It was his mother with a man he assumed was Agnar. He could see the likeness to himself. Same colouring, same nose and jaw line.

He put it down again.

‘I can’t stay here,’ he said aloud, as if someone could hear him.

Jack turned around and walked outside, closing the door behind him.

For a moment he just stood there, trying to breathe and not run. There was nowhere to run to, even if he tried.

He thrust his hands in his pockets and walked round to the garden. There was a wooden bench under a small tree. He sat down and closed his eyes.

This was all wrong. He shouldn’t be here. What was he doing, inheriting a farm from a man who’d been nothing more than a sperm donor? He had no connection to this past, this house or this island at all, and especially not to the stranger who had died and left him this white elephant.

You could have told me something about him, Mum, he thought. Something that I could have connected to. Perhaps she’d meant to, when he got older. ‘Too late, Mum. Too late.’

Jack groaned. He should be in London right now, working in the restaurant, prepping food and doing what he loved. Instead he was sitting like an idiot on a bench under a tree, talking to his dead mother.

He looked up at the leafy branches. He didn’t even know the name of the tree.

All of a sudden the absurdity of the situation caught up with him and he burst out laughing.

***

Ninni flipped over another burger. Around her, music filled the night air. Alma’s husband, Jens, had brought his accordion and Olav and Sigrid played flutes. It had been a hot day, and the heat still lingered in the air.

She sighed with contentment, feeling her shoulders sinking. All the fuss earlier in the day, all the speeches about the constitution, the wreath at the memorial for the fallen soldiers, the children’s parade and all the rest were over. It was time to simply enjoy the evening.

Everyone had gathered on the pier and for once it wasn’t raining. The wind was mild and filled with the promise of summer. It would be bathing weather any time now. Not many 17th of May’s came with sunshine and clear skies. On the island, May usually was a wet and windy month. This year it was so warm everything had turned green three weeks ahead of schedule. It would be unsettling if they didn’t enjoy it so much.

Ninni handed out burgers to anyone passing by. There was no need to take money; people put it in the tin by the table and somehow that always covered the costs.

Alma found her through the crowd. ‘Why isn’t anyone helping you?’

‘When I’m fed up I’ll just leave and someone else will take over. It’s a miracle,’ Ninni said, smiling at her.

‘Have you seen him?’ Alma stretched her neck towards the north path.