‘Ísafold can blame herself for that,’ she said. ‘She used to provoke Björn until he didn’t know which way to turn. And she didn’t always talk nicely to him.’

This was an attitude that Daníel had encountered before. It was exactly what he had heard from families where domestic violence occurred.

‘They had a tense relationship,’ he said, and the old woman nodded. ‘All the same, that doesn’t justify domestic violence,’ he added and the woman snorted and shook her head.

‘It’s not my problem that your daughter doesn’t want to be in touch with you,’ she said, staring at Violet.

‘She has no idea where Ísafold is,’ Daníel translated.

The two women glared at each other for a long moment, and the mutual loathing was almost palpable. He sighed with relief when Björn’s mother shut the door, and he and Violet turned to make their way down the steps. There was nothing to be gained here. There would be police officers on duty who would take statements from Björn’s family in the next few days.

202

85

The night’s rain had washed away the grey cloud that had shrouded the city, and now the sun shone, warming the glass shell around the escalator at the airport so that the atmosphere inside was like a greenhouse. Áróra sat on a bench facing the steps and wondered whether to call her mother or not. She had expected her mother to call first, and the fact that she hadn’t was a surprise. She had been anticipating the call the day before, the morning after their chance meeting in town, for her mother to go into detail concerning the error of her ways. She had her answers prepared. She was ready to explain that she had met Hákon there in the restaurant, and he had offered to accompany her back to the hotel, as she was tipsy. She knew perfectly well that her mother would figure out the lie, but also knew that sometimes she would gratefully accept a lie if the truth was too disquieting. But even though Áróra had her lies to hand, she still hadn’t plucked up courage to take the initiative and call her mother.