‘Grete’s going to take good care of the boy. No one’s going to find him odd in any way. He’s going to be fine there. And you and Fanny, you can start a new life.’

The young man stared at his burger.

‘Let me see your ear.’

‘What?’

‘Let me see your ear.’

Elias lifted the ring dangling in his earlobe.

‘Fuck,’ Lennart exclaimed, ‘there’s a hole through your ear. Like an African chieftain. Have you seen it on TV? How big is it?’

‘Eight millimetres.’

‘Fuck.’

Elias took another bite and Lennart watched him eat. Then he put his hand on the table and tapped his knuckles against it until the young man realised he was trying to get his attention. He opened his hand like a lid; crouched underneath it was a wood mouse. It raised its nose and long whiskers in the air and ran over to the edge of the cardboard container where the golden-brown potatoes glistened with salt. The dejected look vanished instantly from the young man’s face.

‘Do you think he’s hungry?’

Lennart shrugged. Then he turned to the window, through which two surprised faces were staring. The women on the other side of the glass ogled the little creature sitting on their table. Lennart glowered at them until they resumed their meal. Elias had torn off a flake of meat from his burger and was trying to feed it to the mouse; Lennart walked away.

The little boy was sitting with the black straps of the car seat harness over his shoulders, examining a bunch of keys. Jabbing it with his sock mitten. The window was half open and he could hear the kid’s loud mouth-breathing and the jangling of the keys.

*

‘She lives down by the river,’ Abraham said, ‘about a mile from the village, and there are no neighbours.’

‘Are we going to put her in here?’ Lennart said. ‘Because she can’t go in the van.’

‘Don’t you think it would be okay if Fanny’s there?’

‘I don’t know,’ Grete said. ‘Who knows what might happen in that dark van on the way up to Finnmark? It’s a long drive. A lot could happen. It might end in a drama triangle, the consequences of which we can’t imagine. At least Fanny has a measure of control over him.’

‘Then I guess she’s going in the boot,’ Abraham said. He was holding a drinking cup and amusing himself by pulling his straw up and down through the hole to make a squeaking sound.

‘Yes,’ Grete said with a nod, ‘I think that’s for the best.’