‘He called me,’ I say. ‘Said he’d come to my house to have a chat. Like it was just, you know, casual. I think I said yes because I wanted to talk about Mari. To try and sort out my own thoughts about her. Explain myself, maybe. And I knew Ole. He’s my best friend’s dad. And my mum wasn’t home, so…’

‘Your best friend – that’s Oskar, correct?’

‘Correct.’

‘But Ole didn’t just want to talk to you about your relationship with Mari, did he?’

I run a hand through my hair. It was getting a bit damp. ‘No, he didn’t.’

12

THEN

Before Ole arrived, I took another shower and put on some clean clothes. It made me feel a little bit better, but all the strength in my body seemed to have left me. Just walking up the stairs from my bedroom exhausted me.

Ole had worked on the Fredheim Chronicle for twenty-two years. Five more than my entire existence. I liked Ole – he was always cheerful, at least when I was around. He was quite strict with Oskar, but I thought that maybe real parenting should be like that.

We shook hands out on the front step, which felt a bit odd. Ole’s hair was thinning on top and receding at the front, but otherwise he looked good for a man in his mid-forties. As we chatted and he came inside, I had the impression he was sizing me up, but not in the same way PCI Mork had. Ole seemed to be trying to work out how I was feeling, not whether I was a double murderer or not.

‘Even,’ Ole said, in a kind voice, ‘We can do this another time, if you’d prefer.’

I said: ‘No, it’s fine.’

We sat down in the kitchen. Ole put his hands flat on the table and looked around.

‘So, how’s the football?’ he asked.

I looked up. ‘It’s the off-season right now.’

‘But you’re still in training, aren’t you?’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Three times a week.’

‘So there’s quite a lot of shuttling back and forth?’

‘Yes,’ I said and paused. Lillestrøm, my football club, was forty-two kilometres away from Fredheim. ‘But I’m used to it. Besides, Imo usually gives me a ride, so it’s fine, really. It’ll be much easier when I get my driver’s licence.’

‘Are you still in the under-seventeens national team?’

‘I don’t know, to be honest. There hasn’t been a call-up for a while.’

‘You’ll become a professional one day.’

I smiled. It felt good to smile.

‘Which team would you like to play for?’ Ole asked.

‘United, of course.’

‘You mean Leeds?’

I pulled a face. ‘There’s only one United, Ole. You know that.’

We grinned at each other. Neither of us said anything for a while.