Ida held me tight and breathed in my ear: ‘I’m so glad you came!’ Her voice pierced my brain which was already thumping with the heavy rhythms of a song I didn’t like. I was a bit put out when Ida kissed me on the cheek as well, but I just smiled and tried in vain to stop my face flushing red. Again, I noticed some looks from the room. People clearly found Ida’s behaviour odd.

‘Where are your parents?’ I asked. I wondered if there was ever a better question to kill a party.

‘It’s their wedding anniversary today,’ she said. ‘Or … something. They went for dinner somewhere. They promised not to be back until late.’

Let’s hope not, I thought. I tried to picture what the house would look like in a few hours’ time. Ida was dancing – half on her own, half with me. She was still holding my hand.

‘Come on,‘ she said. ‘Let’s get you something to drink.’

She didn’t wait for a yes or a no, just pulled me with her. I thought of GP. So this was what he felt like, being dragged along all the time.

The music wasn’t as loud in the kitchen, but a group of people were standing around a machine that was humming and whirring. One of the guys – I didn’t know him from before – looked at me with a sneer on his lips. I decided to ignore him.

‘We’re making smoothies,’ Ida said. ‘I make insanely good smoothies.’

‘So I’ve heard.’

There was a tall, glass blender on the worktop and lots of fruit, yoghurt, juice and alcohol. Ida pulled me over and started to throw kiwi, banana, strawberry and avocado into the blender. Then she poured in some juice. She was about to open a bottle of vodka as well, when I said: ‘No alcohol for me, please.’

‘Oh, come on,’ she said. ‘Don’t be such a party pooper.’

Then she poured in the vodka, as though it was water, and started the machine. The noise was swallowed by the laughter and music from the living room. I wondered how this was honouring Mari and Johannes – if anyone else was even thinking of them at all right now. Ida let the blender do its thing for about thirty seconds, then she poured the red-green-whitish sludge into a glass and handed it to me.

‘How many of these have you had so far?’

‘Why do you ask, Daddy?’

I gave her a sheepish smile.

‘Taste it.’

I did as she said, and decided that ‘insane’ was actually the best way to describe her smoothie. The combination of fruit and vodka was strange, initially nice and sweet, but then followed by a taste like nails and poison. I took a tiny sip for the sake of appearances. ‘Very good,’ I said.

‘Well, hello there!’ Fredrik’s voice cut through the noise behind me.