‘A natural.’

‘Arild Hjellstad on the other hand…’

‘What about him?’

‘A chubby little monkey. Arms too short to ever become a drummer of any note, but with enough energy to blast the Askøy ferry backwards.’

‘So you do remember that time?’

‘When his drum kit was left on the quayside, you mean?’

‘And Arild was jumping up and down on the bridge like a yo-yo and got the skipper to turn back.’ At this his face lit up. ‘Those were the days, eh, Varg? Oh, those were the days.’

‘He bounced up and down behind the drums like a rubber ball, chipmunk cheeks, wild hair, as nutty as a fruitcake. When I see them in my mind’s eye – all of you, that is, the way you were then – it’s almost impossible for me to imagine you as old.’ I looked at him and his bearded face. ‘You, for example, are quite simply a completely different person.’

‘They didn’t live to be very old, either,’ Jakob said quickly, and his face darkened again.

‘What do you mean? Who?’

‘Both of them. Don’t you read death notices?’

‘Yes, I do, but I didn’t see anything…?’29

‘Less than a year between them.’ He flicked his fingers, without managing to make them snap. ‘And, just like that, they’re gone. Both of them.’

‘What did they die of?’

He craned his head and looked around. ‘I … don’t want to talk about it.’ He turned back to me. ‘Shall we go?’

‘Why won’t…?’

‘No.’

I nodded. ‘OK.’

Paul Finckel was still going strong. His chubby fingers were fidgeting with the side-seam of the dress belonging to the lady with the angst-ridden face, as though he were one of her nightmares brought to life. She, however, seemed oblivious as she hung around his neck grasping her own wrist.

We winked as we left.

He winked back and made some ape-like thrusts with his hips. The lady blinked and abruptly stared up at the ceiling as though someone had run a cold object down her spine.

Jakob and I supported each other down the dangerous staircase, past the surly bouncer and into the black December night.

I looked at my watch as we stepped onto the pavement. There were still a few hours left until midnight. It was a long time to the following day. Tomorrow was a foreign country. And I didn’t even remember if I had my passport on me.

30

4

The night sky was dotted with star-shaped crystals. They fell to earth like fluffy scraps of felt, melted and disappeared beneath our feet. We crossed Ole Bulls plass, which was closed to all through traffic. In the middle of the square there was a police vehicle with its engine running. On the opposite side some dark shadows crept alongside the walls. Somewhere in the distance a car horn blared, and from the other side of Byparken came the voice of a rejected suitor: ‘Oh, oh, oh, oh, oooh, lonesome me-e…’