Lars plumps down in the armchair and disappears in its embrace, becomes conscious of how small he is and jumps up again. Magnus sits down in his place, he is a much better fit, and says that in that case they will have to move the furniture into the quay house and keep it there until the buildings are finished; it is meant as a joke, but Hanna and Selma exchange glances and one of the twins asks her mother where they are going to live.

“With us,” Ingrid replies, turns to Arne and tells him to assemble the boys and go with her.

Back at the house, she takes three burned loaves from the oven, scrapes off the black bits, places them upside down on the table to cool, opens the window and tells Jørgen to fetch the cart. They carry out the two chests and wheel them down to the quay in two trips. There are clothes and cutlery and kitchen utensils in the chest for the Skarsvåg brothers, as well as all the tools and equipment Ingrid can spare, and there are only clothes in the one she sends down with Benjamin and Jørgen. They are also given a rug each, the eight old sheepskins she had left in the barn, a few blankets, some bed linen and the clothes they are wearing, plus the new boots with the soles made from the rubber on the tyres of the German gun carriages.

On the quay, she shouts down to Ole to send the winch hook back up.

From the armchair where he is still sitting Magnus asks what she is doing, there is a bottle of aquavit on one dining table and a circle of small glasses, the others have sat down as though waiting to be served. Ingrid tells him he will have six passengers on his voyage north.

“Who?” Magnus says, getting up.

“You know them,” she says.

He lets his eyes wander sceptically over his young travelling companions, smiles when he sees Jørgen and shakes his hand, Benjamin gets a nod and the three brothers one to share.

“I’m going south.”

“You’d better drop them off on the mainland then,” Ingrid says. “They’re going north.”

Magnus puts his hands on his hips, looks out to sea and bites his lower lip, glances down at Ole, who gazes enquiringly up at him, and at length manages a nod. Ole stands behind the levers and once again lowers the hook to the quay.

“You called me a bitch last time we were together,” Ingrid says as they watch Great-grandfather Barrøy’s chest swing into place in the hold.

“Yes, and I meant it,” Magnus says.

They smile.