‘I’m not sure what to expect, to be honest. I didn’t expect to end up on your couch, for starters,’ Jack said.

She brought out a huge bowl of pink shrimps, kissed him quickly and pointed at the table. ‘I hope you didn’t mind.’

‘Not at all,’ Jack said.

He followed her to the table and inspected the shrimps. ‘They still have their shells on and their heads,’ he said.

‘They’re supposed to. This is a Norwegian summer treat. I got them from a fishing boat this morning. They boil them before they come in to land. Don’t touch them yet. Could you cut up your lovely bread, please?’

Jack was intrigued. He dutifully cut the bread and put it on the table.

Ninni handed him a plate with butter. ‘Do you want to stick with the wine? I have a few bottles of Britt’s beer,’ she said.

Jack couldn’t care less what they were drinking. ‘Beer will do fine.’

He sat down and watched her bring the beer bottles from the fridge. She spotted him watching her and blushed a little.

‘What? You’re not getting the T-shirt back,’ she said, laughing.

‘I’ve never eaten shrimps this way,’ he confessed.

‘And you call yourself a chef.’ Ninni picked a shrimp out of the bowl and held it up. ‘Twist the head and break it off. Then pull the rest of the shell apart and take out the meat. See?’

She showed him and Jack snapped the shrimp from her, putting it in his mouth. It was salty and chewy, and tasted like the sea. ‘I like this.’

Ninni buttered a piece of bread and handed it to him. ‘It’s even better if you put a pile of shrimps on buttered bread and eat it with some of the remoulade.’

Jack followed her example and heaped shelled shrimps onto the bread, followed by a generous amount of the remoulade. ‘This doesn’t count as actual cooking, you know,’ he said before biting into the bread.

It was delicious, he had to admit that.

‘I’m not a fancy chef,’ Ninni said, unbothered.

Jack realised he was being watched. Frikk was staring at him with a mournful look. ‘Do dogs eat shrimps?’

‘You can give him a few, but not too many,’ Ninni said.

Jack flipped a shrimp and the dog caught it in the air.

‘I think he swallowed it whole.’ Jack flipped him another one. ‘Yes, definitely whole.’

Ninni laughed. Jack smiled. For the first time since he had met her, she didn’t look haunted or tired.

***

Ninni woke up, feeling slightly off. She looked at Jack, sleeping soundly next to her. He obviously felt comfortable. She enjoyed watching him sleep for a few seconds before realising how creepy it was, and had to stifle a laugh.

She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and almost passed out. ‘Whoa,’ she said quietly.

For a second she sat still and waited for the room to stop spinning. Must be the wine and the beer, she thought. I can’t remember the last time I drank. But it was lovely, and worth every minute, both him and the meal. Except that now the idea of food made her queasy.