Likewise, his reply read.

She felt a stab of disappointment. One flat word wasn’t enough to satisfy her hungry mind. ‘Likewise’ was something so impersonal; a word that people would use after meeting at a birthday gathering or a party conference. Her phone buzzed again and her heart leaped as she read a second message:

I don’t want to take a shower. Want to keep the smell of you on me tonight.

She replied with a heart emoji and closed her eyes as she thought back to their meeting, which seemed to have been so long ago, even though only a few hours had passed. She had asked Gunnar to drive her to Thorbjörn’s home for what she described as a ‘short meeting’ without any further explanation. Forty minutes later she had come rushing back out to the car and sat in the back. Gunnar’s expression had remained completely impassive, with no indication that he had noticed anything as she repaired her makeup and brushed her hair on the way home.

Úrsúla was startled by a knock. She couldn’t be sure if she had been deep in a daydream, or somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, but now she was wide awake and her heart hammered in her chest. She got to her feet and went into the hall, then stopped and stood still, listening. Maybe it had been her imagination, a warning from her conscience, which had been sleeping deep inside her and was now stirring. Nonni wouldn’t knock – he had a key – and the children were in their beds. She tiptoed to the door of Ari’s room and looked inside. He was fast asleep, face down as usual, the duvet kicked off and the floor scattered with toys. 114Maybe he had kicked one of his toys out of the bed and it had landed on the floor, waking her up. It wouldn’t be the first time he had fallen asleep over his Lego. Úrsúla slipped into his room, picked up the duvet, laid it over him and gently stroked his hair. He was a beautiful boy and would grow into a handsome man like his father.

The knock was repeated. Úrsúla stiffened. It came from the front door. Unmistakeable. Someone was at the door.

47

Stella was pleased with how her evening had gone. She had resisted the temptation of a pub crawl, mainly because she had chugged a couple of beers in the half-hour she had spent with Gréta, and taken a couple more with her for later. She had also made herself a sandwich and heated it up under the grill while a stressed-out Gréta had made her check out one top after another, until Stella finally nodded her approval at a pleated blouse, which she told Gréta to wear under her jacket. Gréta rolled up the top and the jacket and stuffed them in her bag. She would change into them before meeting the woman for a drink. Stella told her to arrange to meet at the Slipway Bar, and to take care to leave after two drinks, saying that she had another appointment. It was always best to be the one to call time.