Eva nodded, turned and was gone, and Úrsúla sat at the computer to check her emails. Eva had already filtered them efficiently, marking the ones that she ought to deal with personally. She would be able to get through a few of them before the cabinet meeting. 57

She was just finishing the coffee the secretary had brought her and had made progress on the unanswered emails when Eva appeared in the doorway.

‘I’ve called the driver,’ she said. ‘Cabinet meeting, and a quick chat with the PM afterwards.’

‘He’ll want to talk about the South Coast Highway,’ Úrsúla said. ‘And I’m hardly halfway through it. There’s a whole stack of material to go through.’

‘You could ask Rúnar for information, if you need it,’ Eva said, opening the door for her. ‘And I can read through material and give you a digest.’

Úrsúla nodded. There was every likelihood she would do just that. There didn’t seem to be many spare hours for work that required concentration in this job.

‘It’s plain idiotic to be driven from one building to the next when it would be quicker to walk,’ she said. In the light of day, yesterday’s fear now seemed pointless and she was already regretting having agreed to this ridiculous ministerial-car-and-driver idea.

‘The last thing you need is to meet the media outside when you’re out of breath and have wet feet from trudging across Arnarhóll in the snow,’ Eva said, holding Úrsúla’s coat so she could slip into it.

‘I can dress myself,’ she said, but Eva laughed.

‘Get used to being waited on,’ she said. ‘It’ll do you good.’

Úrsúla scowled. Nonni told her the same thing. He enjoyed looking after her, even though she knew that he did this partly to show her how pleasant their home life was and that she’d be better off with him and the children than in some disaster area, trying to put things to rights. She knew it was also a declaration of love: his way of showing her how dear she was to him.

She took the cabinet meeting agenda from Eva’s hand and scanned it while they walked to the lift.

‘And what did our excellent permanent secretary have to say 58about this morning’s message?’ she asked as the lift doors closed behind them.

‘He just mansplained to me that this kind of case couldn’t be prioritised while there’s other important ministry work waiting to be dealt with, but he would naturally acquiesce to the minister’s wishes and examine the case.’

‘Ach. Poor man,’ Úrsúla sighed. ‘I’ll give him a gentle reminder later today, and again tomorrow, and again after that until he gives up and does what I ask him.’

‘Welcome to politics,’ Eva said and Úrsúla laughed.

‘Somehow I don’t think I’m going to be here long. This is just a temporary role, but hopefully I can achieve something useful and then move on to something else.’

She had always imagined that she would spend most of her working life dirty and sweaty as she tried to impose order on chaos and relieve suffering. Having children hadn’t exactly fitted in with such a career, so when she had been pregnant with Herdís she had agreed to a desk job with UNHCR. But that hadn’t lasted. Before long she was back in the field, going to refugee camps to gather information for the commission. After that, she had taken occasional unpaid leave as other organisations and bodies offered her assignments, and that was how it had been until a year ago, when Nonni had finally had enough and made it plain that it was time for her to move back to Iceland and find a job that didn’t take her away from the family for extended periods. It had to be a job that didn’t involve lethal epidemics and falling bombs. But all the same, her idea of the future still included dust, baking heat and an all-encompassing hopelessness that she could help alleviate.