A girl with dark hair and slanted eyes narrowed with laughter. Crooked, pearl-white smile; one of the big front teeth had still not emerged, the other still had a ragged edge. The woman was around forty, and just as fair as the youngster was dark. She had her arm around her daughter and her forehead tilted towards the girl’s hair.

The mother was smiling.

‘It was Dad who taught me how to win,’ Hege said. ‘But it was Mum who taught me how to lose. Dad taught me to ski. Mum taught me everything else. I ski for Dad. I try to be a good person for my Mum’s sake.’

Suddenly she caught hold of Selma’s hand. It was cold and slightly clammy.

‘I haven’t taken drugs,’ she said in a soft, urgent voice. ‘And it’s bloody awful that so many people believe I did. I can’t sleep, all my routines have been broken, my whole life has been turned upside down, and Dad is in the depths of despair. My career as a skier shouldn’t be over for years yet. All the same … all the same …’

She let Selma go. Covered her face with both hands.

‘All the same, that’s not why it’s important for me to be exonerated,’ she said, her voice almost non-existent behind her hands. ‘Totally exonerated. I can probably manage without skiing. It’s not as if we’re hard up exactly …’

Her hands fell and she looked around the room.

‘… and I did well at senior high school. I can continue my education. Do something conventional. But you see …’

‘Your mother would have been so sad.’

Selma’s voice was different now. Her eyes were moist, as if on the verge of crying, but Hege had read somewhere that she couldn’t shed tears.

‘Yes, Mum would have been absolutely devastated.’

‘She would have known that you haven’t done anything wrong, Hege. She would have had confidence in you. Mothers are like that. Most mothers, anyway.’

‘Yes, but all the same. It’s important for me to be cleared. For many reasons, not least for Dad, but most of all for Mum’s sake.’

A movement outside the window made them both wheel around.

Out there, in what remained of the grey afternoon light, under an apple tree only five metres from the house stood a roe deer. It was looking straight at them, with its ears pricked. Its jaws were working from side to side, rhythmic and incessant.

‘Dad leaves out carrots,’ Hege whispered. ‘And then they eat the half-frozen windfall fruits.’

They stood there, motionless, for several minutes.

‘I believe in you,’ Selma said softly and slowly.

‘Thanks.’

‘The problem is that I’m completely at a loss. I’ve no idea what your father thinks I can do for you.’