‘Who was the bass guitarist?’ I asked Jakob.

‘Stig? Don’t you remember him? Stig Madsen.’

‘Ah, him, yes. I wasn’t sure,’ Gro said. Kari smiled hazily.

‘He was the vocalist in The Badboys,’ Jakob went on. ‘Our main rivals for a while. You could say that he and Johnny fought for their share of…’ his eyes swept across to the two women; ‘…the audience. There were some who liked Johnny and some who liked Stig.’

‘And there were some who liked you,’ Gro said, her cheeks flushed. The shiny gold ring she was wearing on the third finger of her right hand sparkled.

‘But that was before I grew a beard, eh?’49

She tousled his beard affectionately. ‘Afterwards, too.’

I still felt like the fifth wheel on a wagon. I gazed down at Kari’s right hand. A narrow ring with a light-blue stone. It could mean everything or nothing.

She peered up at me. Then she said gently: ‘Did you never play in a band?’

‘Only the piano. But I never got any further than Für Elise.’

‘It’s nice, that piece,’ she smiled.

‘Where do you live in Landås?’ I asked, to change the subject.

‘Erleveien,’ she said, rolling her ‘r’s in the way that only Bergensians can.

Stig Madsen was suddenly at our table with a foaming beer in one hand and a phoney smile in the other. ‘Well, what do you know? Folk have already paired off? Is there space for a former … rival?’

Gro moved closer to Jakob, hunched up her shoulders and said: ‘Where there’s a will…’

Stig Madsen lifted a chair over an adjacent table and squeezed up at ours. ‘Just like in the old days, hey?’ He looked around and shook hands with the women. ‘Hiya, hiya.’

‘Gro.’

‘K-Kari.’

Then he looked at me, intently, as though I were a face he ought to remember. ‘And you are…?’

‘Varg,’ I said. ‘Veum. But I don’t think we’ve…’

‘I don’t, either.’

‘A childhood friend of mine,’ Jakob said.

‘Uhuh. From Nordnes then,’ Stig said. ‘I was the terror of Mindeveien,’ he added. ‘But we used to cruise around Landås, too.’ He sent the women an eloquent look.

Kari blushed. Gro took a deep breath and stood her ground. ‘Not round our patch, you didn’t.’50

‘No? Well, maybe not. Perhaps someone who looked like you.’ He turned his attention back to Jakob. ‘And you, Jakob, have you hung up your boots for good? Don’t you even do the golden oldie slots?’

Jakob shook his head. ‘No. Once I’d stopped, I’d stopped.’

‘Pretty sudden, wasn’t it?’

Jakob scanned the room as if to avoid answering.

Stig leaned across the table. ‘I must say I was pretty surprised to see you … down below … with Johnny.’

‘Oh?’ Jakob answered in a measured tone.

‘There were strong rumours at the time … that you and Johnny had fallen out. And that was why you packed it in.’

The two women were following every word now.

Stig continued: ‘Rumour had it that you and Anita…’ He held up two fingers on his right hand, closely entwined. ‘And the following year they were divorced.’