‘Yes,’ he said quietly. His voice was warm and encouraging, completely at odds with what he had to say. ‘It means that either she faked this picture herself to lay a false trail, away from where she really is, or else someone else has posted the picture to lead people astray. And now we need to go to the police station.’

The weight that bore down on Áróra now seemed so much greater after the cloud of relief she’d floated on as she had arrived at Daníel’s place; it was just a few moments ago, but now seemed an age away. She felt her legs give way and her body dissolved into a howl that swamped everything like an unstoppable wave. He caught her before she fell and held her in his arms, pulling her 146close to him so that her cheek pressed against his neck, one hand on her head and the other patting her back with a soothing beat. For a moment she felt like a child in his arms – her future and her whole happiness depending on him. As long as he held her tight and patted her back, she felt that the cold reality of what might have happened to Ísafold could not reach her.

Now Ísafold was no longer sour and sharp in her memory, no longer the waspish Ísafold who had called her a lousy kid, blocked her on Facebook and lied that she had fallen against a radiator. She was the fourteen-year-old Ísafold who played with Barbie dolls, smiled at her, taught her to plait her hair and tickled her in bed after dark – her sister Ísafold.

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60

Most of the specialist shops Grímur remembered from his childhood had disappeared from the city centre, replaced by tourist shops and restaurants. There had been such a diametric change to the centre during his lifetime that anyone would imagine he was an old man, and not just past forty. He loathed the large shopping malls, but he had no choice but to venture into Kringlan, as it contained the only shop that stocked a range of suitcases wide enough that he might find what he was looking for.

The hiss in his ears began as soon as he stepped inside the mall. There was something about the chatter of the crowds, or the hum of the escalators, or the lights, or maybe a combination of all of these, that magnified his discomfort, and he was always glad when he could step outside again into the fresh air. But now he had a task to undertake, so he would have to grin and bear it. He marched directly to the shop, and was inside, pulling suitcases from the shelves and inspecting them when a shop assistant appeared, asking if she could help. This was a young woman, practically a child, wearing perilously high heels.