She killed the engine and sat in the car, looking at the front door for a minute, listening to the engine tick and wondering where the Passat in the street opposite had come from. Gunna closed her eyes and felt the tension of the last two days drain away. She thought about Sunna María, flustered and distraught, while Jóhann’s world had collapsed around him over a few long days of hardship and Bruno Kovalchuk sat silent with his arms folded in the interview room chair, refusing to say anything other than to confirm his name.
Finally Gunna stepped out of the car and her key scraped in the lock of her house. She listened for a moment with the door open a crack and was relieved that there was no sound of voices or small children, although the lack of any cooking smells was a disappointment.
‘Hæ, Mum,’ Gísli said awkwardly from the end of the sofa where Steini normally sat. The book Steini was reading was still open, face-down on the arm of the sofa.
‘Gísli, I didn’t expect to see you here,’ Gunna said. ‘It isn’t that I’m not pleased to see you,’ she added. ‘It’s just a surprise, that’s all. Been to see Drífa and Kjartan, have you?’
‘Well, no.’
He shuffled awkwardly. ‘Laufey’s over there with Drífa at the moment, and I wanted to catch you without anyone else about.’
Gunna’s eyes narrowed. ‘Problem?’
‘No.’ He coughed. ‘Not exactly.’ He gestured to the chair at the far end of the room and Gunna saw a young woman with blonde hair in plaited and beaded cornrows sending her a bright smile.
‘Hi, you’re Gísli’s mum? I’ve heard so much about you.’
Gunna shook the girl’s hand in bemusement.
‘Mum, this is Naomi. She’s from New Zealand.’ He coughed again. ‘I’m thinking of moving there to live with her.’