Jack looked at it and frowned. Fedra. Yeah, he was not talking to her. He wasn’t talking to any of them. Without hesitation, he muted the phone. She immediately texted him.

Where are you? Don’t be a child. Pick up the phone. I want it back! You bastard thief!

Jack grinned and looked up at the tree. It had small knots of fruit all over the branches. What was that? Pears or apples? He had no idea. Some farmer I’d be, he thought.

***

Later that afternoon, Ninni climbed up the stairs to Jens and Alma’s house. The main entrance was at the back, with the shop on the ground floor.

The door was open. Most people never locked their doors.

‘Hello?’

No response, but she heard voices. She kicked off her shoes in the hall and walked in.

Jens sat by the living room door and smiled when she popped her head in. ‘We are having a serious discussion about what to do about the Englishman who is roaming the island,’ he whispered.

‘Why?’ Ninni had received a text, telling her to be at the meeting, but it didn’t say for what reason. ‘Did he do something?’

‘Turns out he inherited the place,’ Jens whispered.

‘What?’ Ninni wasn’t sure if he was joking.

Jens winked at her, then lifted a finger to point at his wife.

Alma sat in the recliner on the other side of the room, with a cup of coffee in her hand. ‘He’s not roaming the island. He’s an imposter, for God’s sake. It’s clear as day.’

Ninni looked around the room. Those present formed the island’s council. Although the total population was barely over a hundred people, the island governed itself.

She smiled at the school teacher, Britt, who beamed back at her. Olav and Sigrid sat close together on the sofa, and on the other side was the third farmer on the island, Tobben. He nodded at her too, looking grim.

Jens made room for her next to him. ‘We have waffles,’ he said, pointing at the table.

A lot more than waffles; there were also biscuits and one of Alma’s pound cakes. Lemon, Ninni guessed.

‘Jens, please. We’re not having a coffee party,’ Alma said.

Ninni sat down next to Jens and looked at Alma. ‘Why do you think Jack is an imposter?’

‘Isn’t it obvious? How else can he claim to be the owner of Agnar’s farm?’ Alma said.

Everyone stared blankly at her. She shook her head, exasperated at their thickness. ‘He somehow got wind of Agnar’s death and thinks he can make a fortune selling the land before anyone discovers he’s a criminal. He’s stealing a dead man’s property.’

‘That sounds highly improbable. For one, it would take an enormous amount of planning,’ Britt said.

‘Not if he’s in cahoots with Haldorsen,’ Alma said with a grim smile. ‘Haldorsen probably has done all the planning and then hired this man to play a role. Perhaps he’s an actor of sorts. It’s possible.’