I feel stupid. Why did I say that? I pick up the fallen journals and grasp them tightly, wishing I had kept quiet. Maybe I should go and sit on the sofa; whatever I say will only make it worse. But I don’t. I gaze at Stig as he slices the bread, watching the movement of his shoulders and the way his hair falls down his back.

A shadow shifts: behind the dresser, in the corner. My throat closes. The darkness is moving, expanding and deflating, like an animal breathing. I watch transfixed, then take several hasty steps back into the living room. The shadows around the dresser are paler now, but the edges of the lounge seem darker, as if whatever it is has crawled along the wall to follow me. I bump into the edge of the sofa, then drop onto it, the books tumbling from my grasp.

Hugging my knees to my chest, I bury my face in my hands. Something nudges me and I nearly jump out of my skin. Stig hands me a plate of sandwiches and puts two cups on the floor. He flops down next to me, then leans over and takes a sandwich from my lap.

I glance behind the sofa. The shadows are moving again – this time by the kitchen table. Stig turns his head to follow my gaze, but then goes back to eating. He doesn’t seem to notice anything. I’m glad. Whatever’s in here with us, it’s not like we can go anywhere. I just have to hope it leaves us alone.

We chew in silence. The only sounds are the hiss and crackle of the fire and the wail of the wind. The journals sit between us on the sofa. Stig glares at them. ‘I think we should burn them.’

I put my hand on them protectively. Despite everything, they are part of my inheritance, part of me. ‘What if they talk about the draugr? Shouldn’t we find out?’

He shoves the books and they fall to the floor. ‘Can’t we talk about something else?’

‘Like what?’

‘Anything! Anything else.’

There are dark circles under his eyes where his eyeliner has smudged. Maybe he wants to talk because he needs to take his mind off things.

‘OK, what do you want to know?’ I sigh.

Stig sips his coffee. ‘I don’t know – what do you like doing?’

I shift in my seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable. ‘I make stuff out of metal.’

‘Great, what kind of stuff?’

I think back to my room and my brooches and necklaces.

‘Jewellery. Spiders and ravens.’

He raises his eyebrows.

I take out my phone and scroll through some photos until I come to a silver pendant shaped like a raven. Stig reaches for the phone and I show it to him, feeling shy.

‘You made that?’

‘Yup.’

‘Wow! That’s amazing.’