She wore a thin, purple cardigan he hadn’t seen before. It looked high-end and expensive and smelled of sweet perfume. A curly blonde hair clung to the fuzzy sleeve. He leaned forward and opened the glove compartment, but found nothing to throw up in. It was going to have to be his paper coffee cup. He tore off the lid and regurgitated slimy water that stuck to his lips. Afterwards, he sat holding the cup because he didn’t know what to do with it. Then his window suddenly opened and he threw the cup out.

‘It will pass,’ Stava said.

He wiped his mouth with his hand and nodded. A blue sign appeared. They were almost in Örnsköldsvik. The effort of throwing up had filled his eyes with tears that he now wiped away.

‘Did you go through this too?’

‘I’ve seen others go through it.’

‘And they were normal afterwards?’

The word made her smile.

‘Remember me telling you about Mauri?’

‘Was he the one who shot himself?’

‘That you remember.’

‘Yes, because I feel a bit like I’ve taken his place.’

She picked something out of her mouth and inspected it before flicking it off her fingers.

‘I see,’ she said. ‘So you think I’m cheap.’

‘No, it’s just how I feel.’

‘You should know, Anders, that you’re special.’

‘No, I’m not.’

‘Ransu could have bonded with your colleague, that Norwegian man. But he didn’t. He chose you.’

‘Wasn’t that just random?’

‘You belong together, and that bond is forever.’

‘But what about you. You belong together too, don’t you?’

‘That’s different.’

‘Because you’re a woman?’

‘I’m not a woman, Anders.’

‘Of course you’re a woman.’

‘Am I?’

‘Of course you are. What else would you be?’

When I entered the kitchen that morning…

When I entered the kitchen that morning, Roland was sitting there with the newspaper open in front of him. But he wasn’t looking at the paper, he was looking at me, and he was very clearly trying to get a read on me. My entire body ached, but I didn’t let on because I had no desire to be interrogated. I poured myself coffee and sat down. Glanced at the headlines.

‘Any news?’ he said; I shook my head.

He closed the paper.

‘They must have gone somewhere on a whim,’ he said, ‘over to Narvik or something. Like a fun getaway. After all these years.’

He stood up, refilled his coffee cup and sat back down.

‘I don’t understand what’s with you,’ he said. ‘They’re fine and on their way home. And here you are, moping around.’

‘Yes, I know. I should be happy.’

‘I don’t know about happy, but you should breathe a sigh of relief at least. Not heaving dark sighs of anxiety. You were tossing and turning all night. And sighing. And sighing.’

‘I couldn’t sleep.’