Karen watches her mother with a smile. Eleanor Eiken, née Wood, three-fourths British and Scandinavian for the rest. As the daughter of a provincial doctor from Ravenby, she had probably never imagined the tribulations that lay in wait for her when she decided to marry Walter Eiken. And yet, Karen had never once heard her complain about her life as a fisherman’s wife in Langevik. Eleanor had stoically endured the cleaning of fish and mending of seal-chewed nets. Neither autumn storms, icy winters, poor catches nor constant worry about the family’s finances had prompted any expression of despondency. But the few years spent with Walter’s paternal family up on Noorö had apparently been more than she could take.

‘I’ll send Aunt Ingeborg your love and let her know you’d love for her to visit you in Spain,’ Karen says with a wide grin.

‘Don’t you dare! When are you leaving?’

Karen pushes down the contents of the bag and closes the zipper.

‘Tomorrow morning, before you wake up. But let’s go downstairs and enjoy what’s left of Christmas.’

*

Several hours later, after one last cigarette, Karen pulls the front door shut and glances up at the clock to discover she won’t get many hours of sleep. Her mother and Harry went upstairs almost an hour ago and Karen fervently hopes they’re asleep by now. Leo, Eirik and Kore have retired to the annexe, but she can still hear faint voices and music coming from there.

She hangs up her coat, walks over to the sink and drinks a glass of water. Before turning off the kitchen light, she pops her head into the living room. The sound of even breathing and snoring in two different keys can be heard from the sofa. Sigrid has managed to persuade Marike to share the small space and is now paying the price in the form of a pair of feet with red toenails poking her in the back of her neck.

Karen lingers in the doorway for a moment before pushing the door closed. Carefully, so as not to wake anyone, she tiptoes up the creaking staircase.

Chapter 6

6

Karen Eiken Hornby glances down at the dashboard and turns onto the motorway. Quarter to seven, an hour later than planned, but the extra sleep has made her feel surprisingly rested. The roads are dry after a week of mild weather, and this early on Boxing Day there’s not going to be any traffic. Unless there’s a long wait for the ferry in Thorsvik, she should be able to reach Lysvik on Noorö in time.