Arctic Rising: A Constable Maratse Stand Alone novella (Guerrilla Greenland Book 3) by Christoffer Petersen (books for 6 year olds to read themselves txt) 📗

the first third of an arched corridor into which Inniki walked, following Petra past two small pantries full of old furniture, moving boxes, and a bicycle partly obscured by curtains. A flight of wooden steps, narrower than the stone steps outside, led up and out of the cellar to the ground floor. Petra pressed a slim finger to her lip and looked at Inniki. The last blush of light from the cellar settled in Petra’s eyes as she smiled.

“The girls made you something,” she said. “They’re not quite finished.”

Petra opened the door and Inniki narrowed her eyes, absorbing the light from the street as she followed Petra into the living room. The floorboards, painted blue, scuffed naked to the grain in places, gave them away with soft thuds beneath their feet. Two girls kneeling on an L of flat cardboard in the bay window gasped as Petra warned them of Inniki’s arrival with a soft cough. The girls hid their secret project beneath a tea towel, swapped conspiratorial glances, before flinging themselves at Inniki.

“Careful,” Petra said. She took a step forward to intervene, stopping when Inniki waved her away with a soft curl of her lips between cries of surprise at how much the girls had grown and app, it has been a long time. “Too long,” Petra said, once the girls let go of Inniki.

“I’ve been busy,” Inniki said. She slipped her hands into her coat pockets, pulling out lollipops like a magician pulls rabbits from a hat. “Abella,” she said, turning to the tallest of the two girls. “This is for you, if you tell me how old you are now.”

“Six,” Abella said, thanking Inniki with another hug and a soft, “Qujanaq,” as she took the lollipop.

“And your sister?”

“I’m four,” said the smaller of the two girls.

“Four?” Inniki tilted her head, painting a mock frown on her brow as she studied the girl. “And do you have a name?”

“You know my name.”

“Ah, but I am old. Perhaps I forgot it.” Inniki hid the last lollipop behind her back.

“Jatsi,” the girl said. She darted to one side, curling around Inniki, reaching for the lollipop, only to giggle and squeal as Inniki turned one way, then the other, evading her at every turn, until she tired and Petra stepped in.

“What do you say?” Petra said, as Inniki handed Jatsi her lollipop.

“Qujanaq,” Jatsi said.

“You’re very welcome.” Inniki watched the two girls as they compared lollipops, peeling away the plastic with Abella showing her younger sister how to flatten and save the wrapper for their collection.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen,” Petra said. She took Inniki’s jacket, and they left the girls to play.

“I wanted to come sooner,” Inniki said. She slipped onto a stiff chair at the kitchen table, nodding as Petra offered her a mug of coffee. “But with everything going on, I wanted to do an extra podcast…”

“I heard it,” Petra said, as she joined Inniki at the table. “The policeman is becoming quite popular.”

“His name is David Maratse. I think you’d like him, and I think you’d appreciate what he has to say.”

“I’m sure I would, but you know I don’t speak Greenlandic. I have to take your word for it.” Petra sipped her coffee, then tucked a loose strand of long black hair behind her ear. The light from outside lit her face, warming her soft light brown cheeks. “I have food,” she said.

“Later.”

Petra nodded.

They sat in silence for several minutes, sipping coffee, listening to the girls switch between Greenlandic, Danish, and English – choosing the latter to talk about the cloth bag they were decorating for Inniki.

Petra bit her lip as she smiled. “They don’t know you speak English.”

“We won’t tell them.”

Inniki put her mug down on the table, then took a moment to look around the kitchen, smiling at the mix of old and new – an old dresser full of small drawers of all sizes, each with a metal knob with a bright plastic cap of assorted colours. The surface of the dresser was piled high with schoolbooks, lunchboxes – more bright plastic – next to a laptop – open and charging. The plaster walls were almost hidden beneath a quilt of framed family photographs, and three years of wall calendars turned to favourite months and images of Greenland. The fridge door was a detective’s map of school schedules, bus timetables, drawings, and pizza menus, reminding Inniki of why she had come.

“How long have we known each other, Petra?” she asked.

Petra looked away as she thought about it. “It was at the social event at the Greenland House in Copenhagen.” She looked at Inniki. “A book launch, I think.”

Inniki nodded. “That’s it. It was the year before my operation, before everything changed.” She paused for a moment than looked at Petra, and said, “I need your help.”

Petra sighed. “I thought so. When you called…”

“I know. I promised not to call.”

“I don’t mind you calling,” Petra said. She reached across the table to take Inniki’s hand. “But…”

“It’s difficult.” Inniki nodded. “With you and Lauritz.”

“Lauritz is a good man,” Petra said. She glanced through the door at the girls in the next room. “He’s a good father.”

“And a good politician. Popular, too,” Inniki said.

“If he knew you were here…”

“Which is why you brought me in through the basement.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.”

“It’s just... difficult,” Petra said.

“It is difficult.” Inniki took Petra’s hand as she tried to let go, clutching it. “For everyone.”

Petra caught Inniki’s eye, and said, “Lauritz wants to speak out about what’s going on. He really does. Not just for Greenland, but for the girls.” Petra paused. “And for me. He’s obviously not Greenlandic. But he’s not blind to what’s going on. I just don’t know what I can say to him to convince him to say something in public. I just don’t.”

“It’s okay,” Inniki said. She squeezed Petra’s hand, then let go. “May I have more coffee?”

“Of course.”

Petra pushed back her chair to reach for the coffeepot. She topped up their mugs, offered food – again