Áróra nodded and smiled courteously. This was what she found uncomfortable. What could be a perfectly normal conversation in Iceland might be seen as nosey in Britain, and it was frequently difficult to be sure where the thin lines dividing the two lay.

‘And you?’ he asked. ‘Married? Children?’

She shook her head, flustered again.

‘No,’ she said, not knowing what she could add. She had asked first, so it was to be expected that he would ask about her own circumstances in return, but she felt that he was mentally undressing her, looking her up and down, naked and defenceless. It was difficult to fathom what was happening behind those pale-grey eyes.

‘Coffee?’ he asked, and turned to go into the kitchen. She remembered the peculiar Icelandic ‘ten drops’ expression, shorthand for half a cup of coffee, so she used it.

‘Maybe ten drops,’ she said.

This was one of those expressions that sounded so weird, such an artificial way of speaking. As everyone knew, most Icelanders would gladly knock back a whole mug of coffee, or even the whole pot if it was on offer. She got to her feet and followed him into 52the kitchen, rather than sit awkwardly on the sofa until he brought her coffee, as if she was some kind of fine lady who demanded to be served.

‘Your mother said that you’re searching for your sister,’ Daníel said as he opened a kitchen cupboard and took out a coffee jar. The kitchen was quite bare, as if he had only just moved in. The kitchen worktop was completely clear, and there was an old-fashioned net curtain in the window that looked to have been there for a long time. He heaped spoonfuls of coffee into a cafetière while he waited for the kettle to boil.

‘Give me your take on all this. From the beginning,’ he said, and Áróra again noticed how mild his voice was. This tone had to be something he used to his advantage when he questioned people. The warmth was reassuring and relaxing.

Áróra sat on a kitchen stool and told the story of how Björn had assaulted Ísafold, and how Áróra had come to Iceland three times to help out, getting her to a doctor or a counsellor, and once staying with her to cook mashed-up meals that her sister could eat despite her wired-up jaw. She told him how, on the fourth occasion, she had refused to run a rescue mission to Iceland, telling her sister to sort out her own problems, or get Björn to help her, as she always went back to him anyway – and she told him how much she regretted this now.

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