Of course, there was a fifteen-year age gap between them, and that had to be a barrier. Although he wished it wasn’t that way, he understood. On top of that, this Hákon was a very different type from him – delicate and lithe, or so he seemed, the type that always looked the part, with a taut, youthful complexion, suits perfectly pressed, fashionably groomed and hair trimmed no less recently than yesterday, a million-króna watch on his wrist. In contrast, Daníel was a head taller, broader across the shoulders, and the bike meant that he normally wore denim or leather, and a haircut meant running a trimmer over his head once in a while.

By seven in the morning he was dozing, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, mulling over the meaning of Áróra’s name, as if it might reflect something of the person who bore it and therefore give him some insight into her. Did the name mean ‘dawn’, or ‘Northern Lights’? Was she day or night? Was she the brightening daylight or the indistinct flashes of electricity in the dark winter sky?180

Was it possible to have your heart broken by someone you hardly know and have in fact never been close to, apart from one short motorcycle journey and an awkward kiss in a field of lupins? It was completely illogical, but he felt that her presence had come with a vague promise of something more, and now that promise was gone, and he wanted to weep and at the same time roar. He had a pain in his belly. He hadn’t felt this way since he was a teenager. Maybe this was what they called a midlife crisis? He decided to go outside into the garden and talk to Lady. That always cleared his head. Drawing your attention elsewhere for a while so that you became more focused was how some people thought that hypnosis worked.

He was taken by surprise when the door to the converted garage opened as soon as he knocked; for a moment he was sure that an unfamiliar man had answered it.

‘Welcome to my humble house,’ Lady said, stepping aside to let him in. All Daníel could do was stare.

Instead of nylon tights and a silk dressing gown, today’s outfit was faded jeans and a grey T-shirt, and not a trace of make-up to be seen. Instead, there was the shadow of a day’s growth of stubble.

‘I can see you’re surprised. But while femininity is captivating as a competitive sport, there’s relief to be had in putting it aside for a while.’

‘Wow. You don’t seem like your real self…’

‘Well, I have many different selves, darling. Just the same as you do. Just like everyone else. Most people only let one of these show.’