Free The Day is Dark by Yrsa Sigurðardóttir

that view, if that’s what you think.’
    ‘It must be okay to have a Coke,’ said Eyjólfur loudly, standing up with a can in his hand. ‘I’m dying of thirst and this fridge is full of drinks. The Coke can hardly be poisoned.’ Thóra wasn’t going to let him get away with changing the subject.
    ‘Do you agree?’ she asked, as he flicked open the can and swigged from it. ‘Do you think there’s a curse on this place?’ She choked down her own overwhelming desire for a Coke. They needn’t both become ill; it was better to wait and see whether he lost consciousness before she yielded to the temptation. She wondered whether a Coke could be counted as one of the doctor’s potentially contaminated canned goods.
    Eyjólfur took another gulp and sighed happily before replying. ‘No, I wouldn’t say that.’ He looked at Friðrikka as he spoke. ‘ Places aren’t good or bad. At most, you can only describe the people who live in them that way.’ He tipped the can as if toasting the geologist. ‘Don’t you think so?’
    Friðrikka did not reply immediately, but looked disdainfully away from the grinning man and stared at the wall. ‘Doesn’t matter, because in the end it’s all the same. Maybe it was just all of you and what went on here that made the place bad.’
    ‘Could you be a little clearer?’ asked Thóra. She was in no condition to read between the lines. Maybe what had happened here was unconnected with recent events; perhaps it had simply been typical work stuff, like an extramarital affair or some other gossip, but it still wouldn’t hurt to know what they were talking about.
    ‘For God’s sake, it was a lot of fuss over nothing,’ replied Eyjólfur. ‘Friðrikka simply gave up and quit. She didn’t have the nerve for it, or the sense of humour you need under these conditions. There’s nothing wrong with the place itself, although the work arrangements were pretty fucked-up. This kind of workplace isn’t for everyone.’
    He was hardly one to talk. By his own account he had only come here for a week at a time while others stayed for lengthy periods. However, Thóra decided to say nothing, to protect Friðrikka. The geologist might turn out to be a crybaby who had convinced herself everything was intolerable in order to justify her leaving. Thóra could find this out later if necessary. She looked outside once more. ‘There’s smoke coming from the chimney on the roof,’ she said. ‘That must be a good thing.’
    Friðrikka peered out and nodded. ‘It looks like the generator is running again,’ she said. ‘Unfortunately it’s probably too late for the showers and water, but who knows. Hopefully it was shut off intentionally and the water drained from the system. Either way, it’ll be nice not to have to sleep in here on the floor.’
    ‘Why shouldn’t the showers be working? They don’t run on electricity,’ said Thóra grumpily. It was bad enough not being able to have a coffee or an ice-cold Coke. Bella’s expression suggested that she felt the same.
    ‘If the camp has been without heat long enough for the water to freeze in the pipes, most of the lines are probably broken,’ said Friðrikka. ‘Unless they left the taps trickling, but I didn’t notice that when we had our look around.’ Thóra said nothing, hoping they had simply overlooked this during their inspection of the site. But she didn’t hold out much hope. They would probably have heard the water running in the oppressive silence.
    ‘Fuck,’ said Eyjólfur, seemingly just as pissed off as Thóra. He didn’t elaborate, but took another huge gulp of Coke. He reached for the tap on the sink next to the coffeemaker and sighed in relief when water ran out of it in a dense jet. ‘Well, at least we can flush the toilet in this building.’
    ‘I guess I should go out and help them turn the lights on and get everything working,’ said Friðrikka. ‘I know where everything is, so we’d get it done faster.’