I’d touched a nerve. The snake’s eyes vanished and, for an instant, he looked bewildered

Iglanced quickly across the aisle. Harry was gripping the arms of his seat, staring straight ahead, the veins in his neck swollen. I felt a pang of guilt. Neither Liz nor I had reminded him to take his medication. Wilson threw his head back sharply and swallowed several pills in one gulp. “Do you have a fear of flying?” I said. “Health is a real pain, Maggie,” he replied, sidestepping my question. He replaced the bottle in his carry-on, but not before I’d had a good look at the label. “My doctors have instructed me to watch everything I do,” he continued.

“I’m not supposed to exert myself, I’ve been put on a special diet and I’ve been told to cut down on drinking and smoking.”

I watched him swallow his Scotch, remembering the fat cigar at the airport.

He caught me looking. “Cut down, but not cut out.” He smiled disarmingly. “If the b ******* had said cut out, I’d be searching for better doctors.”

He was so sure of himself I decided to end the pretence. “Mr Bibby, you may not be aware you upset my friend at the airport,” I said, as politely as I could.

“I can understand it must be annoying to be constantly approached, but Harry was hurt. He was trying to thank you for funding his research.”

Disappointed

Wilson stiffened. The smile vanished and a glittery look came into his eyes. He was like a snake, sizing up its victim, waiting for the moment to strike.

The heavy-lidded reptile eyes moved across my face. My breathing quickened. This was not a man to cross.

“He was your friend?” He smiled thinly. “Well, he should know better than to creep up on people.”

I was disappointed he’d mistaken my tone. “That’s still no reason to behave the way you did,” I said hotly. I knew how it would sound, but I couldn’t stop myself. “What happened to the manners the South is so famous for?”

I’d touched a nerve. The snake’s eyes vanished and, for an instant, he looked bewildered.

But he recovered his composure quickly. “I admit I may have been rude to your friend. But there’s something I’m sure you’ll appreciate, young lady.”

He brought his face closer to mine. “A man like myself will always be on the defensive when approached by strangers, even in public places.”

“You’re not travelling with a bodyguard.” It was a stupid remark, I realised, after I’d said it.

His reply stunned me with its candour. “Back home, I have several. On vacation, my son Marcellus acts as my bodyguard. He’s a martial arts expert.”

He said it with a comfortable insolence, as though this single fact was a guarantee of his safety.

I glanced across the aisle. Marcellus had removed his sweatshirt, revealing an army-green singlet stretched tightly across his chest. His arms were like tree trunks, the veins bulging.

“I understand your son works for your Foundation,” I said.

Wilson seemed unsurprised by the remark. “He manages our New York office. Of course, I see less of him than I’d like, but we take our vacations together. We travel incognito, even though it means we have to drop our standards now and again.”

I studied Marcellus’s clothes. They were more suited to a holiday in the Bahamas.

Wilson must have read my expression. “The main problem is agreeing the location. You see, unlike myself, Marcellus is a sun-worshipper. He can’t stand the cold.”

As we started our descent into Kiruna, Wilson’s last words rang in my head. The holiday couldn’t have been Marcellus’s idea. The Icehotel was a strange choice of location if you couldn’t stand the cold.

Tour guide

Kiruna airport was packed. All flights that day seemed to have arrived at once.

We pushed our way into the tiny arrivals lounge, searching for our tour guide. I spotted a young man holding a company placard and scanning the crowd anxiously.

Harry was the first to reach him. “I’m Harry Auchinleck,” he said, beaming. “I believe we’re on your tour.”

“The Edinburgh group? Great. I’m Leonard Tullis. Call me Leo.” He smiled broadly, showing uneven teeth. His fair hair was a tangle of curls, as though he was just out of bed.

He seemed too young and, anywhere else, I’d have taken him for a sixth-former. “First things first,” he said. “I’ll need your names.”

The Bibbys came forward. Wilson stood aside while Marcellus took care of business. Leo made a mark on his sheet but, if he recognised the name, he gave no indication.

A girl with fiercely permed red hair was next. She watched anxiously as Leo ran a finger down the list. He found her name, and she relaxed visibly, flashing him a smile that illuminated her face.

She seemed to have limitless energy, like a puppy, and was unable to stay still for long. Her porcelain skin, vacant blue eyes, and Cupid’s-bow lips reminded me of a Dresden china doll.

Leo glanced at her from time to time, interest on his face, and I wondered whether, like a china doll, she could be damaged easily.

The last names on the list were Jim and Robyn Ellis. Robyn was a small woman, marginally bigger than her enormous rucksack.

She had to lean forward to keep her centre of gravity from toppling her backwards.

Her husband was remarkably the same – they could have been brother and sister – although he was a good bit taller.

Both were wiry with short greying hair that stood straight up like brush bristles. Their physique was that of hillwalkers, which they probably were given the condition of their boots.

Attention

They made a beeline for the wall and peered with bloodshot eyes at the map of the local terrain. Robyn made notes. I turned away, smiling. I knew the type – they meant business.

Leo called us to attention. “Okay, folks, time to rock and roll.”

He pulled up the hood of his black ski suit and fastened it firmly at the neck. I watched his deliberate movements impatiently, hungry for my first glimpse of Lapland.

When he drew on his gloves and worked them over his hands, pressing firmly between the fingers, I realised I could wait no longer. I pushed open the swing doors and stepped outside.

My initial reaction was one of shock, laced with disbelief.

The freezing air crisped my face and hands, the cold seeping through my clothes and into my body. I gasped, drawing in air which seared my throat, reminding me of my first clandestine iced vodka. A second later, I was shuddering. And it was still only midday.

Leo had brought the others outside. He watched me with amusement in his eyes. “You think this is cold?” The corners of his mouth lifted.

“The temperature starts dropping about now.” He led the way to the coach.

More tomorrow.

Icehotel, available on Amazon Kindle, is Hania Allen”s debut novel. Her second book, The Polish Detective (Constable, £8.99), is the first in her new series featuring DS Dania Gorska and is set in Dundee.