Back Wild Shores
Chapters (92)
  1. Cover
  2. Maps
  3. Epigraph
  4. Prologue
  5. Chapter 1
  6. Chapter 2
  7. Chapter 3
  8. Chapter 4
  9. Chapter 5
  10. Chapter 6
  11. Chapter 7
  12. Chapter 8
  13. Chapter 9
  14. Chapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. Chapter 14
  19. Chapter 15
  20. Chapter 16
  21. Chapter 17
  22. Chapter 18
  23. Chapter 19
  24. Chapter 20
  25. Chapter 21
  26. Chapter 22
  27. Chapter 23
  28. Chapter 24
  29. Chapter 25
  30. Chapter 26
  31. Chapter 27
  32. Chapter 28
  33. Chapter 29
  34. Chapter 30
  35. Chapter 31
  36. Chapter 32
  37. Chapter 33
  38. Chapter 34
  39. Chapter 35
  40. Chapter 36
  41. Chapter 37
  42. Chapter 38
  43. Chapter 39
  44. Chapter 40
  45. Chapter 41
  46. Chapter 42
  47. Chapter 43
  48. Chapter 44
  49. Chapter 45
  50. Chapter 46
  51. Chapter 47
  52. Chapter 48
  53. Chapter 49
  54. Chapter 50
  55. Chapter 51
  56. Chapter 52
  57. Chapter 53
  58. Chapter 54
  59. Chapter 55
  60. Chapter 56
  61. Chapter 57
  62. Chapter 58
  63. Chapter 59
  64. Chapter 60
  65. Chapter 61
  66. Chapter 62
  67. Chapter 63
  68. Chapter 64
  69. Chapter 65
  70. Chapter 66
  71. Chapter 67
  72. Chapter 68
  73. Chapter 69
  74. Chapter 70
  75. Chapter 71
  76. Chapter 72
  77. Chapter 73
  78. Chapter 74
  79. Chapter 75
  80. Chapter 76
  81. Chapter 77
  82. Chapter 78
  83. Chapter 79
  84. Chapter 80
  85. Chapter 81
  86. Chapter 82
  87. Chapter 83
  88. Chapter 84
  89. Chapter 85
  90. Chapter 86
  91. Epilogue
  92. About the Author

Skreby grew up around the Firth of Skre, a long arm of the sea that cuts through Noorö’s eastern mountain range along a natural fault line. The village is flanked by Goat Back Mountain in the north and Halfen in the south. And even though the mountains loom ominously over the town, compared to Skalvet on the west coast of the island, they appear no more imposing than two coal piles. Neither one rises more than 1,500 feet above the waves of the North Sea, while the highest peak in the Skalvet range is over 4,000 feet.

Karen relaxes as she follows Byle’s car and takes the opportunity to study her surroundings. She absently notes that the sun has won its battle against the clouds and is infusing the December scene with a golden glow. They pass sleepy barns, frozen pastures, fallow fields and a petrol station.

As soon as they turn off the highway and onto Skrebyvägen, the farms become more numerous: cottages with narrow strips of land that once yielded a complementary source of food and income for beach fishermen and people who didn’t own a boat, plots that were primarily farmed by women while their men – the men who only had tiny anchors on their graves – were at sea, toiling aboard other men’s ships.

The road gradually takes on the appearance of a traditional village high street, with simple terraced houses from the 1920s and 1930s on either side, built during the golden age of coal mining. Karen glances down the seemingly deserted side streets. Half the houses are probably empty, she thinks and feels a pang of melancholy as she studies the stillness. There’s something heavy and hopeless about the soot-stained houses. Granted, Noorö has always been the most sparsely populated island in the Doggerian archipelago, but she can’t remember it ever being this desolate, not even on Boxing Day.

Rural flight. This is what it looks like, she thinks to herself. Unlike on more urbanised Heimö and picturesque Frisel, where the population decline has been successfully reversed in recent years and where Doggerian expats from Scandinavia, the UK and the continent are now settling once more, on Noorö, the trend has been the opposite.