‘I told him he’d kill someone if he carried on like this. And what happened? He almost killed someone.’

I watched as Clive poured himself a large whisky, and by large I mean half a pint.

‘Drink, Sophie?’ he said.

I shook my head. He was acting a little unhinged.

‘I’ll pour you one anyway,’ he said, pouring me my own half pint. ‘We all need a drink after what happened today. Even the babies.’ He looked up. ‘I’m kidding.’

I sat down beside Maren. She was trembling and openly smoking in the kitchen, which I’d never seen her do, but after what happened with Dag I could well understand.

‘Are you all right?’ I said. She nodded but didn’t meet my eye.

‘Is Dag going to be OK?’ I asked in a mousey voice.

Clive rested his hands on the back of the chair, still too agitated to sit down. He gave a faint nod. ‘He made it through surgery. But I’d say he’s light years from OK.’

The chaos of the afternoon had sent an electrical charge through the house and through the woods. First the shouting, then everyone running in and out of the house. I hurried into the kitchen to find blood all over the floor. Then the helicopter came. Amidst all of this I’d been unable to prevent Gaia from seeing the blood smeared across the floor. I mopped it up and tried to convince her it was paint, but she still caught wind of Dag being taken to hospital. She had met Dag. Apparently he had taught her a couple of tricks and she had a soft spot for him, as had Aurelia. Gaia was devastated to know he was injured and I had to lie to her and say he was fine, that it was just a cut.

Even though I hadn’t witnessed the accident I couldn’t stop shaking. I learned from Clive that Dag had had an accident with the drill. He had momentarily taken his hands off the handle and the thing had shot upwards, hitting his head and knocking him into the air. The force was equivalent to being slammed by a small car. But apparently no one knew why the drill had done that. It had all kinds of safety devices to stop it from moving, and Clive had had a heated discussion down the phone with someone about faulty equipment.

‘I’m suing, do you hear me?’ he’d shouted, loud enough to be heard all the way in Oslo. ‘Suing!’