He hands me one of Mormor’s flowery blue china cups, the ones she keeps for special occasions. I try not to let it bother me, but it does. Stig points at the chair opposite and I gesture for him to sit.

‘So how come you have nowhere to go?’ I ask.

Stig shifts in his seat. ‘My stepfather. Everyone must see things his way. I didn’t.’

‘Do you live on the island?’

He shakes his head. ‘Oslo.’

‘That’s miles away. How did you end up here?’

‘I came to Skjebne for a holiday with my dad once.’ A shadow of sadness crosses his face. He pulls his coat around him, then shrugs and adds, ‘It seemed a nice place.’

I sip my coffee. It doesn’t taste like Mormor’s. I used to think it was funny how she mixed the coffee grounds with egg, but she was right. It does make it taste less bitter.

Stig raises an eyebrow. ‘No good?’

‘No egg,’ I mutter, then bite my thumbnail. A habit from childhood I should have outgrown, according to my mum. ‘So you didn’t know anyone, or have anywhere to stay?’

‘I had six thousand Kroner, enough to stay at the hotel on the harbour, but someone stole my wallet while I was asleep on the ferry. I didn’t realise until I got off.’

His eyes are the palest blue, made even more startling by the black eyeliner. He holds my gaze, his face seemingly earnest, but what do I know? Maybe he was robbed, or maybe he came here to rob Mormor.

‘So what made you choose this place to break into?’

Stig lowers his eyes to the table. ‘I heard some women at the harbour talking about a lady who lived alone by the forest. They said she had died in her sleep, and had left a note saying she wanted her cabin kept stocked with food, ready for her daughter to visit. The other said the daughter knew about the funeral but wasn’t coming.’

The blood drains from my head, making me feel sick. Mum knew Mormor had died! She knew about the funeral! Stig carries on talking but my mind is spinning so much I barely hear him. When was Mum planning to tell me exactly? Burning Mormor’s letters is one thing, but how could she betray me like that?

Stig mumbles into his coffee. ‘I walked up to the forest and found the cabin.’

My fists clench. ‘So you just broke in?’

He swallows and licks his lips. ‘The door was open. I only meant to stay for one night, but when no one came …’

‘You made yourself at home.’

He lowers his head. ‘I’m sorry.’