Strange Shores (17 page)

‘No, I haven’t,’ protested Ezra hastily – perhaps too hastily. He wondered if Jakob would pick up on his agitation, his accelerated heartbeat.

‘Well, that’s how it seems. All those times you were off sick. Then you suddenly quit the boat and go and get a job on shore. As if I’d offended you. As if we weren’t mates any more.’

‘You haven’t offended me,’ Ezra assured him. ‘Of course we’re still mates.’

Was Jakob deliberately turning the tables on him? It was Ezra who had done Jakob wrong: he and Matthildur had gone behind Jakob’s back, betrayed his friendship and his trust. Perhaps keeping his distance had been a mistake. It was true he had been steering clear of Jakob. He had never once got in touch with his friend and had offered him no support after Matthildur went missing. He had quite simply vanished from Jakob’s life, just as she had. On reflection, such behaviour was bound to have aroused suspicion.

‘Well, that’s a relief to hear,’ said Jakob.

‘What did you want to say about Matthildur?’ asked Ezra.

‘Come again?’

‘You said you had a lot to get off your chest.’

‘That’s right,’ said Jakob. ‘I was thinking of holding a memorial service or – well, you can’t really call it a funeral, she has to be officially pronounced dead first. And that can take ages. They have to make absolutely sure in circumstances like these, you see? But she’ll never be found. Not after this long.’

‘It’s not out of the question,’ objected Ezra. ‘When the thaw comes.’

‘And there’s another matter I haven’t told anyone about. I don’t know how much I should say. It’s . . . a bit awkward. I don’t really know how to put it or who to talk to. There are so few people I can trust and . . .’

‘What is it?’

‘It’s about Matthildur,’ said Jakob. ‘She’d been rather distant before she vanished.’

‘Distant?’

‘Yes, partly because of personal stuff. You know, the kind of problems that crop up in any marriage. Maybe you’ll understand one day, if you ever get a woman of your own, Ezra.’

Again, Ezra detected that tone. And the choice of words: ‘a woman of
your own
’.

‘And partly for other reasons,’ Jakob continued. His words were followed by a significant pause.

‘What do you mean, other reasons?’ asked Ezra at last, when it seemed Jakob did not intend to continue.

‘I don’t have any proof – nothing concrete, that is. But then I don’t suppose men in my position ever do until the evidence is shoved under their nose. Right under their nose – you get me?’

‘Men in your position?’

‘Cuckolds, Ezra. I’m talking about cuckolds. Do you know what that means? To be a cuckold?’

Ezra was speechless.

Jakob flicked away his cigarette. ‘It’s when someone sleeps with your wife behind your back. Other people might be aware, but you, no, you’re completely clueless. Then one day your wife decides to up and leave, just like that, like it’s none of her husband’s bloody business.’

Ezra was trying to hide his turmoil but had no idea if he was successful. He wanted to run away but was not sure his legs would carry him; his knees had turned to jelly. He was completely unprepared for this conversation and could not think how on earth to react.

‘Are you saying that Matthildur . . .?’ Ezra could not finish the sentence.

‘I have my suspicions, that’s all. They prey on my mind, day in, day out, but I’ll probably never find out the truth. Not after what’s happened. Not now.’

Jakob ground the cigarette butt under his heel.

‘No, she certainly won’t be found now,’ he said, his eyes fixed on Ezra who again read blame in the other man’s gaze, his words, his entire manner.

‘Come round and see me,’ Jakob said. ‘There’s something you should probably know.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Drop by,’ said Jakob. ‘I have to finish up here. Then we’ll have a chat. I’m usually alone at home in the evenings.’

Ezra rocked in his chair, becoming distressed again. The memory was still so sharply etched. He could recall every word Jakob had said.

‘I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to go and see him but of course I couldn’t admit that, so I slunk off with my tail between my legs.’

Erlendur merely watched the old man. He noticed how choked with emotion he was, how gruelling it was for him to relive this. It may have been ancient history but it had shaped his life, perhaps more than he realised. It took a stranger, a detached onlooker, to recognise the paralysing impact of those long-ago events.

‘Didn’t you find the conversation a bit odd?’ asked Erlendur eventually.

‘I did at first,’ said Ezra. ‘I was confused. But it dawned on me later that he must know – must know about me and Matthildur. He dropped all those hints because he knew everything there was to know. Because she’d told him!’

‘Did you go and see him?’

‘Yes,’ said Ezra, speaking almost to himself. ‘In the end. I went to see him. And found out the whole truth.’

THE DOUBT, FEAR
and dread that had tortured Ezra ever since Matthildur’s disappearance assailed him with renewed vigour in the days following his bizarre conversation with Jakob. Sooner or later he would have to go and have it out with him. A dirty secret lay unacknowledged between them, and he must confront it however much he shrank from the thought. Uncertainty about how much Jakob knew had tormented him ever since Matthildur went missing back in January. There was no way of finding out what she might have said to Jakob except by asking him straight out. Perhaps he knew nothing; perhaps everything. Ezra’s deepest fear was of learning that their affair had been to blame for Matthildur’s rushing off. That it had caused a quarrel. During the months after she vanished the thought haunted him.

Three times he set out to see Jakob, only to turn back. The man’s behaviour in the cemetery had disturbed and alarmed him. Ezra paced ceaselessly around his house, brooding endlessly on the question of why Jakob’s words should have been uttered in that tone, why he had gone on about cuckolded husbands and insisted on explaining what the word meant, as if mocking him.

One evening he resolved to bite the bullet. He walked down the hill, just as he used to every morning when he collected Jakob for work; when, in spite of his shyness and inexperience, he had lost himself to Matthildur. He had been delighted and astonished by her response. She had made his timid fumbling so effortless that it had seemed as if their love was natural and predestined. Not a day had passed since when he had not been visited by her smile, by the movement of her hand, the look in her eyes, her walk, the sound of her laughter. He missed her desperately and wept over her fate – over both their fates – through the long, lonely evenings.

Seeing a light shining in Jakob’s sitting room, he knocked at the door. The wind had changed and a cold, dry gust buffeted the village from the north. He rapped again and Jakob opened up.

‘Why, hello, mate,’ he said, inviting Ezra inside. ‘I’ve been expecting you.’

The word ‘mate’ immediately struck Ezra as false. Jakob ushered him into the sitting room, picked up a bottle of
brennivín
once they were seated and filled two shot glasses. Downing his in one go, he refilled it straight away. It was evident that he had been drinking and Ezra remembered how obnoxious and aggressive he could get. Ezra drank sparingly, immediately regretting his decision to come. He should have chosen another time of day, when Jakob was less likely to be boozing. Glancing around, he noticed that the house was much messier than it used to be, the room strewn with dirty clothes, leftover food and unwashed dishes.

‘Nice to see you,’ said Jakob.

‘How have you been?’ asked Ezra.

‘Shit,’ replied Jakob. ‘I’m in a hell of a state, let me tell you, Ezra. Life’s no fun any more.’

‘I can believe it’s been a rough time.’

‘Rough? You can’t begin to imagine how rough it’s been, Ezra. So damned rough. Let me tell you – let me tell you, Ezra, it’s not exactly a laugh a minute losing a beloved wife like Matthildur.’

‘I’m sorry if I’ve turned up at a bad time. Perhaps I should come back later. I need –’

‘What? Leaving already? Relax. Drink up. I wasn’t doing anything, just sitting here listening to the wireless. It’s not a bad time.’

Ezra was silent.

‘I’m not drunk,’ said Jakob. ‘I’m just a bit lonely.’

‘Of course,’ said Ezra.

Jakob pulled himself together, straightened his shoulders and started to speak, picking his words with care.

‘I’m actually a bit surprised you were willing to come here,’ he said. ‘To see me.’

‘Willing?’ Ezra was wary. ‘I wanted to give you my condolences –’

‘Oh, really? How kind of you.’

‘I wanted to know how you’re getting on.’

‘But that’s not all, is it?’

‘I . . .’

‘You’re curious about Matthildur, aren’t you?’

‘About Matthildur?’

‘Don’t play the fool.’

‘I wouldn’t dream –’

‘Do you think I didn’t know?’

‘Know what?’

‘Do you really believe, Ezra, that I didn’t know about you and Matthildur?’

Jakob was suddenly sober. His expression was hard and unforgiving. With extraordinary bluntness and no real warning, Ezra’s suspicions were confirmed. He had been dreading this news for so long that now, when the truth was finally out, it almost came as a relief.

‘I wanted to talk to you,’ said Ezra. ‘That’s why I’m here. We didn’t want to hurt you. It just happened.’

‘Didn’t want to hurt me?’ echoed Jakob. ‘You didn’t want to hurt me?’

‘We kept meaning to tell you.’

‘But you never did.’

‘No. But Matthildur was planning to.’

Ezra realised how pathetic it sounded, as if it had been her responsibility. ‘She wanted to do it alone,’ he corrected himself. ‘Didn’t want me with her.’

‘Do you know how I found out?’ demanded Jakob. ‘Do you know how I found out I was a cuckold?’

‘No.’

‘How do you think that feels, eh? How do you think it feels when your wife’s fucking another man? Your friend, for Christ’s sake! How the hell do you think that feels?’

Ezra’s mouth was dry.

‘You were my friend, weren’t you?’

Ezra still could not speak.

‘Weren’t you my friend?’ persisted Jakob.

Ezra nodded.

‘Oh, I noticed how you two used to behave when you came to fetch me in the morning,’ Jakob continued. ‘Do you think I didn’t see how you gawped at her? I saw you mooning over her and I saw how she liked it.’

‘She told me about her sister and the baby,’ said Ezra. ‘She was upset –’

‘That was nothing but a pack of lies!’ shouted Jakob. ‘That kid wasn’t mine! Her sister was lying. I screwed the bitch, that’s true. I screwed her in Djúpivogur, maybe a couple of times. But it wasn’t my child. And I had no idea they were sisters.’

‘Matthildur was heartbroken,’ said Ezra. ‘That’s one reason why she turned to me. She was angry.’

Jakob looked a mess – unshaven, unkempt and wearing only one sock, his checked shirt hanging out of his trousers. Realising that he was not in his right mind, Ezra felt it was unwise to carry on talking to him. He was relieved to know where he stood at last but Jakob’s current state could only make matters worse. He rose to leave.

‘Maybe we should discuss this another time,’ he said.

Jakob scowled at him. ‘You’re not going anywhere till I’ve had my say,’ he snarled.

‘I’m not sure this is the right –’

‘Shut up!’ shouted Jakob. ‘Shut the fuck up and sit down!’

They eyed one another until Ezra finally gave in and sat down facing him.

‘Do you know how I got proof of your dirty little affair?’ Jakob asked. ‘Have I told you?’

‘No, you haven’t.’

‘I had my suspicions, of course. We’d quarrelled, me and Matthildur, about her sister and that bloody brat. I won’t deny it. It changed our relationship but I thought we’d got over it. That is, until she saw some something in you. You! The reason it took me so long to twig what was going on was because it was you. Christ, Ezra! No woman’s ever given you a second glance. What the fuck did she see in
you
?’

He probably deserved whatever Jakob threw at him. That was why he had come, after all – to hear the accusations and insults, to bear the brunt of his rage.

‘It could have been any old shit, just not you. Anyone but you, Ezra. What would people think of me if she jumped into bed with a freak like you, who’d never been near a woman in his life? What would that say about
me
?’

Ezra did not dignify this with an answer.

‘I went to Reydarfjördur and pretended I was going to stay overnight. Remember? Viggó, Ninna’s husband, offered me a lift.’

Ezra still did not respond.

‘Remember, you bastard?’ Jakob yelled at him.

Ezra nodded. ‘Yes, I remember.’

‘Well, I went,’ said Jakob, ‘but I got a lift back later that evening and saw her sneaking off to your place in the dark. I saw you together, Ezra. I hung around outside your house like a fool and saw it all. Everything!’

‘Why didn’t you interrupt us? Why didn’t you speak up?’

Jakob hung his head as if in defeat. ‘Ezra . . . you think it’s so easy,’ he said, his voice gradually rising again. ‘So cut and dried. Why didn’t you interrupt us? Why didn’t you speak up? What kind of questions are they? What was I supposed to say? Don’t fuck my wife?’ He was shouting now. ‘Was that what I was supposed to say to you, Ezra?’

‘I can understand that you were angry.’

‘Angry?’ whispered Jakob, more composed now. ‘You haven’t a clue, have you? But I bottled up my anger. Bottled it up till I needed it. I sloped off home and let my rage boil and churn till I thought it would choke me. No one gets away with treating me like that, though. I won’t have it. I told her – I told her in plain words that I would not be treated like that.’

‘Was that why she went to Reydarfjördur?’ asked Ezra hesitantly, terrified of the answer. ‘Was it because of us?’

‘That’s right, Ezra. That’s why she had to go,’ said Jakob, tipping the bottle down his throat. ‘That’s why she had to go on a long journey.’

EZRA HAD PUT
down the gun while he was relating the story. Erlendur was not sure if he was even conscious of having done it, so absorbed was he in the memory of that meeting with Jakob more than sixty years ago. He listened in silence to the old man’s tale. Dusk was gathering in the kitchen. Erlendur was worried Ezra would catch a chill, sitting there in his vest, his slippers still wet from the snow outside. He asked if he had a jumper he could put on or if he wanted a blanket, but the other man did not respond. So Erlendur got up, found a blanket, draped it over Ezra’s shoulders and took away the shotgun, placing it at a safe distance. It contained a single round which he removed. Ezra made no comment.