“I’m . . . Patrick,” he said. I could tell he wasn’t used to kids. “How are you?”
“Why are you wearing a swimsuit, Clover?” I asked.
She toggled the goggles over her eyes. “Just to look fabulous.”
Patrick grinned. “I like your style,” he told her.
“Thanks,” she said primly. Then, “I like your shoes.”
He looked down at his shoes and smiled. “Oh. Thanks.”
“Who is this?” another voice said. Luna, studying Patrick with a serious expression.
“This is Patrick Roberts,” I told her. “He owns the Longing.”
She looked him up and down. “You own the Longing?”
He grinned, still nervous. “Uh, yes. I bought it last year.”
“Why did you buy it?” Luna persisted. “It doesn’t work, you know.”
He ran a hand through his dark hair. “I know . . .”
“You have the same name as Saffy’s book.”
“Do I?”
“The one with Icelandic words in it,” she said. “I’ll show you.”
She ran up into Saffy’s bedroom in the loft, returning with the old book I’d seen Saffy reading the day after we arrived.
“I’ve told the girls to take extra-special care with that,” I told him, apologetically. “I can tell it’s very old.”
Patrick took the book from Luna and looked it over, his long fingers turning the pages carefully. I could see there were some runes in the book, similar to the ones in the Longing. “You said it has Icelandic words?”
Luna nodded.
He bent down to her eye level. “Do you know what Iceland used to be called?”
She shook her head.
“Snowland.”
She raised her eyebrows. “That’s a much better name.”
He brightened and flicked through the book. “Do you think so? It’s had a lot of names, actually. Gardarsholmur was one. The Norse used to call it Saga Island.”
“A saga’s a story.”
He smiled. “A particular kind of story, but yes, a story. Do you speak Icelandic?”
“Well, not yet,” Luna said bashfully. “But Saffy looked up some dictionaries at school.” She craned her head to see the page he had opened. “That word means ‘bird,’？” Luna said proudly, pointing at one of the scribbles. “And that one means ‘human.’？”
“Human?” Patrick said, puzzled. “I don’t think so.”
Luna nodded, adamant. “Saffy checked it.”
He smiled at her. “Oh. I’ll check it again, in that case.”
“Go to your room, girls,” I told Clover and Luna. “I need to discuss the project with Mr. Roberts.”
“You got my instructions, then?” he said, once we’d sat at the dining table. “For the mural?”
I nodded, noting the word “instructions”—a generous description of the sheet of paper bearing a scribble that I’d received. “I did,” I said. “I’m almost finished.”
His face lit up in surprise. “I’d love to see it.”
VIII
I left the girls in the bothy while Patrick and I headed to the Longing to look over the mural. I felt nerves setting in as I turned the key in the door. I had to remind myself he was the owner of this place, despite looking so insanely young. What if he didn’t like it? This was the moment of truth. I was finished with the rune design, but there was a lot of filling in to do, and I worried that he expected me to be a lot further on.