Far North - Michael Ridpath [65]
‘At the time?’
‘Yes. I’ve thought about it a lot since then, and perhaps I do know the reason.’ Unnur took a deep breath. ‘Her father was a brute. I was scared of him at school, I’ve always been scared of him. And he had a weird relationship with Margrét. He was fond of her, doted on her, yet he was very strict. He had a strong psychological hold over her: that was why she wanted to move away to Reykjavík, I am sure. He messed with her head.’
That didn’t surprise Magnus.
Unnur took a sip of coffee. ‘Anyway, then you and Óli showed up. Your mother was fine most of the time, but then she would get depressed about something, drink a lot and give Ragnar a hard time. A very hard time.’
She bit her lip. ‘And now we come to the difficult bit. Ragnar used to confide in me about her. One time, they had been having a massive fight about him going to America. He had done a fellowship at MIT for a couple of years, before he met your mother, and they wanted him back to teach. It was some strange branch of mathematics, topology or something?’
‘Riemann surfaces.’
‘She changed her mind and didn’t want to go. They had a major row about it. He and I had a drink together, and then, well…’ She hesitated. ‘Well. I had always fancied him ever since I had first seen him. I always wished he had chosen me. I was wrong, very wrong. So was he. We have no excuses.’ She looked straight at Magnus. ‘I’m not going to make excuses to you, of all people.’
‘Thanks for telling me about it,’ said Magnus. His mind was a turmoil of confused judgements, against his father, against his mother, against the woman sitting opposite him. But he wanted to find out the truth, so he suppressed them, at least for now.
‘Then Margrét began to suspect something. Your father thought the best thing to do was to be honest, admit everything. I thought that was a really bad idea, but he didn’t listen to me.’ Unnur shook her head. ‘So he told her. It tipped her over the edge as far as drinking was concerned. She kicked Ragnar out. Ragnar dumped me. He went to America by himself. The whole thing was horrible.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘Margrét wouldn’t speak to me, unsurprisingly. I never saw her after that. Of course I heard about her, the drinking, her parents looking after you and Óli, and then her death.’
Magnus swallowed. He knew his mother had drunk half a bottle of vodka and driven into a rock. ‘Was that suicide, do you think?’ It was a question he had asked himself countless times.
‘I think so,’ said Unnur. ‘But I really don’t know. That’s no more than an opinion. Your grandparents swore that she didn’t crash on purpose. The rumours around Stykkishólmur were that she did. But no one really knows. When someone is that drunk they don’t know what they are doing anyway, do they?’
‘No,’ said Magnus. ‘They don’t.’
They sat in silence for a moment. ‘What about my father?’ he asked. ‘What was he like?’
‘He was a fine man,’ said Unnur. ‘Kind. Considerate. Very smart. Very good-looking.’
That was too much for Magnus. ‘He can’t have been that fine a man,’ he said. ‘Screwing his wife’s best friend.’
Unnur tensed. ‘No,’ she said coldly. ‘He can’t have been.’ She looked directly at Magnus. ‘Perhaps you had better go now. You are right, this is painful for both of us.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Magnus, fighting to control himself. ‘The thing is, I thought he was a wonderful man too, and then I find out he did this to Mom. But I do appreciate you telling me.’
Unnur hesitated. ‘It must be tough for you,’ she said. ‘And I suppose that wasn’t such a wonderful thing that we did, was it?’
‘What happened to you?’
‘I met a doctor in Reykjavík. We got married, had children. I moved back here to teach, and he works in the hospital. I’m OK. No, better than OK, happy.’
‘Unlike my parents.’
‘Unlike