She found him in the thicket, whimpering.

***

Jack looked at the translation app on his phone and swore to himself. ‘Bloody useless thing,’ he grumbled. After the meeting tomorrow, he would find a bookshop and buy the biggest dictionary he could find.

The notebook from his grandmother was difficult to translate. He couldn’t find the words on the app. Grandmother, he thought. That was a strange word. He had never called anyone Nana or Granny. Holly and Danny called their grandmother Granny. He never did, despite the fact that she was the nicest of the lot.

Most of Paul’s family regarded him as an intruder, and treated him as such. It didn’t bother him now, but it had been hard growing up and seeing how differently they’d treated Holly and Danny.

Would Magni have been nice – given him cookies when he came to visit, always remembered his birthday? Perhaps. Petter had said she’d wanted grandchildren and that she’d loved her son. Chances were she would have loved him too.

He smiled, a bit sad at the thought. They’d never got the chance, any of them. It didn’t really matter now, did it? They were both dead.

Jack shook his head. Good Lord, if he wasn’t sitting there, feeling sorry for himself. He stood up so abruptly that the chair almost tipped over.

Better go outside, clear my head instead of sitting here feeling sorry for myself, he thought.

He grabbed a raincoat from one of the pegs, pulled on the wellingtons and headed out. Before leaving, he hesitated then grabbed the phone as well. Just in case he got in the mood to call someone that mattered.

Outside, he looked up at the grey sky. The rain seemed to come in bursts. Not so pleasant now, he thought, but it was a relief after all the hot weather.

On the field, Olav’s hesjer looked miserable. It took him a few seconds to see that they were covered in plastic or some kind of tarp. Obviously Jens’ weather reports worked. He hadn’t even noticed they were there, putting it up.

He closed the door behind him and shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked up towards Ninni’s house, and realised she wasn’t at home. The windows were dark.

No point in knocking on her door then. He had to admit he was disappointed. That kiss showed promise.

Instead of going up to the road, he decided to go to the beach, to get a proper view of the storm. If that was even what it was. The islanders probably called this a drizzle.

He turned around and started walking towards the boathouses. When he got closer, he realised someone was there.

The outside light on Ninni’s boathouse was on, and he could see her getting ready to get into the boat. The boat jumped and dipped, as if it was trying to get onto dry land.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ he called out.

Ninni looked at him and he could see the desperation in her eyes. Jack was suddenly worried. ‘What’s going on?’