Some people seemed to know her from her background in 13student politics, and someone mentioned that she had worked with refugees in foreign countries, organising aid in disaster areas, or something like that. But Stella neither watched the news nor read newspapers, so she knew nothing about this woman; she’d never even heard her name before.

It wasn’t a bad place to work, but Stella realised that she wouldn’t be here for long. Her job was part of a temporary initiative for young people who had ‘come off the rails’, and social security paid half of their wages. Mopping the corridors of the city’s smartest buildings was supposed to be a way of getting people’s lives back on track. The ministry’s staff had accepted her; they were clearly accustomed to having people in the building doing things nobody quite understood. After the first week she seemed to blend into the daily routine and nobody paid her any attention anymore. She liked that. She also liked the fact that as long as she kept the lobby floor dry and emptied the bins on the third and fourth floors, nobody was aware that she was there, as long as she punched herself in and out morning and afternoon. At the end of the day a bunch of people appeared from some big cleaning contractor and cleaned the whole ministry, so what Stella did or didn’t do made little difference. It was the easiest job she had ever had, and she had plenty to compare it against: in her nineteen years she had been through any number of jobs.

Her phone buzzed and she put the mop aside.

Party at our place tonight! read the message from Anna.

She didn’t check to see which Anna it was from. It didn’t matter. They were a couple, both called Anna. They were known as the Annas and threw regular lavish parties to which they invited only ‘cute, exciting’ girls. Stella knew that the colour of her skin alone put her in the right category; it was as if her golden-brown colouring worked like a magnet for lots of women. Normally she was quite happy to benefit from one of the few advantages of being one of the tiny minority of brown Icelanders. But after the last party the two Annas had thrown it had taken her a week to 14recover, and she had promised herself never to go back. But now it was Friday, and she was skint, with nothing to do but stay in her room and watch Netflix on the computer, so it didn’t seem such a bad idea. What else were weekends for if not having a little fun?

I’m busy and will be late, if I can get there at all, she wrote back. It didn’t do any harm to pretend that she actually had a social life; it added to her mystery. And anyway, she preferred to turn up late, when things were already in full swing and everyone had knocked back a few drinks. That way she wouldn’t have to hold any conversations. She always felt that she was more in control that way, although she knew deep down that once she had put away some of what was on offer she was as good as out of control. That was even without the Annas passing around the smarties.