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‘No,’ replied Thóra curtly. ‘That’s all.’ She smirked at Gudni as she thought about what she and Bella had managed to dig up. Several old poetry books bound in leather, an old-fashioned copper compass and gold coins that didn’t appear to come from any particular country. Before she handed these things over, she wanted to check whether they could conjure something useful out of Magnus. The evidence was starting to point ominously towards the old fishing tycoon.

‘Adolf, the only thing that could justify your continuing existence on the planet would be if you started breathing carbon dioxide and exhaling oxygen.’ The woman’s anger was written all over her face, although her sadness was even clearer.‘You know my opinion of you and that’s not going to change, so we shouldn’t waste time arguing.’

Adolf looked at the mother of his child, saying nothing. He wanted to make some retort, something that would sting her, but couldn’t think of anything clever. He could tell her she looked knackered and ask if she’d looked in the mirror today, but that was too feeble. Sometimes it was best to keep quiet and settle for a dirty look, which he was rather good at. He didn’t even need to try; the expression crept over his face automatically as soon as she sat down and started talking. He shouldn’t have opened the door when he saw who it was. He didn’t own a car, so she could have concluded that he wasn’t at home and left. Adolf couldn’t bear her, or the guilt she always tried to make him feel on the rare occasions they talked. It wasn’t his damn fault she’d got pregnant. If he’d had any inkling that would happen after their long-ago one- night stand, he would have stayed home that night. He only vaguely remembered the night they had made Tinna, that’s how unexciting the sex had been. He’d had better sex with women who were barely conscious.

‘Are you even listening to me?’she said, shooting him a dirty look of her own. ‘I want you to talk to Tinna’s psychiatrist. He wants to meet you, but you’re not returning his calls. You wouldn’t be doing this for me, if that’s what’s stopping you.’

‘What the hell am I meant to say to him? If Tinna’s in some kind of trouble, it’s your fault. You raised her.’ Adolf shrugged to show how little this affected him.‘And what genius came up with the idea of sending her to a shrink? There’s nothing wrong with her that a good meal wouldn’t fix. You’d be better off giving her something to eat, so maybe you should rethink your cooking. It’s hardly surprising she doesn’t want to eat, because you can’t cook for shit.’ He actually had no idea what kind of cook she was.

‘I always knew you weren’t that bright, but I hadn’t realized you were retarded,’ said the woman, her face flushed. She had clenched her hands into fists. ‘Do you know anything about this disease? Have you taken the time to go online and read about what’s killing your daughter?’

‘It’s all rubbish,’ said Adolf, feeling his voice deepen to a rumble as it always did when he was very angry. ‘Everyone knows the system wants to make out kids have all got something wrong with them. They’re diagnosed with attention deficit disorder, hyperactive disorder, God knows what else, just so the therapists can rake it in. Tinna is skinny because she doesn’t eat enough. Maybe you let her watch too much TV and read about too many models in magazines.’

She sighed. ‘Will you talk to this man, for your daughter, or not?’ She stood up from her armchair and looked around. The look on her face now beat Adolf’s dirty look hands down.‘I seriously doubt any good will come of it, so I don’t give a shit what you do. At least I can tell the doctor with a clean conscience that I told you to call him.’

‘What does he want me to say?’said Adolf, suddenly disappointed that she was leaving. It had been a long time since he’d had a visitor, though he hadn’t given it much thought.

His friends had made themselves scarcer and scarcer as his trial date drew closer. They didn’t want to be seen being friends with a rapist. Adolf didn’t like this, but he did understand. He would do exactly the same in their shoes. ‘Do you want some coffee? I’ve got coffee. If you want.’

She looked at him in surprise. ‘No, no thanks.’ She adjusted her handbag on her shoulder and shifted the weight of her slender body onto one foot. ‘Will you talk to him?’ she repeated.

Adolf shrugged again and looked away from her to the sofa in front of him. ‘If I knew what I was supposed to say, of course I would do it. But I still don’t understand what good it would do.’

‘I don’t know what he wants to talk to you about,’ she said, and he could hear exhaustion in her voice.‘If you’re worried he’ll start psychoanalyzing you, you can relax. As far as I know he’s simply trying to get a more complete picture of what’s going on.’

‘A complete picture?’ asked Adolf, who was having trouble understanding this. Suddenly he wanted to please her and say yes, say he would call the doctor. Still, he didn’t want to go. He didn’t understand the purpose of this and he didn’t like psychiatrists, psychologists, any of that lot. Specialists always confused him and he felt uncomfortable around them.

She looked at him expectantly, obviously keen to get going. Adolf suddenly saw through her: she wanted him to say no, and not go. Then she could continue to be the martyr, the poor single mother with the sick daughter who received no assistance or understanding from the child’s dastardly father. She cleared her throat nervously as she realized he’d figured her out. Or maybe it was just tiredness and resignation he saw in her eyes. ‘A complete picture of Tinna’s life, who she was before this disease took over,’ she said. ‘If it helps, I’ve met this man more than once and he’s very decent, so it’s no hardship at all talking to him. They think Tinna’s illness is worse than they had previously realised – that underlying it is a much more serious mental condition.’She looked at Adolf for a moment before zipping up her plain, inexpensive jacket. ‘This doctor can answer your questions about her eating disorder and the other illness, if you have any. It’s helped me a lot.’

Adolf nodded, pondering his response. He didn’t believe in this eating disorder, nor this new illness for that matter. He looked at the mother of his child: her face was so drawn and haggard that she looked much older than she was, but no one said she was ill. Tinna had simply inherited her mother’s build, and besides she was obviously impressionable. There were often articles in the paper about how much influence skinny models and actresses had on girls, and Tinna had just fallen under the spell of that body image. When she grew up she would get over it and put on a bit of weight. ‘I don’t have any questions about this disease,’ he said. He hadn’t planned to say it so sarcastically, but it came out like that.

‘She’s very ill,’ said the woman dejectedly. ‘And you’re a fool, Adolf; a total fool, if you can’t see it.’

He was furious. She was always like this. Nothing was ever good enough for her; all he ever got from her was disapproval and moral lectures. He was a fool, and six was an angel in human form.‘You must be a fool yourself, leaving my daughter in the hands of the system for no reason. You’re the fool, not me.’

She looked at him for a few long seconds. For a moment Adolf thought she might cry, but instead she shook her head in a kind of surrender and waved her hand half-heartedly. ‘I’m going.’She turned and walked away slowly, without looking back.

Adolf stood up and followed her. He had got the last word, but it still felt like she’d won. It was unbearable: he needed every tiny victory he could get before the trial if he wanted to get through it in one piece. ‘So, you admit you’re the stupid one?’ he said as she reached the door. He would have liked her to be in more of a rush, and felt again as if she were asserting her superiority through her relaxed pace.