‘It’s going to be fine,’ Mum says, stroking Marthe’s cheeks. ‘You’ll be a wonderful mum, you know.’

I don’t want to have to listen to this. You’ll be a wonderful mum. I feel a growing pressure against my eardrums, behind my eyes, as if I were holding back a sneeze. Slowly they wander over to the garden table, Mum with an arm 68around Marthe’s waist. Kristoffer has set out cups and pours coffee from a thermos flask.

‘Now then, isn’t this lovely,’ Mum says. ‘So, how many fish did you catch, Olea?’

‘Three,’ Olea says, picking her nose.

‘Olea, you caught one fish,’ Marthe says. ‘You caught one, and I caught two.’

‘Leave her be,’ I say, smiling at Marthe, a strained smile, one that she doesn’t return.

I spill coffee on the table as I pick up my cup, and I move the liquid with my fingertip, across the woodwork, smooth it out. These are new cups that Marthe and Kristoffer have bought, and the table is different from the one we used to have, but it’s too big, it doesn’t work in the space.

‘Where did you get the table?’ I ask.

‘I think it’s Bauhaus,’ Marthe says. ‘Isn’t that right?’

‘That’s the one,’ Kristoffer says. ‘Picked it up last year, thirty per cent off.’

‘You could ask before buying new things for the cabin,’ I say. ‘There are several of us who come here, you know.’

‘You want us to ask you before we buy a new table, when the old one is falling to pieces?’ Marthe says.

‘Or before you do any painting,’ I say.

‘You said you thought it looked nice,’ Marthe says.

‘I thought it looked nicer before,’ I say, taking a sip of my coffee. It’s hotter than I thought, I swallow quickly to avoid burning my tongue, but instead it grates at my throat and chest, scorching hot. 69

‘It’s a pretty big decision, whether the cabin should be white or yellow,’ I say.

‘But you’re hardly ever here,’ Marthe says.

‘It’s not my fault that I don’t have anyone to bring here,’ I retort.

‘No, but that’s not our fault either,’ Marthe says. ‘You could spend more time here if you wanted to, you visit us once a summer, but you’re here, there and everywhere the rest of the time.’

‘Marthe,’ Kristoffer says.

‘What?’ Marthe says. ‘I’m just saying.’

‘I used to enjoy coming here alone, you know, before I met Stein,’ Mum says. ‘I’d potter about, do some semi-nude gardening. It was lovely.’

‘Certainly sounds lovely,’ Stein says, kissing her.

‘Mum,’ Marthe says.