Ingrid knows that Abelsen lives on the southern tip of the main island, but enquires nonetheless, and for the last time hears this voice that has lost all authority. Henriksen says how the hell should I know, and Ingrid, who has wished death and agony on him for the past six months, decides that he is already dead, or at least in such a bad way that he is beginning to arouse her sympathy, so she sticks the card down her dress and hurries out.

He calls after them, saying he has saved her life, she has to testify for him . . .

Ingrid walks back down to the village, past the auction and into the store, where Margot is nowhere to be seen, but one of her assistants tells her that Motor Markus, which has become her son’s name in the course of the past year, has been sent away, they say for good, so if Ingrid wants a lift she will have to go with the dairy van, which in truth is more like a tractor, and Ingrid still doesn’t tell Arne what she is up to, nor does he enquire, and Fredrik doesn’t care, he asks if they can have some sweets, there are some gumdrops and chocolate buttons in the glass jars over there on the counter.

Ingrid says no.

Then she pauses and asks whether he has ever eaten chocolate.

He says, yes, lots of times.

She asks when.

He seems to be looking for an answer that will appease her, and Ingrid lets the matter drop.

*

Jakob Abelsen in Finnvika is old, he is a widower, has fished from rowing boats with both Ingrid’s father and grandfather and remembers them and the fishing banks so well that he can’t stop himself rambling on about them as soon as he sees her. With him on the well-run farm – which has as many as six farmhands – lives a middle-aged maid, who seems to have plans to become the woman of the house, unless she already is so. The two young boys from the galley on the Salthammer are planting potatoes in a newly ploughed field and Jadviga is reclining in a rocking chair in the sunlight streaming through a large parlour window. She is sleeping peacefully with her mouth open, and wakes as the maid places a hand on her knee and tells her they have visitors, she asks if they would like some coffee?

Ingrid says yes.

It takes time for Jadviga to come round, and the coffee is on the table before Ingrid can find the sheet of paper and place it in Jadviga’s lap, the page from the sketch pad with three identical verses in one single column. Jadviga holds it at a good distance from her eyes, squints and smiles, her whole face a mass of white wrinkles.

“It says I love you.”

She runs a thick, deformed nail down over the lines and says: “Nine times.”