‘My wife, Dr Kristina Moss,’ he says. ‘None of this would have been possible without her.’ People smile and clap and a flash goes off somewhere, and it occurs to me, perhaps for the first time, that Eirik needs me as much as I need him.

3

Kristina

I wake to a repetitive muffled sound. Eirik is gone from bed and I sit up, blinking several times, but it feels as though my eyes have been stuck together. My pulse is fast and a vivid headache chases through my skull. I remember last night, all the drinks, the hours of sitting through moderately interesting speeches about political reform, progress, prosperity. For a moment I see the crown princess in my mind, how beautiful she looked with her radiant smile and subtly glinting updo. The neon light from a phone screen moves around from over in the corner, sending roaming shapes across the room.

‘Eirik?’ I whisper.

‘Hey,’ he says, shining the light toward me. ‘Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’

‘What’s happening? What time is it?’

‘It’s 5.15. I’m going to have to fly to Bergen, unfortunately. A car’s waiting outside to take me to the airport.’

‘Wait, what? It’s Saturday.’

‘I know.’

‘We’re going to spend the night at my sister’s, remember?’

‘I know. I’m sorry. Look, this is strictly confidential, but there’s a situation at the west coast party office. One of the guys I directly oversee has been accused of gross misconduct.’

I feel tears of disappointment pricking my eyes, though I know I’m being dramatic. Eirik’s decision to go from international corporate law into politics was a joint decision and I knew full well that it would be demanding on our marriage. Or did I, really? There are so many things in life we can only truly understand once we’re actually living and feeling them.

‘Okay,’ I say.