Erlendur looked at Eva Lind.

“It was like he’d gone straight to God. I was found. I was found and I survived and I lost him. I couldn’t tell them a thing. Couldn’t say where I’d been when I lost him. Couldn’t see out of my eyes for that bloody blizzard. I was ten years old and almost frozen to death and couldn’t tell them a thing. They mounted a search party and people combed the moor carrying lamps from dawn to dark for days on end, shouting for him and prodding the snow with sticks, and they split up and took dogs and we could hear the shouts and the barking, but nothing happened. Never.

“He was never found.

“Then in the ward here I met a woman who said she had a message for me from the boy in the blizzard. And she said it wasn’t my fault and I had nothing to fear. What does it mean? I don’t believe in that sort of thing, but what am I supposed to think? All my life it’s been my fault, although I’m well aware, and have been for a long time, that I was too young to shoulder any blame. But the guilt torments you like a cancer that eventually kills you.

“Because that was no ordinary boy I lost my grip on.

“Because the boy in the blizzard… was my brother.”

Their mother slammed the door on the cold autumn wind and in the dim light of the kitchen she could see Grimur sitting opposite Simon at the table. She could not see Grimur’s face clearly. This was the first time she had seen him since he had been led away, but as soon as she sensed his presence in the house and saw him again in the twilight, fear enveloped her. She had been expecting him all autumn, but she did not know exactly when he would be released. When she saw Tomas running up to her she realised at once what had happened.

Simon did not dare move, but, keeping his back rigid, he turned his head to look in the direction of the front door and saw his mother staring at them. She had let go of Tomas, who sneaked into the passage where Mikkelina was standing. She saw the terror in Simon’s eyes.

Grimur sat on the kitchen chair and made no sign of moving. Several moments passed and the only sounds to be heard were the howling of the wind and their mother panting for breath after running up the hill. Her fear of Grimur, which had diminished since the spring, erupted again with full force and in an instant she was back to her old state. As if nothing had happened all the while he was away. Her legs went weak, the ache gnawed harder and harder at her stomach, her expression lost its newfound dignity, she hunched up, made herself as small as she could. Submissive. Obedient. Ready for the worst.

The children saw the change that came over her as she stood in the kitchen doorway.

“Simon and I were having a talk,” Grimur said, thrusting his head back into the light to reveal his burn. Their mother flinched when she looked him in the face and saw the glaring red scar. She opened her mouth as if to speak or scream, but nothing came out and she stared at Grimur, dumbstruck.

“Don’t you think it’s pretty?’’ he said.

There was something strange about Grimur. Something that Simon couldn’t quite pin down. More self-confident. More smug. He was a tyrant, that was obvious from his whole attitude towards his family and always had been, but there was something else, something dangerous, and Simon was wondering what it could be when Grimur stood up from the table.

He walked over to the children’s mother.

“Simon told me about the soldier called Dave who brings fish here.”

Their mother said nothing.

“It was a soldier called Dave who did this to me,” he said, pointing to his scar. “I can’t open my eye properly because he thought it was all right to throw coffee over me. First he heated it in a jug until it was so hot that he had to hold it with a cloth, and when I thought he was going to pour a cup for us, he emptied the jug over my face.”

Their mother averted her glance from Grimur to the floor, but did not move.

“They let him in when my hands were handcuffed behind my back. I think they knew what he was going to do.”

He walked menacingly towards Mikkelina and Tomas in the passageway. Simon sat at the table as if nailed to his seat. Grimur turned back to their mother and walked over to her.

“It was like they were rewarding him,” he said. “Do you know why?”

“No,” their mother said in a low voice.

“No,” Grimur mimicked her. “Too busy fucking him.”

He smiled.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he turns up floating in the lake. As if he’d fallen in the water fishing for trout.”

Grimur stood right up close to their mother and roughly placed his hand on her stomach.

“Do you reckon he left something behind?” he asked in a quiet, threatening voice. “Something from the picnics down by the lake? Do you think so? Do you reckon he left something? I can tell you that if he’s left anything, I’ll kill it. Who knows, I might burn it, like he burned my face.”

“Don’t talk like that,” their mother said.

Grimur looked at her.

“How did that bastard know we were pilfering?” he asked. “Who do you suppose told him what we were doing? Do you know anything about that? Maybe we weren’t careful enough. Maybe he saw us. Or maybe he gave someone some trout and saw all the stuff in here, wondered where it came from and asked the little tart who lives here if she knew.”

Grimur tightened his grip on her stomach.

“You can’t look at a uniform without dropping your knickers.”

Silently, Simon stood up behind his father.

“What do you say to a cup of coffee?” Grimur said to the children’s mother. “What do you say to some piping hot, refreshing coffee for breakfast? If Dave lets us. Do you reckon he’ll let us?”

Grimur laughed.

“Maybe he’ll have a drop with us. Are you expecting him? Do you think he’ll come and rescue you?”

“Don’t,” Simon said behind him.

Grimur released his grip on their mother and turned to Simon.

“Don’t do that,” Simon said.

“Simon!” his mother snapped. “Stop it!”

“Leave Mum alone,” Simon said in a trembling voice.

Grimur turned back to their mother. Mikkelina and Tomas watched from the passage. He leaned over to her and whispered in her ear.

“Maybe you’ll just go missing one day like Benjamin’s girlfriend.”

Their mother watched Grimur, ready for an attack that she knew could not be avoided.

“What do you know about that?” she asked.

“People disappear. All kinds of people. Posh people too. So scum like you can go missing. Who’d ask about you? Unless your mother from the Gasworks is looking for you. Do you think she might be?”

“Leave her alone,” Simon said, still standing by the kitchen table.

“Simon?” Grimur said. “I thought we were friends. You and me and Tomas.”

“Leave her alone,” Simon said. “You have to stop hurting her. You have to stop it and go away. Go away and never come back.”

Grimur had walked up to him and stared at him as if he were a total stranger.

“I’ve been away. I was away for six months and this is the welcome I get. The missus shagging soldiers and little Simon wants to throw his dad out. Are you big enough to handle your dad, Simon? Do you think so? Do you reckon you’ll ever be big enough to fight me?”

“Simon!” his mother said. “It’s all right. Take Tomas and Mikkelina down to Gufunes and wait for me there. Do you hear, Simon? Do as you’re told.”

Grimur grinned in Simon’s face.

“And now the missus is running the whole show. What does she think she is? Funny how everyone’s changed in this short time.”

Grimur looked down the passage to the rooms.

“And what about the freak? Is the cripple going to answer back too? Da, da, da, da, that fucking cripple that I should have strangled years ago. Is this all the thanks I get? Is this my thanks?” he shouted down the passage.