‘It’s great. There wasn’t much left of The Squirrel, and I’m overjoyed to be leaving this miserable, corrupt island run by a lousy old boys’ network.’

They were at the church doors now. Agla introduced María to William, who immediately started to flirt, much to María’s displeasure. She seemed to have instantly worked out who he was – she had studied him in detail for the Spotlight documentary – but William was obviously yet to make the connection.

What was so strange was that when Elísa had asked if there were any of her family she would like to invite, there was nobody who came to mind, and after thinking it over, Agla had decided that on a day like this she preferred to have around her the people who really knew her. She didn’t care that these people might not like her, as long as they knew the real Agla. So she mentioned María and William, and Elvar the lawyer. Elísa happily wrote their names on the sheet of paper, in a column marked Agla’s friends. The column marked Elísa’s friends was packed with names and could have been longer, but the whole crowd was unlikely to appear. Only a few people could be seen in the church. Elísa’s father was there, sitting on the front pew, along with her brother.

‘There’ll be coffee and pancakes afterwards in the café,’ Agla said, again helping herself to hand sanitiser. Her palms were sweating badly.

‘Very Icelandic,’ William said. ‘Except there’s no alcohol.’

He was quite right that it was all very much according to tradition. She would have been satisfied with a visit to the Sheriff’s representative at the prison, but as far as Elísa was concerned, the only option was this old-fashioned little church, with herself in national dress.

‘And can Elísa stay for the coffee afterwards?’ María asked.

Agla nodded.

‘Yes, she has two hours’ parole, with an escort.’

‘You didn’t want to wait?’ María asked. ‘I mean until she’s released?’

It was an awkward question that Agla didn’t want to answer, but considering it was María, who already knew everything about her, she went ahead.

‘No. We’re doing it now because she’s pregnant.’

‘Oh.’ There was no mistaking that this was not the answer María had expected.

‘We don’t know who the father is, so Elísa wants me to be mum. Or rather, the other mum. She’ll have the baby with her to start with, and then I’ll take it while she finishes her sentence. I know nothing about children, but it’ll work out.’