Mum lowers her voice. ‘It’s too soon, Martha. Besides, you barely know him.’ She sees my face and her voice softens. ‘Look, we’ll talk about it later. We don’t have to decide anything right now.’

I nod, but I’m already thinking about packing up my things in London. Though I’ll miss Stig, I can’t wait to see Kelly. I won’t mention the walking corpse I beheaded, but I know she’ll want to hear all about my boyfriend.

Stig is tending the fire, his back to me. He must be able to hear our conversation, so why isn’t he saying anything? Mum pipes up before I can stop her. ‘So what are your plans, Stig?’ I glare at her, my heart in my mouth.

He turns around and smiles. ‘I need to go to Oslo. Just for a few days. I need to talk to Mum, but then I’m coming back here to look for work.’

My heart falters. If he goes home, does that mean he will see his ex-girlfriend? What if he mentioned her name because he’s still in love with her? The words slip out before I can stop myself. ‘Will you see Nina?’

Stig glances anxiously at the window. When he speaks his voice sounds far away. ‘Yes. I need to know if she woke up from the coma.’

Something drops inside me, like a pebble sinking into a well. ‘But before, you said that she –’

He forces a smile. ‘I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.’

Stig walks over and lays a hand on my shoulder, and part of me wants to flinch from his touch. He smiles into my eyes and I feel the brush of his coat sleeve. Anger, hatred and jealousy burn into me, followed by love and kindness. The same emotions I felt before, in the woodshed. I thought it was his dad I was picking up, but what if …

‘Martha?’

Stig looks at me expectantly. How can I doubt him, after all we’ve been through?

I grab the journals from the table, happy to find an excuse to leave the room. ‘I’m going to put these back.’

Hugging the books to myself, I watch Stig wander over to the fire. He sits on the floor, then takes out his phone and grins, and I wonder who has messaged him. Or maybe he’s looking at photos. When I turn back, Mum gives me a suspicious look. Ignoring her raised eyebrows, I head to Mormor’s room and shut the door.

27

I drop the journals on the bed, then stand at the window. Snowflakes swirl together and flutter to the ground. At first just a few, and then the world is disguised by a veil of white. The snow settles quickly, hiding the past with a fresh layer of white.