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himself.
    He started the day with cereal, ice-cold milk and yesterday’s newspaper. He had started to get used to seeing the papers late, as the morning editions didn’t reach this far-flung fjord until at least midday. Not that it mattered. The rhythm of life was different here, time passed more slowly and there was less bustling hurry than in the city. The papers would be here when they were here.
    He called Kristín and had to wait a moment before she answered.
    ‘Hi, I’m at work, couldn’t get to the phone right away. How are things?’
    ‘Not bad,’ he said and hesitated as he stared out of the kitchen window. There was a thick layer of snow over the town. This was no place for cars other than heavy 4×4s. What you needed here was a good pair of boots, or skis. ‘Any snow where you are? It’s coming down non-stop up here.’
    ‘No, none at all here. Just cold and there’s no wind, but it’s icy underfoot. It looks like it’ll be a snow-free Christmas in Reykjavík. You’ll miss out on all that Christmas snow up north.’
    Ari Thór was silent for a moment as he carefully thought about the words he was going to use.
    Kristín continued, ‘I’ve spoken to Mum and Dad and we’ll have Christmas dinner with them like last year, so we can get away with not buying a Christmas tree, unless you feel like having one at home …’
    ‘Listen… There’s something I need to tell you.’
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘Yes. Tómas had a word with me yesterday, and I have to work a few shifts over Christmas…’
    There was a silence.
    ‘A few?’ Her voice was sharp. ‘Just what does that mean?’
    ‘Well. Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and a couple more days before New Year.’
    The continued silence became deafening.
    ‘So when are you coming south?’
    ‘It’s probably best if I come at the beginning of January when I can get a week off.’
    ‘Next year? You’re joking? You’re not coming for Christmas?’ Her tone was icy, but Kristín didn’t raise her voice. ‘We decided we were going to discuss everything at Christmas, sort out plans for next year. So I’m not going to see you until January? Or maybe even February?’
    ‘I’ll try and come in January. I’m the new man here so it’s not as if I can throw my weight about. I ought to be thankful that I’ve at least got a real career opportunity here.’ He was slightly annoyed, but tried to hide it, not wishing to add to the tension.
    ‘Opportunity? You need to take the blinkers off, Ari Thór … Is this an opportunity to … to build a relationship, or start a family? There are five hundred kilometres between us. Five hundred, Ari Thór.’
    Roughly four hundred, not five hundred, he silently told himself, realising that this wasn’t the time to correct her.
    ‘I can’t do anything about it. The others have both been here longer than I have and they both have families…’ he said, regretting the words the moment he had said them.
    ‘So what? Don’t you have a family in Reykjavík? What about me? And what about my parents?’
    ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
    Silence again.
    ‘I have to go.’ Her voice was lower, with a hint of a sob in it. ‘I have to go. I’m being paged. We’ll talk later.’

9
    She had no idea what his intentions were.
    A terrible foreboding overtook her, thoughts that she dared not think through to their conclusion. Was this a straightforward burglary, or something far worse?
    The idea of ignoring his warning and just screaming, screaming with every ounce of energy in her flashed through her mind, but there were few people about to hear her and there were big gardens separating the houses.
    She was a prisoner of her own prosperity, here in this spacious detached house in a quiet neighbourhood, where people paid to cut themselves off from the world’s problems.
    He was silent, looking around. She didn’t dare speak, and hardly dared look at him. He looked over the living room, saying nothing, and the silence weighed