‘You’re not the only one starving.’ Jack inspected the cupboards to see what kind of pots or pans, if any, were available to him. Not very impressive, he thought. But not unexpected. It was a vet’s surgery, not a culinary school.

‘You know, we can just order something. There are fast food places in this town, most of them quite decent.’ Ninni nodded towards the wall where different menus were tacked to a cork board.

‘No, I think we need proper food to cheer us up. Especially as we’re going to be here all night.’

He put on his rain jacket again. Ninni looked at him, a small smile showing on her face. ‘Are you really going out like that?’

Jack looked down at the short trousers and wet socks. ‘I have wellingtons. Would anyone care about my fashion choices, do you think?’

‘In this weather? Probably not.’ Ninni looked at him. ‘Thank you for coming. I don’t think I would have managed alone.’

‘I’m glad to be of help,’ Jack said.

For a moment their eyes locked and then she looked away. Jack cleared his throat. ‘Well, is there anything you prefer? Of food, I mean.’

Ninni shook her head. ‘Anything will be fine. I’ll go and sit with Frikk while you’re gone.’

Jack got the keys to the surgery from the desk and walked outside. It was still pouring down so he pulled his hood up. There was hardly anyone outside.

Sensible people, he thought.

He quickly found the shop and felt a lot better when he discovered they also sold socks and underwear. After a moment of hesitation, he bought some for Ninni as well, in two different sizes to be on the safe side.

A quick tour through the supermarket left him wondering. Why did they have such a limited variety of produce? The prices were a good indication. He shook his head. Some of the basic greens were double the price they were in the UK. No wonder Norwegians ate minimalistic.

In the end, he settled for eggs and flour for the pasta and some tomatoes and basil for the tomato sauce. Onions looked nice, as did the garlic he found in a corner. That should work well, he thought. Easy and quick to make.

He looked for wine, and didn’t find any. Asking one of the assistants granted him raised eyebrows. ‘You have to buy that in Vinmonopolet, but they’re closed now. We don’t even sell beer now. It’s after eight.’

‘What’s Vinmonopolet?’ Jack was sure he hadn’t heard that before.

‘They are the only shops where you can buy alcohol. Unless you go to a bar or a pub, but you can’t buy any bottles from there and take them with you.’ The shop assistant grinned, obviously pleased by the confused foreigner. ‘A bit different from where you live, I guess.’

‘Yes, I would say so.’

Jack wondered how people lived without the basics. He refused to make tomato sauce without a drop of red wine. So carbonara it was, he thought. ‘I’ll be right back.’