‘I’m a sailor on the sea of life. Isn’t that how the song goes?’

‘Yes indeed, Veum … and that’s exactly how it is. We’re all sailors on the sea of life, in the hands of the weather gods, becalmed or exposed to storms, and as such … powerless.’

‘And that coming from a priest?’

‘Why not? The church has never asserted anything else. All power lies in God’s hands. He watches over his own and not even a sparrow falls to earth without … In short, we humans are mere snowflakes that melt when fate reaches out a hand and seizes us. But fate is God’s to…’

‘And sits on His right-hand side.’

‘No, that place is occupied. But fate is God and vice versa.’

I opened my palms. ‘So in other words you’re saying that all of us down here are without guilt?’

His eyes darkened. ‘We all need forgiveness, Veum. You, too.’

‘Of course, of course. I assume you haven’t come here today to tell me that?’

‘No,’ he said quickly and cleared his throat. ‘No, Veum. No.’

He interlaced his fingers, leaned forward as if to create an impression of confidentiality, and said: ‘When I met you yesterday on my way from Reb— … fru Aasen’s it struck me that you … might have misunderstood.’

He looked at me, but I said nothing. There was a story here, the content of which I could only guess at, and I didn’t want to put obstacles in his path.

On hearing no reaction, he continued: ‘That you might 293imagine … it had started again. And you might mention it to Jakob. I don’t know how much he…’

He arched his eyebrows and I made a vague gesture while feigning an expression that said, yes, he had told me everything. And he had, but he had never mentioned any names.

He nodded, as though he’d had his worst fears confirmed. ‘Yes, I know how it is when old friends meet. All of a sudden there’s a new intimacy, and yet it’s someone who isn’t that close. Then confidences fall thick and fast, don’t they, Veum?’

I nodded. ‘Yes, that’s true enough.’

‘But what happened at that time … was a one-off occurrence. I swear to you by the blood of my christened heart, Veum. It will never happen again. Nor did it happen yesterday. I was there solely for one purpose. To make her think of her children, her unhappy husband and try – at least try – to forge the links one more time.’ After a short pause, he added quietly: ‘She’s done it before.’

He rose from his chair, did half a circuit behind it, looked around like a doubting monk in a much too cramped monastery cell, slapped the palm of one hand and exclaimed: ‘Before I met her I’d lived a blame-free life, Veum! One devoted to Jesus, in the flock of Our Lord.’

He swallowed and looked at me through moist eyes. ‘Listen. I come from a pietistic background, from a tiny place at the end of a fjord arm in Møre. My father was a lay preacher and foreman in the local furniture factory; my mother gave birth to ten children. I was the penultimate. Two of my brothers are also priests, one of my sisters joined the Salvation Army and lives in Reykjavik now, another works as a deaconess, a third a teacher, in Sunday school too – we’ve all lived our lives, dedicated to the light and salvation, free from Satan and shadowed by angels. I 294went to secondary school in Volda and moved into a bed-sit as a fourteen-year-old. Then I went to Oslo and studied theology, worked as an army chaplain and was sent to Finnmark as my first post. After four years I served for two years in Vest-Agder and then … in 1982 I moved to Bergen. The first big town I’ve ever lived in.’