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Chapter 13

Kristoffer serves us a starter of brown trout ceviche, followed by confit duck. Mum and Stein and I lavish praise on him, Olea doesn’t like ceviche and is allowed to have a sandwich instead. Marthe is cross with Kristoffer for making something she’s not allowed to eat.

‘Plenty of pregnant women eat sushi,’ I tell her. ‘It just depends what kind of fish it is.’

‘I think I’m the best informed when it comes to this, thank you,’ Marthe says.

I heard her and Kristoffer in the kitchen before he started cooking, Marthe said he was making too much of a fuss.

‘You can’t confit the life out of everything every day, it takes you hours, and I’m the one who’s left entertaining Olea.’

‘You’re hardly entertaining her much,’ Kristoffer says.

I eat the fatty duck thigh and potatoes in their slick of oil and butter and thyme, vegetables in a vinaigrette dressing, load more potatoes onto my plate, I have some wine, top up my glass twice, it doesn’t bother me if they think I’m 88drinking too quickly. The only person matching my pace is Kristoffer.

‘How’s the love life then, Ida?’ Stein asks after the meal. Kristoffer has taken Olea inside to put her to bed, and Marthe is clearing the table, I don’t get up to help her.

Mum gives him a tap on the arm.

‘Ouch,’ Stein says, pretending to be cross. ‘Am I not allowed to ask the question? Is it a “me too” thing?’