The Sun At Midnight

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Jud knelt to replace his lens cap on the camera. Glancing up at her, his voice almost normal, he said, ‘Before that jaeger arrived, we were talking about women and beauty, weren’t we? I know one thing—I’ve never seen a woman in Vogue as beautiful as you, Kit. Because there’s intelligence and character in your face. Character you’ve earned over the last few years, I suspect...were they difficult years?’

How could she talk about the past—especially to Jud—when the present was filling her with such confusion? ‘This conversation doesn’t qualify as a truce. Anyway, what I did in those years is really none of your business.’

With a violence that startled her Jud said, ‘Do you know what keeps knocking me off balance? One moment we’re back where we always were, having fun in the outdoors, laughing because a bird’s just dive-bombed us...then sud-denly I’m aware that you’re a woman. Not a girl. A woman. A beautiful woman.’

With uncanny accuracy he had mirrored her own perception, that the two of them were on a seesaw that kept tilting between the past and the present. But she didn’t want to be alone on the tundra with a man who saw her as a beautiful woman; a man whose hair was soft to the touch. ‘We were like brother and sister,’ she said defiantly. ‘I don’t want that to change, and there’s no reason why it should. And now we’d better get going...I need to get some sleep at some point tonight.’

‘You want things simple and tidy, don’t you?’ he said ferociously. ‘Jud was once like a brother to me so he’ll always be a brother to me. Life’s not like that; surely you’ve learned that much?’

Kathrin dumped her cold coffee on the ground and shook the last droplets from the mug. ‘We’re here to look for muskoxen. Not the meaning of life.’

‘If we’re alone out here for four days, we’re going to find more than muskoxen,’ Jud said grimly, and bent to dismantle the little stove.

A few minutes later they set off, Kathrin in the lead, Jud behind her. But as she trudged through the bleached grass, she knew Jud would follow her lead only as long as he wanted to—and no longer.

* * *

The muskoxen were in the next valley, grazing in the meadow beyond an outcrop of rocks. ‘There they are!’ Kathrin exclaimed, as excited as if she’d met old friends. ‘It’s the same herd. I call the bull Bossy and the cow that doesn’t have a calf is Daisy. You can tell the other two cows apart by the degree of shedding—Clara’s only just started, and Sara’s well along. Their calves must have been born within a couple of days of each other, I can’t tell them apart.’