The Northern Lights Lodge. Julie Caplin

was scrunched in mutinous resignation as she argued, although it appeared her heart wasn’t really in it, with a trim girl of perfect proportions and the sort of make-up that made you wonder how on earth she’d perfected those uniform neat eyeliner flicks on both eyes. She looked as if she were about to go on an upmarket shopping trip rather than the task of cleaning bedrooms as her uniform suggested. She tossed her neat glossy brown bob and cast a quick look towards Lucy, her mouth closing sharply as if swallowing her next sentence. Hekla snapped her mouth shut and the awkward silence stretched out as all three of them, curiously, couldn’t seem to meet each other’s eyes.

      ‘Good morning, can I help?’ asked Lucy in polite but firm enquiry, stepping forward and standing still, determined to mark her authority from the get-go. It was only then that she realised that the head barman who’d fished her out of the hot tub last night was also there, leaning up against the wall, his arms folded and an expression of impatience on his face.

      The taller blonde girl opposite Hekla raised her head and her long fluid arms dropped to her side. She looked uncertain and worried at the same time.

      Hekla pursed her lips and cast an agonised look towards the two girls before she said, ‘We have a slight problem with huldufólk.’

      ‘Sorry?’ Lucy thought she remembered hearing the word last night but wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly as she tried to copy Hekla’s rather cute accent, ‘huldufólk?’

      What the hell were they?

      The two girls nodded vehemently.

      Hekla sighed. ‘They’ve left mices. Freya,’ she indicated the dark-haired young woman, ‘and Elin,’ she nodded towards the second blonde woman, ‘and the other staff who live in the staff quarters want to leave but then we will have no one to clean the rooms or to serve the breakfast this morning.’

      Lucy gave a quick glance at her watch. It was eight o’clock, although it was still dark outside, surely breakfast service must be underway?

      ‘Mices?’ She was starting to feel completely stupid, echoing everything the other girl said.

      ‘Yes, you know little furry mices.’

      ‘Mice,’ said Lucy, finally cottoning on. ‘You have mice.’ She glanced down at her feet and around the skirtings of the room. This she could handle. ‘OK,’ she gave the two women a smile, ‘we can get some mousetraps. I’m sure that will solve the problem. No one needs to leave.’ Now she understood the underlying panic on Hekla’s face. Getting staff here on short notice would be difficult if not impossible. Yesterday’s taxi ride had established they were in a remote location. The nearest town had been a good twenty minutes away. ‘Humane traps.’ Then she added for good measure. ‘Or perhaps we can borrow a cat?’ She’d always prided herself on finding solutions to problems. Even Chris had complimented her on her ability to think outside the box.

      Alex, the barman, snorted and she shot him a quick snotty look of enquiry. He had a better way of getting rid of mice?

      Hekla shifted from rubbing one foot down the back of her calf. ‘Nrr.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s not the mices, it’s the huldufólk.’

      Alex stepped forward, a look of exasperation on his face, his mouth tight. ‘Hidden folk. Like Elves.’

      ‘Elves?’ Lucy repeated calmly. Alex nodded and she caught him rolling his eyes. Unsure she hadn’t misunderstood, she raised an eyebrow at him. ‘You have elves?’ His mouth crimped tighter in response.

      ‘Ja, huldufólk,’ said Freya, ‘in our bedroom.’

      Lucy frowned. ‘You’ve seen them?’

      Freya shuddered and looked horrified. ‘No! It is very bad luck to see the huldufólk.’

      ‘Riiight.’ Lucy glanced at Alex who folded his arms, giving her stern stare. ‘So there are mice in the bedroom?’

      Hekla did her stork impersonation again, the picture of awkwardness.

      ‘Yes, on the pillows,’ insisted Freya. ‘Left by the huldufólk.’ She bent to pick up the rucksack at her feet and hefted it onto her shoulders, with Elin following suit.

      ‘Wait,’ she said, trying to piece things together but it was rather like having all the straight bits of a jigsaw and none of the corner bits. ‘You’re leaving?’

      The two girls nodded apologetically. ‘It’s … well there is a bus going back to Reykjavik soon.’

      ‘Wait a minute.’ She looked at Hekla who didn’t meet her eye.

      ‘Most of the staff live in,’ explained Alex in that lovely soft Scottish accent which made her think of David Tennant, as he rather unhelpfully pointed out, ‘we’re going to be short-staffed if they leave.’

       Thanks Einstein, I hadn’t worked that one out for myself.

      ‘Ja, that’s correct.’ Hekla nodded, her blonde hair glinting under the soft light of the room.

      Elves? Hidden folk? Seriously? Were they pulling the newbie’s leg? Alex’s eyes held hers still with that expectant so what are you going to do about it. Until she got her head around this, she needed to tread carefully.

      ‘And these huld …hulder.’

      ‘Huldufólk,’ interjected Helka helpfully.

      ‘They like to play tricks?’

      ‘Sometimes,’ said Elin, ‘they move things. Make disruptions.’

      Lucy nodded thoughtfully as she racked her brains. During her hospitality degree, there’d been a module on observing local customs. In South Korea, you shouldn’t pour your own drink and there were several countries where blowing your nose in public was offensive, but she’d never come across an elf problem.

      To her mind, dead mice on people’s pillows sounded like someone playing a bit of practical joke, although not a particularly funny one. And this was her first day.

      ‘So, what do we do about them?’ asked Lucy.

      Alex shot her an incredulous look as if to say, ‘you’re listening to this rubbish?’

       And, what, did he have all the answers?

      Hekla’s eyes widened. ‘There’s nothing we can do.’

      ‘OK,’ said Lucy, wondering just where she’d come to, ‘I’m not familiar with the hulder … elf people but I’m sure there must be a way around this.’

      If Alex rolled his eyes any harder they might pop out of his head.

      Elin and Freya gave apologetic shrugs, shuffling on the spot. Lucy noticed that they hadn’t actually made any move toward the door. In fact, she got the distinct impression that they were stalling, almost as if they were as keen as she was to find a solution.

      ‘Wait,’ she held up a hand, grateful that it was steady. She couldn’t believe this was happening on her first flipping day. ‘What if…’ Come on brain. Think. ‘What if we…’ Elin, Freya and Hekla looked at her hopefully. ‘What if we…’ she stalled again and then inspiration made her words rush out in a flood, ‘move the staff into guest rooms for the time being?’

      Alex didn’t look impressed. What was his problem?

      ‘All of them?’ Hekla creased her forehead in quick mental calculation and started ticking names off on her fingers. ‘Olafur, Brynja, Gunnar, Olga, Freya, Elin, Dagur … Magnus, Odin, Alex.’ She pulled a mournful face. ‘We have lots of guests arriving in the next few days.’

      Lucy lifted her chin ignoring the balloon deflating sensation in her stomach. There had to be a solution. There had to be. It was quite odd, Freya and Elin seemed to want to stay, so it wasn’t as if they were using the elf situation as an excuse to do a runner. Absently she rubbed at her neck, her fingers snagging on the chain of her necklace as she racked her brains.