He stopped waving the brush around, and his hands fell to his sides. Drained of energy, he fell silent, and Olga could see from the tension in his face and his eyes that flashed around the kitchen, as if he was watching some invisible battle taking place, that he was still confused and anxious, and becoming angry.83

‘There, there,’ she said, and finally he seemed to return to consciousness.

His eyes looked into hers, and she could see a deep well of sorrow in them. These eyes must have seen so much – she could barely imagine what. She could feel her own deep sympathy welling up inside her.

He turned and walked out of the kitchen, and a moment later she heard his door shut behind him. She breathed more easily and collapsed onto a chair. This was the first time she had seen him experience a panic attack when fully awake, and this was the first time that she had been afraid of him.

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34

It wasn’t far from the coffee shop to Daníel’s place on the far side of the brook that flowed through Hafnarfjörður. She had to pass on to him what Ellý had told her. Ísafold stealing drugs from relatives had to be important.

There was no reply when she rang the doorbell, but Áróra could hear the sound of music coming from the garden, so she decided that he had to be outside, making the most of the weather while it lasted, as the local expression put it. As she turned the corner into the garden, she was met by a wall of smoke, billowing from the barbecue on the decking behind Daníel’s flat.

‘Hello, there,’ he called, standing with tongs in his hands and dressed in shorts and a T-shirt.

‘Making the most of the weather?’ she said with a smile. He laughed and turned a slab of meat on the barbecue.

‘There’s every reason to,’ he said. ‘Dinner’s early here. Normally people start the barbecue too late in the day, when it’s already getting cool. Isn’t this what a summer holiday is all about? Meals when you feel like it and sleep whenever you want?’

‘Absolutely,’ Áróra agreed, taking a seat in one of the garden chairs. The decking was sheltered from the breeze, and she had to admit that it was pretty warm, so she took off her jacket and felt the sun on her bare arms. ‘I wanted to tell you something I heard about Ísafold,’ she said, accepting the beer he handed her. ‘From our cousin Ellý, who I know you’ve also been in touch with.’

‘After dinner,’ he said, heaping lamb onto a dish and placing it on the table. ‘You will stay, won’t you? There’s plenty of meat, and we can split the potato between us.’