Alma gave her a quick hug. ‘Be nice to the boy. At least for the time being.’

Ninni watched her make her way towards the harbour. She turned and headed home. Be nice to the boy? she thought. ‘I’ll bet someone said that to Mata Hari once too,’ she muttered.

Chapter 8

Early in the morning a couple of days later, Ninni rigged up a table in the garden. The old cherry tree showed promise; there were lots of tiny pink buds on the branches.

She scratched Frikk under his chin. ‘I think we’ll stay until autumn this time. No need to go home, now that Karl is out of the picture, is there?’

It felt good saying it aloud – so good. From now on she would remember that feeling.

Frikk slipped under the table and fell asleep. Dogs were lucky, she thought as she put the computer in the shadow and the stack of reference books on one of the chairs next to her. She had coffee in the thermos and sandwiches on a plate, and a beautiful view to distract her.

Time to get some work done. She placed her mobile next to the computer. Her father hadn’t responded to the text she’d sent him earlier, but he would at some point. She wondered how he would react to the news about Jack.

She opened the computer and was soon immersed in a contract between two oil companies. The thermos was almost empty when Frikk started barking and almost toppled the table as he shot out from under it.

Ninni turned around and discovered Jack standing outside the fence.

‘You are really good at concentrating,’ he said. ‘I’ve been standing here for five minutes.’

‘No, you haven’t. Frikk reacted the moment you got close,’ she said and grabbed the dog by the collar. ‘Shush, Frikk. You are scaring the nice man. You know him now. Jack is a friend.’

‘I’ve come to ask you a favour.’ He held up a carrier bag as if that explained everything.

Ninni remembered Alma’s plea to treat him nicely. ‘Of course, come in.’

Jack climbed over the low fence and walked towards her. Frikk sat up, ears perked and tail hitting the ground. Jack stopped. ‘We have exchanged paws, buddy, so be nice.’

He patted Frikk on the head and got a lick back.

‘Sit down,’ Ninni said.

Jack sat down on the only available chair. ‘I’m sorry, I just realised that you are working. Do you hold regular office hours out here?’

‘No, nothing regular. I work when I want to. Work shouldn’t be stressful,’ Ninni said.

He seemed amused. ‘I have never quite thought about it in that manner.’

‘Then maybe you are in the wrong line of work?’ Something about him made Ninni want to tease him.

‘I love cooking, so I don’t think so.’

Ninni shrugged. ‘To be a chef in a Michelin-star restaurant has to be stressful. All that pressure to cook perfectly, every time you go into a kitchen? It sounds like a nightmare.’