Agla sighed. Her own experience was much the same. Everyone wanted something for their efforts.

‘All I want is to be left alone,’ she said. ‘Shut the door as you leave.’

‘But, listen, I was only joking when I did what I did. I must’ve got the wrong end of the stick – I thought you were like me.’

‘Like you how?’

‘You know. Queer,’ Elísa said and giggled as if it were funny.

Agla felt the anger growing inside her.

‘It’s none of your fucking business what I’m like or why I’m here, or anything else! Just stop being so nosy and leave me in peace!’

27

The north wind was so cold that they were both left with red faces and running noses by the time they took the turning off Hafravatnsvegur and set off along the track up the slope. Gunnar killed the moped’s engine and Anton gingerly dismounted. On the way it had occurred to him that if they came off the moped for some reason, they would be in real trouble – all the explosives they had prepared were in the pack on his back and there was a full can of petrol jammed between them on the seat. It wouldn’t need much of a spark to blow them sky high.

They walked side by side up the slope, to where the moorland petered out and the undergrowth became so thick they had to go in single file. Gunnar went in front with the petrol can in his hand, Anton behind with the pack on his back. The birches were still leafless, but the buds were starting to show, indicating that before long the woodland would take on the green hue of spring. The air was too cold to carry any scent of the woods, but Anton still felt that he sensed an aroma of spring. It reminded him of his childhood, and an image appeared in his mind of his father by a lake with a fishing rod, and somewhere close at hand his mother sitting on a blanket with their picnic at her side. In between them ran a younger version of himself, small and happy. His mother hadn’t always hated his father. He had memories of them kissing, laughing, dancing cheek to cheek in the living room. But somewhere, at some time, something had gone wrong, and the suspicion that it was his fault gnawed at his conscience.

‘Right!’ Gunnar said, once they were over the ridge and into the valley, out of sight of the road. ‘What shall we start with?’

Anton delicately removed the pack from his shoulders and looked around. This was a good place. There was stony ground on the slope, so there was no chance that they would set fire to any peat or heather. Not far away was a cliff face, and in front of it were a few respectable boulders behind which they could take shelter.