By the time the plane landed at Keflavík, it was snowing quite steadily. Nick knew Iceland from a half-term trip to see the Northern Lights five years previously, so the bleakness of the landscape was no surprise, nor the fickleness of the weather. He and Kate hadn’t seen any lights in the sky beyond the street lamps of Reykjavík, although she’d fallen in love with the Blue Lagoon and Nick had enjoyed exploring Icelandic art.

They’d hired a car on that trip, but Nick didn’t anticipate needing to leave Reykjavík, so he took the transfer bus into the city. He’d stayed with Kate in some luxury at the Borg, but he’d settled this time for a cheaper hotel, the Foss, at the eastern end of the city centre.

The snow hadn’t settled in Reykjavík, but still it was much more like winter than spring when he left the Foss shortly after checking in and headed along Laugavegur for a first look at the building where the Emergence auction was to be held on Wednesday.

It covered a wide street frontage and had probably once been a large shop. The high windows had been tricked out with modish tinting since then. There were three floors and a basement, with little sign of activity beyond the ground floor, which proclaimed itself to be an art gallery called Aldrei Ađur – helpfully translated on the door as the Never Before Gallery.

Nick went in, passing a broad staircase leading to the upper floors across which a velvet rope had been strung bearing a bilingual STAFF ONLY sign. He was greeted in the gallery itself by a willowy young Icelandic blonde who’d have fitted right in as a gallerina in London’s West End. She handed him a catalogue for the exhibition. The artist had a Spanish name: Elena Herrera. Nick had never heard of her.

‘You’re not a showcase for homegrown talent, then?’ he remarked casually.

‘Our mission is to promote Reykjavík as a showcase for world talent,’ came the cool reply.

‘Who owns the gallery?’

‘The Quartizon Foundation.’

‘And who owns them?’

‘This will explain the foundation’s work.’ She handed him a pamphlet printed on expensively milled paper. ‘Enjoy the paintings.’

‘Thank you.’

He moved on past her and did his best impression of someone earnestly studying the pictures and the biographical notes on the artist. The paintings were small but luminous. Despite their modest size, they were best appreciated from a distance. To his surprise, Nick liked them rather a lot. Perhaps the Quartizon Foundation was a good judge of artistic ability.