It was pretty clear that was what she was angling for. That was the reason she had been calling and calling. Diana was Susso’s best friend. Had been at least. And a doctor to boot.

But Gudrun was lost in thought.

‘I have thought a lot about that, you know. About love, I guess. The limitless love people have for their children. That you can’t imagine not being together forever. The bedrock of love is that darkness at that distant horizon. It grows out of it. Do you understand what I mean? It’s what makes it strong. The inevitable end. The seconds tick by while we hold each other. All the time, we can hear the seconds ticking by. But we ignore that sound and we don’t talk about the end because it can’t be talked about. We ignore the end. Instead we hold each other, as tightly as we can. While time just slips away.’

Diana wanted to interrupt but couldn’t bring herself to.

‘Your little girl doesn’t know anything yet,’ Gudrun pressed on. ‘She’s too young. Later on, the end will enter her life and reshape her, from the bottom up. Which is terrible when you think about it. You’re a child and life is wonderful, and one day Mummy and Daddy lean over you and tell you you’re going to die, but before you die, we’re going to die and leave you all alone. It’s like one of those permanent residence permits that is suddenly swapped for a temporary one. What a cruel system. Though I can’t think of a better alternative. It comes out wrong no matter what you do.’

‘It sounds like maybe you should go talk to someone,’ Diana said. ‘Would you like me to set something up?’

‘Talking. According to Roland, that’s all I ever do.’

‘I meant to a psychologist. A therapist. Being cut off from your child, like you are from Susso, from both of your children in a way, because Cilla’s not quite herself either from what I hear, must be incredibly hard.’

‘There’s nothing I can do. That’s the worst part.’

‘Do you have her address?’

‘I don’t know that I do, but I can give you directions.’

‘Give me directions,’ Diana said and pulled out her phone.

‘When you reach Vittangi, you turn left, no, right, why am I saying left? You go toward Pajala. Past the lake with that fountain or whatever it is. Then you carry on for a mile or two until you see a big, red barn with three green doors on your left; that’s why I said left. Before you pass that barn, you turn off on a smaller road that takes you down to the river. That’s where she lives. In a red house. By the river.’

‘Right, then left before a barn with three green doors.’

Gudrun nodded.