‘The Harpers split up at around the same time.’205

‘Yes, so? They were probably sick of him too. He was becoming a real arsehole.’

‘You can’t say it any clearer than that.’

‘I’ll draw it for you, if you like.’

‘No, thank you, I know what one looks like.’

She calmed down. The cat glowered at me. It didn’t like me, but the feeling was mutual. ‘OK, it’s a long time ago, but it still makes me angry to think about it.’

‘What does?’

‘The years I wasted on him. And what am I left with? A life on the skids, squashed so flat that I’ll never be able to get up.’

‘I remember you as a girl with vitality.’

‘Bah!’ She snorted with derision. ‘You remember me! You probably do. But that was before … before Johnny took me on a tour of hell.’ She slumped forward. ‘I’ll tell you what it was like … the endless uncertainty, never knowing. Will he come home like this or like that, drunk or sober? Will he be violent or not? Will he want to get his leg over or not? You’re never your own master – or mistress – or whatever you call it. Always on your guard. For years I had two suitcases packed under the beds in the kids’ room. One with their clothes in and one with mine.’

‘But why … why do you women stick it for so long, that’s what I never understand.’

‘Because we used to love them. I did love him once. And in those days there were no crisis centres to go to either. Not as far as I knew anyway. Social services had to step in, and you know the stigma attached to that.’

‘Mm. To change the subject, Anita, I was wondering…’

‘Yes?’

‘The other two in The Harpers who died – Harry Kløve and Arild Hjellestad.’206

‘Yes, I remember I saw that in the papers.’

‘You didn’t have any contact with them in later years?’

She shook her head. ‘Not with either of them.’

‘Nor with Jakob Aasen?’

She looked at me with unseeing eyes. ‘No,’ she said softly. ‘Not with him either.’

I carried on quickly. ‘Harry’s situation was clear enough. There was his mother, but Arild … Do you remember who he was with at the time they split up?’

‘In 1975?’ she said tensely.

‘Yes.’ And I added with an apologetic smile: ‘I know he had so many.’

She seemed to be giving this question a lot of thought. The cat stared. It didn’t appear to be thinking at all. It was like the Gestapo. Whenever I met its eyes I felt a need to avert my own as though afraid it might jump up at my face.

Eventually she said: ‘It could’ve been Halldis. I saw quite a bit of her for a while. We understood each other in a way … Just a moment.’ She moved the cat to the side, straightened up with difficulty and went out, closing the door behind her and leaving me alone with my guard.