Free Out of the Ice by Ann Turner Page B

me, within easy reach.
    As soon as I was a distance from Fredelighavn, I plucked out my phone from my bag. No black dots on the screen – out of range. After several more minutes I checked again – the signal was there, but weak. I tried to call Georgia but it wouldn’t connect. I phoned Travis instead and was thankful when he picked up instantly.
    ‘There was someone here,’ I blurted. ‘A man.’
    ‘Laura, is that you?’ Travis sounded alarmed.
    ‘Travis, did you hear? There was someone here. At Fredelighavn. Someone who didn’t want to be seen.’
    Travis was silent. I could hear him breathing.
    ‘Just . . . Travis, I want you to know in case something happens to me. And if it does, you must tell my boss what I’ve just told you. Georgia Spiros.’
    ‘Laura, calm down. Start again. Are you okay?’
    ‘I’m fine. But there was someone in the blubber cookery. I thought they were stalking me but now I’m not sure. They shouldn’t have been there and they certainly didn’t want to be seen. So who were they and what were they doing?’
    •  •  •
    Alliance came into view, like a modernist painting in the ice. Travis was waiting in the doorway of the shed. I slipped the knife into my bag as I approached.
    ‘Laura, you had me worried.’
    I stood up from the snowmobile, my body so cold it felt like it would snap in half.
    ‘What happened down there?’ he asked, frowning.
    Now I was back, I just wanted to call Georgia.
    ‘Let’s talk about it tonight? Right now I need to get warm.’
    ‘Come on,’ Travis said reassuringly. ‘I’ll walk you to your room.’

5
    I woke struggling, lashing out with my arms. When I opened my eyes I was horrified I wasn’t alone. A man dressed in black jeans, a black V-neck jumper and a Venetian cat mask was standing over me, backing away. And beneath the sheets I was naked.
    ‘Hey, eh, it’s okay,’ he stuttered. I screamed.
    ‘Eh, don’t do that!’
    His gloved hands ripped at the mask and pulled it off. It was Travis.
    ‘What the hell were you doing?’ I demanded.
    ‘It’s okay.’
    ‘Stop saying that.’
    Travis was breathing hard.
    ‘What are you doing in my room?’
    ‘I knocked for ages. When I couldn’t raise you . . . I’m sorry. I just thought after what you’d been through today . . . I panicked. And you never did finish telling me what happened down there. Your door was unlocked, so I came in. I was trying to wake you, I was really worried.’
    I stared at him. It was an absolute unspoken law in Antarctica never to enter anyone’s room uninvited. At base everyone lived close by, so the little privacy there was came in one’s room. It was sacrosanct space, even if the door wasn’t locked. My mind ticked over. I’d come in, thrown myself in a hot shower and then dropped into bed, about to phone Georgia. I must have fallen asleep. I’d assumed the door locked automatically as it felt so much like a hotel, which I now realised was foolish of me. At my own base I’d never need to lock up, but at Alliance I wouldn’t ever have had the door open knowingly.
    ‘Please go, Travis,’ I said, feeling completely vulnerable.
    He took a few steps towards the door and then stopped. ‘It’s almost eleven o’clock. Are you still coming to the theme night?’
    I checked my watch, alarmed. I’d slept for hours. The last thing I wanted was to go to a party, but I’d promised Travis and I hated breaking my word to anyone. And my instincts told me his concern was genuine – even if my rational thoughts were far more wary. ‘Okay. Why don’t you go back to your room and I’ll come and get you?’
    Travis nodded, relieved. ‘Take as much time as you need.’ He indicated a fancy-dress outfit on a chair – a bright red leotard that looked homemade, and a holster with jewelled guns. ‘It was the best I could find, sorry. It’s a superhero. And I brought you some food before it had all gone.’ There was a bowl covered by a plate, and a