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And now feel free to turn your head towards the heat....

Chapter 15 - Turn My Face Towards The Heat

My pupils dilated

The shock sped up my arms

I shut my ambushed eyes

And turned my face towards the heat

(Kevin Devine – All of everything, erased)

Edward Cullen

I tried to balance my conglomeration of bags on one arm to have a free hand to fold my sleeves up a little and have a look at my watch.

Past midnight. The small airport of Newcastle deserted.

A few homeless people, who preferred the warm environment to the cold nights on the streets were curled up in the corners, but were shooed away by the staff as soon as they were discovered.

I had been at this place a couple of times before, mostly business-related, and headed unerringly for a Last Minute shop I knew of. After I had dropped all the bags to my feet and phrased my wishes, an elderly man checked his computer and announced that there were more than enough spare seats on the flights to Copenhagen and Reykjavik available. He didn't even startle when I pushed more than one thousand pounds cash across the counter and handed me my ticket immediately. Before he could over-think this and take the ticket back, I grabbed it, shoved it into my jacket pocket and grinned to myself because for once, this was almost too easy to be true.

I gathered my bags and carried them to an empty bench in the middle of the hall.

Subtracting the actual time from the one that my ticket told me, I had six hours left until boarding would begin.

To get more comfortable, I slid further down the seat and toyed absent-mindedly with the phone in my jacket pocket, my thump sweeping over the buttons again and again.

If it wasn't for the time, I would call her. Maybe her anger would fade into nothingness once I told her where she could find her car. But then again, that car was a death trap waiting to snap. It would be reckless to let her drive around with it.

One week, I told myself. She had to live one week without a car and then I would personally deliver a new one including a decent radio, conditioning, air bags and efficient wipers right to her home.

Those thoughts made me content and peaceful and I was about to close my eyes and drift off into sleep when some announcement through the speakers reminded me where I was and that I shouldn't leave my pile of bags unattended. Nevertheless, after a few minutes my eyes closed on their own accord again.

I may have drifted in and out of sleep a couple of times until I finally gathered the strength to stand up and stroll around the small airport for the remainder of the night.

I kept myself from falling asleep with the help of large amounts of coffee. The caffeine didn't help at all, but I drank so much that I had to pee like a racehorse throughout the whole night, which did the job and kept me awake.

I invested too much time and money in buying a new black suitcase, big enough to contain all my little bags and all the stuff I had previously carried around like a donkey.

Horses, donkeys, in summery I felt like an ungulate through and through.

The sunlight was shining brightly through the big windows, when the digital display above the Check-In counter finally changed to 'Copenhagen'. I jumped from my seat, exited and nervous that something happened at last. Nobody else had even noticed the counter was open, when I heaved the suitcase onto the scale and greeted the small lady in her formal blue stewardess outfit with the nicest smile I could muster. I rummaged through the small cloth bag that was supposed to be my carry-on and pulled the ticket and my new fake-passport out to hand it over.

The lady opened my documents up and her fingers hurried over the keyboard in front of her. Names, numbers, I had no idea what she was typing so furiously. She frowned slightly, deleted something, typed again. My pulse was racing. Did they check the passports right then and there? Wasn't that what police and customs officers were there for? It was one of those moments I realised, on what an unstable wall of bricks I had built this whole trip. One thing going wrong and I would find myself behind iron bars. The lady finally looked at my picture, then into my face and I fought hard against the urge to just look at my hands, ashamed of what I was doing.

And then, suddenly the corners of her lips twitched upwards and she smiled and I forced a smile on my face, too. She reached behind herself, grabbed some printed ticket, wrapped it up in my passport and handed everything over.

I smiled even brighter, a real one this time, hoping she wouldn't feel the rush of ease taking possession of my body that very second.

"I have seated you in 15A, have a great flight, Sir."

Thank. You. Very. Much. I nodded once in thanks and turned to leave the counter.

The security checks were a catwalk after that.

And so was the flight. The only interruption was the man next to me, who snored so loud, his whole seat vibrated with his intakes of breath. I changed flights in Copenhagen, barely able to keep my eyes open enough to see where I needed to go and the second flight came and went just as uneventful as the first. My attempts to do some power-napping were interrupted by cruel stewardesses and some spiracles, but the plane descended safe and sound eventually.

When I finally arrived in Reykjavik around midday, the high humidity of the air and a harsh, cold wind were the only things I recognised before I collapsed into the back seat of a Taxi. The driver was old, the deep wrinkles in his forehead visible in the rear-view mirror when he gazed at me through the reflection. He looked exactly like I always imagined the fisherman in Hemingway's 'The Old Man and the Sea '.

"You look tired, son," he said with a sincere kindness and a slight Nordic accent, "where do you want to go?"

Surprised my origin was so obvious to him that he spoke English with me right away, I told him to drive me somewhere nice: a hotel with good beds and tasty food. Fortunately, he did just that. When the taxi came to a halt after a few silent minutes of driving, I stumbled out and he lifted my suitcase out of the trunk with ease and carried it to the entrance of the hotel, providing a friendly welcoming smile and wishing me a good stay.

---

The soft white cushions of the bed felt like heaven and I was lying right in between them, a tender blanket covering me up from head to toes.

The seconds of the clock on the bedside table ticked impatiently, but although it was already late-afternoon, I needed to grant my body some form of rest.

My time however was running out fast. The commercial register would close its doors soon and this journey's only purpose was to reveal the secrets behind 'Fagur Alit', so I needed to get myself going. Groaning and without investing much more time on thoughts about the consequences of getting up, I crawled out from under the sheets, swung my legs over the edge of the bed and got up in one fluid motion.

I rubbed my eyes, forcing them to stay open and reached for the shoes I had kicked under the bed earlier.

The one night I paid in advance for the hotel room had cost me a fortune and depleted my supply of cash to a pathetic minimum, but I couldn't regret the decision to stay right there. The bed was beyond amazing and another plus was its closeness to the city and consequently to the commercial register.

Shrugging my arms through the sleeves of my jacket, I looked for my mobile and eventually spotted it on top of the TV. I had discovered earlier that the phone was not only a phone but also a device to surf the internet, which came in handy when I needed the address and directions to the register. It wasn't all that bad to make deals with the devil.

I grabbed Bella's scarf, flung it around my neck, not without praising its soft texture and the faint scent that was all Bella, put my hat onto my head and was ready to face the cold Icelandic weather.

Although this wasn't a sightseeing trip, I couldn't ignore the beauty of the city. As I meandered through the streets, framed by small colourful houses, and watched the local people do their work in a peaceful manner, I fell in love with this country just a little bit. If I were here on holiday, I would sit down at the harbour and watch those fishermen the whole day. But I walked at a steady pace, never slowing. The tiredness had disappeared with the cold breeze blowing in my face. The solution to all of this finally right in front of me and I wanted some answers at last.

I entered the amber coloured house with my hopes held high. If this would go as planned, I could locate the stupid firm first thing tomorrow morning and would finally know to whom all that money went and why. A sign right next to the entrance told the directions to the respective rooms, but the language was completely foreign to me. I tried to comprehend, but ended up looking around for someone to help me out. Rumours about public authorities seemed to be true after all. The silence in the building made me believe nobody was working at all. But with a method of trial and error, opening and closing doors, walking through the corridors like a maze, I finally found the right room.

It was a surprise that my hand wasn't already interlaced with my hair, since I was grabbing it frequently, my nervousness intensifying the impulse.

The answers were so close. I would get an address, maybe even a name, which would possibly be the name of the person who killed Claire.

"Good evening M'dam," I nodded to the middle-aged lady, who still had to look up at me, "I hope you speak English. My name is Ed--," I coughed hysterically, "Anthony Masen, and I was told this is where to find the commercial register?"

My new name sounded still false on my lips, but the coughing must have gotten her attention, since she eventually looked up at me through her thick horn-rimmed glasses.

"Yes, that's right."

Relieved, I put my request straight forward. I had to fill out a form and pay in advance before the horn-framed-glasses-lady would do anything. When all formalities were done, she typed and deep wrinkles appeared on her forehead, as if this simple task needed all her concentration.

"Did you spell this right?" She shot me an accusing look, her eyes appearing much too big due to the thick glasses.

"Yes."

"Well you must have made a mistake, there isn't any company registered by that name."

This couldn't be. I checked the paper again, but I spelled everything right.

"Are you sure about that?"

"I was already doing this job when you weren't even born, so I guess that makes me the expert of the two of us. If I tell you it isn't there, it simply isn't. Any other requests? No? Fine. Bye."

"But they have a bank account!" I lamely protested.

She rolled her eyes at me, "I do too, kiddo."

The door shut on its hinges behind me and I was out in the cold again. It wasn't all that late yet, but the sun already disappeared behind the horizon, the short Icelandic day coming to an early end. I stuffed my hands into my jacket pockets and strolled back into the direction I originally came from. My shoulders hung low. The hope I arrived with had been punched in the face and lay on the ground defeated. I desired to lie right next to it.

Fagur Alit didn't exist. It wasn't a registered company and I had no idea what else it could be. What was I supposed to do now?

I was far away from home, my only trace gone. The fake passport was for nothing. Everything felt like such a waste of time and energy. I was a fool to believe that this might work.

The only path I had left was the bank account, but that was a dead end as well. They wouldn't expose any information to me. The account was probably deleted already after everything that had happened. My feet moved forward automatically until I was back in my hotel room, the white cushions looking even more inviting than ever.

Before I collapsed, I shrugged out of my jacket, pulled my phone out of the pocket and took it with me. I knew what he had said about not contacting him anymore, the words were still fresh in my mind, but I had to call Jasper. If anyone knew what was going on and why this company wasn't even listed, it would be him.

I dialled, lying on the bed, Bella's scarf still attached firmly around my neck, its warmth comforting me.

"Hello, this is Alice answering Jasper's phone. Who's there?" Alice chirped into the receiver. I thought about hanging up right then, because I didn't want her to get involved, but it felt too good to hear a familiar voice. I craved the company of my friends more than ever.

"Alice, hey, it's Edward. Where's Jasper?"

"Edward! It's so good to hear from you. Jasper's just taking a shower or something. Where are you and more importantly how are you? Are you alright?"

"Sure Alice, I'm fine. Things are a little complicated right now, but it's all fine. It would be great if I could speak to Jasper for a second, though."

It was lightening my mood to just hear her lilting her words, but I needed advice. Someone who was able to solve this riddle with me.

"Sure, you can talk to him as soon as he gets out of the bathroom, but I've got information for you." I could feel her smile right through the speaker and practically see the glistening in her eyes that she had whenever there was gossip to share. I wasn't in the mood.

"Alice please, you can tell me everything when I'm back. This won't take long. Can you please just get Jasper out of the bathroom. I'd really appreciate that."

"Oh I would and leave you right there hanging without all those nice information I've got, but unfortunately it isn't in my nature to do so. You know how I'm a nice person and how I love to share my knowledge. If you knew what I know, you'd be begging me to tell you. No wait, then you would already know and not beg anymore. You know what I mean, right?"

"Okay Alice, you won," I said defeated, "just tell me what you know."

"Now you want to know, huh? Alright then, I met Bella today. Ah, really Edward, she's such a nice person, complimented my car and everything. And she has this classic camera I always wanted to have. They don't make things like that anymore. And it's in such a good shape, too. I really hope she's going to lend it to me someday or go on some photo trip with me--"

I sat up straight in bed, rising my hand to the back of my neck and touched the blue scarf, where my fingers played with the thin fabric at the ends. Bella's name falling from Alice' lips got my full attention. Did Bella mention me? Did she know I knew Alice? Was she angry? Was she alright?

"Alice, please stop talking about her photo equipment. What was she like? What did you tell her? How is she feeling?"

"Oh Edward, I think Jasper's just coming out of the bathroom. You wanna talk to him?" Alice chuckled, but I couldn't see the fun in this torture.

"Alice, please, I need to know. Is she alright?"

"Of course she's alright, Edward. Don't be silly. Didn't you just see her yesterday? And we talked so much, I almost had her singing with me in the car. But she's all shy and sweet. I love her Edward. You and her will be amazing together."

I closed my eyes imagining everything Alice told me. I could see Bella's beautiful face, blushing when Alice asked her to sing with her. It was the sweetest mental image, her cheeks all flustered and red, eyes looking down in embarrassment, and then she would look up through her lashes....

I needed to know.

"Did she, I mean, did you... mention me?"

Alice was silent for a moment, but I knew she smiled her signature victory-smile, due to the fact that she finally gained my curiosity.

"Of course I mentioned you. Told her about our little jam sessions."

Okay, this wasn't so bad. But I needed to know more.

"And she knew, that you were talking about me? She made that connection?" I asked, still curious about everything that concerned Bella – and me.

"Of course she did. She's not stupid. As soon as I was talking about this sophisticated friend of mine, she knew exactly who I was talking about."

I sunk back onto the cushions and grabbed another one to pull it over my head. This must be a nightmare.

"She did not!" I insisted, hoping Alice might be joking.

"Did too. I told her everything about you and Jasper and your senseless discussions through our sessions. I think she totally agreed when I explained what a music snob you are."

"Oh sweet Jesus," I mumbled against the pillow I still pressed to my face as if it made me disappear. "I bet she hates me even more now. Why did you do that? I told you I liked her and--"

"She can't hate you that much. She even carries your stupid iPod in her bag. That holy possession of yours we aren't allowed to touch most of the time."

I lifted the pillow off my face.

"She does?"

"Ha, so it's really yours, isn't it? She was totally embarrassed by it though. Wouldn't even look at me when I asked her about it."

I was elated. She took it and listened to what was my world.

"Which songs does she like, Alice? Tell me everything. What else did she tell you?"

"How would I know Edward? She didn't even acknowledge that it's yours and she's not a talkative one, is she? Didn't you want to talk to Jasper anyway?"

Alice' giggling died down a bit and I heard Jasper's voice faintly in the background, not understanding what he was saying.

"Yeah, yeah sure, give the receiver to Jasper," I said, not thinking clearly as my thoughts were still lingering around Bella, cheeks flushing, my iPod in her hand.

Heavenly.

"Hello Edward, didn't expect to hear from you so soon again," Jasper drawled, his uneasiness towards me palpable. And that was all it took to get me back to earth, letting the daydreams about that sweet brown-haired girl coming to an abrupt end.

"Yeah sorry, Jasper, I wouldn't have called if it wasn't necessary. I need your expert knowledge. I just don't know what to do anymore."

"In other words you did exactly what I told you not to do. You dug yourself a bloody deep hole and now you're stuck."

He was right, he warned me, and I didn't listen. Or actually I did listen, but ignored his warnings. But it wasn't like he had offered me any genius plan as an alternative either.

"Are you going to help me?" I asked, truly afraid of his answer.

"Of course I'm going to help you, moron. What else can I do? Let you rot in Iceland or wherever you are? So what is it? Did you run out of money? Did Jason already send his troops after you?"

I sighed a deep sigh of relief.

"No, nothing of that sort. Although my supply of money is getting thin I don't really mind." And then I explained everything to him. How I found those documents of the weird transfers in the accountant department and how I saw my only chance in Iceland, finding the company and its owner. Of course my little tale excluded everything concerning emotional or physical contact towards Bella. I kept it all highly professional, giving him only the important facts.

Jasper listened without interrupting me. He didn't make a single sound, not even taking an audible breath and when I was finished, I was met with silence.

"Jasper, you still there?" I asked. "What am I supposed to do now? The company doesn't exist. It's just another dead end. And I have this bank account and a number. How can a company have a bank account when it doesn't even exist?"

"You didn't just dig yourself a hole, Edward. Someone already put the earth back in, burying you inside." Jasper was calm and collected again, his words a total knockdown, but his voice still held hope. I could tell his mind was already working out a way around this, a solution, a way to shovel me out of my imaginary grave again.

"So, can you tell me any way out of this mess?"

"You have to try the bank," he answered, sounding like an officer filling me in on his tactics to win the war. "I agree, it's worthless, but now that you're already there, you should try. The company is probably fake. Got the bloody account with false papers or something. Maybe they're going to give you an address or a name. There shouldn't be too much secrecy around a bloody address, so just try your luck. And remember those people working in banks love money. Especially when it lands in their own pockets. So if they don't cooperate, you can always offer a proposal. But be careful how you phrase that shit. One wrong word and it's illegal. Not that you seem to care about that, do you?"

I lay still on my bed, one hand on the receiver the other one grabbing my hair, having no real answer for him. Of course I cared about the law. I wanted things to go smoothly and nice, but if this wasn't going to work out, I was open to try a different approach. My morals had already sunk. I wasn't as opposed to bribing the bank clerk as I would've been a few days ago.

"Alright, I take your silence as an answer," Jasper continued his explanations. "Once you got an address, try to locate it and see what it is. Some people are stupid enough to name their home address. But when people have blood on their hands they usually think things through a little more profoundly. But be careful when you look for that address. Maybe that creep is right there, waiting for his next victim. You always have to be prepared for the worst scenario possible."

We talked some more after that. Jasper got angry about the amount of money I paid Jason for my passport, telling me the prices in the scene were much cheaper and I should have gotten a decent weapon right along with it for that price. But I couldn't care less. If one thing wasn't a problem, it was money. But that explained, why I got a phone for free.

And to be honest, carrying a mobile didn't sound as scary as carrying a gun. I still thought I had made quite the good deal.

Eventually we hung up, Jasper wishing me good luck and promising me hell if I wasn't going to call him every other day to tell him I was alright.

---

Despite the outside world crashing down on me, I slept like a baby. Surrounded by the flowery smell of fresh linens and the prospect of getting an all-inclusive breakfast, I awoke well-rested and optimistic that this day would finally give me some answers. That was until I took a look at the clock, realising it was already past midday and the breakfast-buffet ended hours ago.

I had to hurry then, half of the day already wasted for nothing. I showered, dressed, put my clothes back into the suitcase and deposited said suitcase in some locker at the hotel's reception. I had no money left to stay another night in that fancy hotel, but had no real idea about where my day would bring me in the evening. I decided to grab some sandwiches on the way and headed straight for the bank, to follow Jasper's advices.

When I arrived at the comparably tall building, I didn't hesitate.

Without a real plan or strategy, I entered the bank, looking around for someone who appeared competent enough to help me. I spotted two young women behind a counter and slowly approached them. They seemed like the kind, that could be convinced easily enough of my need to know a name, although it was doubtful they had the knowledge.

"Good afternoon, Ladies," I began, leaning casually with my elbow on the counter. "How are you today?" I smiled a rather forced smile, trying the friendly approach before I started to offer money I didn't have.

"Very good, Sir. Thank you. How may I help you?"

The other one giggled behind her and whispered a short word in Icelandic, which caused the first one to stomp with her heel on the other one's foot.

"I'm sorry, she doesn't understand any English," she excused. "What can I do for you?"

"It would be delightful, if you were able to give me some information I need," I tried, smelling an easy pushover in these girls.

"Of course, Sir. Do you need information on credits, on assets, maybe a new account?"

"Oh no, it's something entirely different. I've got this account number and it would be all too wonderful, if I can get a name or an address to it."

I lay a little paper, on which I had written all the information I already had, on the counter and waited for the blonde girl to tell me some more.

But as I should have expected, the poor girl was overstrained. She fumbled with the locks of her too blonde hair, told me how deeply sorry she was about her being of no help and finally excused herself to get the boss. I was left with the other girl staring at me like a hungry kitten. What the hell was her deal?

The guy that came out of his office to greet me was small with blonde spiky hair, probably to let him appear a little taller than he actually was. He had one hell of a handshake though.

"Góðan dag, Newton my name. I heard there was a problem?" Firm and determined he shook my hand, his face all happy smiles.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Newton. No, there's no real problem. I just need some quick information. It's nothing too dramatic."

I tried to make it appear a little unimportant, hoping he wouldn't see something as simple as a name or an address as something worth his while. And when he nodded for me to continue, I quickly invented some new story to the numbers on my note:

"I have this account number, which belongs to a customer of yours. This company transferred money to my account repeatedly, so it would be amazing, if you could tell me a name behind the number, so I can thank those people properly. The statement of account only showed the firm's name, but they don't have a webpage or something to locate them, so I thought maybe you could help me out?"

He eyed me curiously.

"You only have the account's number? I'm sorry Miss Jónsson didn't already tell you, sometimes blonde hair seems to really have an impact on brain function, doesn't it?" he laughed a hearty laugh, his chest vibrating with his chuckles. "But we can't give out information like that. We take the banker's discretion fairly serious."

"Oh you do, don't you?" I thought of Jasper and his advice. Mr. Newton definitely looked like someone who loved money. I decided to take the risk of being rejected. It couldn't get any worse now. "So, how much do you like holidays? Like in the Caribbean or maybe Italy, somewhere nice and warm?"

"I don't really understand Mr....."

"Masen. My name is Masen. I'm just offering you a nice journey. Let's say two weeks? With your girlfriend?"

"Are you trying to corrupt me, Mr Masen?"

"No, no, not at all. Of course not. I was just thinking, maybe you could use some time off and you know, I scratch your back, you scratch mine. This would be favourable for everyone."

I was really getting into this game and some invisible force was driving me. Since I started talking to Mr. Newton, a constant buzz was flowing through my body. As if I had to convince him. As if I had to prove that I was able to solve this puzzle. Prove it to myself and to everyone involved. It was as if someone watched my every move and I had to avoid mistakes at all costs.

"Really Mr. Masen, to me this sounds like you're bribing me and I can't have that. You should probably leave the bank."

"I promise, I wasn't trying to bribe you. I was just offering--"

And then the buzz increased, Newton's eyes shifted to my right side and the buzz centred itself on my forearm, warmth spreading from there to everywhere.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. Why didn't you wait for me?"

I glanced down to the warmth on my forearm, not believing what I was hearing, what I was feeling. But there it was, the delicate hand of Bella Swan, softly touching my forearm.

chapter end notes:

They're back together!!! I can't believe it myself. I hope you're all as happy as we are. Thanks to all of you for reading and leaving your wonderful reviews!