea. But the sea was indistinguishable from the sky, rain, and fog so what did it matter? Fritz would be laughing now, at the expense, the effort, the view of nothing. But she only felt guilty that she was looking out at wet blots and blurs of gray he would never see. He’d planned all their trips, always south, toward the sun. Now she understood why.
“You don’t want me riding,” Hanne said.
In one way she was lucky her daughter was only twelve and could only imagine that Oda was brooding about horses.
“I’ve always wanted to learn, you know.”
Fritz had left her with debts on three credit cards, large debts that she had only just paid off this spring. She wasn’t going to fall behind for something as frivolous as riding lessons.
When Oda went downstairs, the innkeeper was setting tables. He asked if they had everything they needed.
“Where is the nearest shop for crackers and such?” She did not want to tell him she would be buying the food for most of their meals and fixing them in her room. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day she might dare to ask for a small spot in his fridge for sliced meats and cheeses.