Agla came round to the sound of the doctor’s deep voice, which somehow had seemed to grow louder inside the void of her unconsciousness. Maybe he had been standing there talking for a while.

‘You were lucky,’ he said. ‘You were extremely fortunate that the rope stretched almost enough to let you sit; it meant your bodyweight wasn’t concentrated entirely on your neck. Otherwise you’d have broken it, and damaged your spinal cord too. But as the rope stretched and you weren’t hanging there for long, we’re only looking at damage to your airway, and some swelling and bruises. Even your larynx is in pretty good condition. So you’ll be in here overnight and then you should be able to go home tomorrow,’ he said. Then he glanced at Guðrún, who coughed gently. ‘I mean, you can be discharged tomorrow.’

Agla blinked slowly instead of trying to nod her head, as her neck was still too stiff.

The doctor turned to leave.

‘There’ll be a psychiatrist coming to see you later today. That’s the rule when this kind of thing happens,’ he added from the doorway.

When this kind of thing happens, Agla thought to herself. Why doesn’t he just say when people try to kill themselves?

6

Júlía tiptoed up to the school steps, where Anton stood with his back to her, and slipped her little finger into his hand. He responded by twisting his little finger around hers. This was their special thing, an expression of what passed between them and their main physical connection. Anything further had been forbidden, which in itself had been unbelievably embarrassing, but hadn’t actually changed things much. They could still spend all the time they wanted together, her father had said when he had visited Anton’s father to ‘talk things over’, and they could go to each other’s houses and see each other, just as long as their bedroom doors remained open.

Anton had seen how his father had been taken by surprise by this visit, and how he had tried to hide it. To begin with he had used small talk, and had filled the old man with coffee and biscuits to stifle any serious conversation. Then, much to Anton’s surprise, he had agreed with Júlía’s father. Anton had expected him to go along with what his son was doing without saying a word. But instead he had announced to Anton in his grave voice that if he was serious about the girl, then he could wait. And Anton could wait. Everyone at school knew they were together, so none of the other boys dared go anywhere near her, which meant that he could be sure she was his; the prettiest girl in the school. In fact, she was easily the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Of course they broke the rules; they kissed and cuddled when nobody could see them, but it wasn’t often, as he could sense that she was uncomfortable with disobeying her father, and he didn’t want to pressure her. As his father had spelled out to him, if he wanted to hold on to the girl, then he would have to behave in a way that made her feel safe around him.