Jack stood outside on the ferry deck, enjoying the sun and the wind on his face. ‘They’re not goats, Dad. They’re sheep.’

‘Yeah, we’re pretty convinced they’re taking the piss, son. I bet they’re laughing their heads off whenever you call those goats sheep.’

Jack thought about Ninni’s grin. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised, but I actually Googled them. They are sheep.’

‘Bugger, Holly’s probably done the same. She tricked me.’

Jack laughed out loud. ‘How much do you owe her?’

‘A fiver. Well, it’s not the first time she’s outfoxed me.’

‘You should have learned by now. She’s smarter than the rest of us put together,’ Jack said.

Paul laughed. ‘So, how are you doing? Are you settling in?’

‘I’m not here on holiday, Dad.’

‘There’s no harm in enjoying yourself, son. How long can you stay until you need to get a new job? Please don’t tell me you’re relying on credit cards.’ Paul sounded stern.

Jack smiled. ‘Of course not. I have my savings, but there’s also quite a bit of money in the estate. I could probably live on this island for a decade on that money alone.’

‘Really? Without working? You’ll be bored out of your mind,’ Paul said, but he couldn’t hide that he was impressed. ‘Sounds like a bloody dream to me.’

‘It’s more than a bit mad, actually,’ Jack said.

He looked up at a pair of seagulls chasing each other across the sky, screaming like banshees. On the deck, a group of kids chased each other too, making almost as much noise as the birds. Nobody seemed to worry about them falling overboard. The parents were leaning against the railing, drinking coffee and watching the scenery.

‘Are you bored yet?’ Paul asked.

‘Not really. Not yet, anyway.’ It made Jack smile.

‘Well, tell me then. How are you spending your days? Are the islanders nice to you?’

Jack sat down on the deck. ‘Yes, Dad, they are. I’ve been invited to a potato-planting party tomorrow.’

‘A potato-planting party? Is this what these people do for fun?’

‘I’m not sure. Ninni said there would be some sort of beach party afterwards. Everybody is bringing food and there’s home-brewed beer.’

‘Scandinavian beer is good. I’ve tasted the Carlsberg. Pilsner, it’s called.’

‘I have no idea what type of beer they’re making, Dad. It could be dreadful.’

‘Bring a bottle when you come home, but only if it’s good.’

‘I’ll have to taste it first.’

‘So, who is Ninni? Some elderly neighbour who feels sorry for you?’

‘No, I wouldn’t call her elderly,’ Jack said.

‘Oh? Who is she?’

‘She’s the closest neighbour to the farm. She lives in Bergen, has a dog and she’s the one who took me to see the sheep.’

‘And how old is she?’

‘She’s about my age, and I’m not Danny, so lay off,’ Jack said, laughing.

Paul snorted. ‘You kids are so secretive all the time. I bet she’s gorgeous.’

He wasn’t wrong, Jack thought. But he had no intention of discussing her with him. ‘How are Danny and Holly?’