"Kim Wilkins - Giants of the Frost" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wilkins Kim)

This is my story and it's a love story. Mad, really, as I'm a woman who at the slightest provocation has
always cursed lovers for fools. I remember one evening, drunk out of my skull after splitting up with
Adam, declaring loudly to all assembled at Embankment station that "Victoria Scott does not believe in
love." And yet, not long after this declaration, not long after the messiest broken engagement in the
history of messy broken engagements, this story commences.

This is my story. It's a love story and it goes like this.

I found myself on the supply boat Jonsok out of ├Еlesund, heading for Othinsey, an island at zero degrees
forty minutes east, sixty-three degrees ten minutes north, or about two hundred nautical miles off the
Norwegian coast. I was sick, sick, sick. The crew kept telling me to get up on deck for fresh air, but the
fresh air was awash with rain and salt spray. Instead, I lay down, feeling nauseous, on a threadbare sofa
in the aft cabin, listening to the hissing of a radio that baffled my every attempt to turn it off.

The ten-hour journey was made worse by the deep pit of misgivings that I mined while I should have
been sleeping. Had I done the right thing breaking up with Adam? Should I have accepted so readily this
traineeship at an isolated meteorological research station? Was it good sense to continue with my
doctorate when academia had long since become dreary and stale for me? My mother had squawked a
horrified "No!" on each count. But my mother, bless her heart, was still waiting on the big lottery win she
insisted would solve all our problems. In the meantime, I had to try out some solutions of my own.

Eventually the waves gentled, the boat slowed and I knew we must be entering coastal waters. I ventured
up the narrow metal stairs to the cold deck for my first glimpse of Othinsey.

We cruised through a passage between two enormous cliff faces into the still waters of Hv├нtahofud Fjord.
I saw grey water and grey rock, dark green grass and trees, and painted red buildings with white
windowsills. Those buildings made up Kirkja Station. Here, at the age of twenty-seven, I was about to
commence my first job that didn't involve burning my fingers on a temperamental coffee machine. I was
excited and terrified all at once, and felt a strong sense ofтАж "destiny" is probably too loaded a word.
Perhaps what I felt was a strong sense of being in the right place at the right time.

A tall, neat man with a close grey beard greeted me off the boat. "Good afternoon," he said, hand
extended to help me onto the jetty. "I'm Magnus Olsen, the station commander. We spoke on the
phone."

"Victoria Scott," I said. "Nice to meet you." I picked up my suitcase and turned, nearly running into a
young man hurrying down the jetty. Magnus steadied me with his arm around my waist.

"Sorry," the young man said, indicating the Jonsok. "I'm eager to have something from the boat." He was
about my age, rangy and sandy-haired, and attractive in a boyish way, and he spoke in the same faintly
accented English as Magnus.
Magnus presented me for inspection. "Gunnar Holm, meet Victoria Scott. Gunnar's our IT man, and he's
also in charge of your induction. He'll show you around the station tomorrow."

"Remind me to tell you about the ghosts," Gunnar said with a mischievous grin, hurrying onto the boat.

I smiled politely, supposing this was some kind of frighten-the-new-girl joke and wondering why Magnus