‘It’s on land. I’m sure I’ll be fine.’

He watched her as she manoeuvred the boat closer to the small pier. She grabbed hold of one of the pier posts to keep the boat steady. ‘Can you get up?’

Jack discovered a makeshift stepladder on the side. It didn’t look trustworthy.

It was clearly a challenge. Jack stood, carefully so as not to lose balance, and grabbed hold of the pier. The wood was dry and crumbly underneath his fingers. The boat wobbled underneath his feet. He managed to get one foot on the ladder, hoisting himself up on the pier. He couldn’t help feeling pleased and smiled at her.

‘Can I have my life jacket back, please?’ Ninni stood up in the boat too, holding out her hand. Her balance was perfect.

Jack pulled it off and handed it to her. ‘Thank you for taking me out there. I needed to see for myself that the animals were okay. And real,’ he said.

Ninni laughed. ‘Any time. You know where to find me. I mean, if you want to see the sheep again.’

She pushed off and the boat floated away. Then she started the engine. She waved at him and then turned the boat around. The sound from the engine overpowered the dog’s barking.

Jack stood up, relieved to be on solid ground again, even if it was a half rotten old pier. He walked over to the smokehouse, surprised to find it unlocked and curious as to what he would find. Hopefully not a slaughterhouse of some sort.

It was dark and cold inside, and he left the door open behind him. The smell of burnt wood was sharp, but not unpleasant. Across from the door he spotted an oven of sorts, built into the wall. There were pipes going from the oven through the wall. From the ceiling an assortment of hooks made him feel a bit uneasy.

Jack fumbled at the wall next to the door and found the light switch. He turned it on and a single bulb lit up the room. Agnar wasn’t much for lighting, he thought.

He walked over to the oven and inspected it. It was built with slabs of grey stone, carefully put on top of each other, making it look like a dome with two doors in it. He was curious and opened it. Inside, it was black with soot. He touched it and his fingertips turned black.

‘Brilliant,’ he said.

He wondered how it worked. Olav or any of the others would know. Maybe Ninni. She seemed to know everything about everything on the island, yet she didn’t really live there. He wondered about her story. She seemed happy enough, but there was something guarded in her eyes.

On the way to stabburet, he stopped at the house to pick up the keys. He almost stepped on a box of eggs, placed on top of the steps.

Jack looked around. There wasn’t anyone there, nor was there any sign of where they’d come from. He picked up the box and brought it into the kitchen. The eggs seemed fresh. A welcoming gift? He hoped so. He left the box on the counter and went outside again.