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times about it. Now you have a job . . .’
    Samal’s voice trailed away but it left little doubt that he thought Toki blamed me for his friend’s lack of employment. I wouldn’t have minded so much if Toki didn’t give the impression that he could easily pick me up and snap me in two.
    For a while, he wore a path across the wet factory floor as his crate-hauling duties took him directly past me each and every time. He was careless, or more likely aggressive, with his load, charging past me without any care.
    I said nothing. The last thing I needed was unnecessary confrontation or hassle. Not now. This idiot wasn’t going to spoil the good feeling of that first morning. Anything else, I decided, I’d deal with, if and when it happened. As it turned out, he disappeared, either fed up with my refusal to rise to his bait, or simply working elsewhere in the factory. I wasn’t disappointed.
    At lunchtime, I took advantage of a day without rain and ventured outside to take another look at my new surroundings. It also meant I avoided any inquisitive questioning from my workmates. A low profile seemed like a good idea.
    It was a beautiful day. The breeze was light and fresh and there was even something approaching heat emanating from the sun. Kittiwakes flew overhead, their shrill calls the only sound apart from breaking waves and the bleating of a flock of black-and-white sheep as they defied gravity by scampering across an almost vertical hillside. I picked out a grassy spot facing the beguiling basalt stacks of Risen og Kellengin that rose out of the blue swell and sat to eat the sandwiches I’d brought with me – ham, and a cheese that I’d never tasted before – and to enjoy the view.
    I was at the end of the world. A piece of it carved from the dramatic collision of nature.
    There was the sound of footsteps from my right and I looked up to see Martin Hojgaard approaching, sandwiches of his own in hand.
    ‘I can join you?’
    I nodded and waved a hand to the grass beside me. ‘Of course.’
    Hojgaard took a bite out of a sandwich, his face contorting slightly as he chewed. ‘My wife Silja always puts mustard on them. I don’t really like mustard, but I love my wife so I don’t tell her.’
    He nodded in the direction of the stacks. ‘They are interesting, huh?’
    ‘Yeah. It’s an amazing view.’
    Martin nodded. ‘It is easy to forget when you work here every day how special it is. The legend is that the giants in Iceland were jealous of the Faroes and wanted the islands for themselves. So they sent down the giant and the witch who were instructed to take them back with them. They reached the mountain and the giant stayed in the sea while the witch was sent to climb the mountain armed with a heavy rope with which she was to tie the islands together so she could put them onto the giant’s back and he would carry them home. Tying islands is hard work, though, and they toiled through the night and didn’t realize how much time had passed. Of course, even the smallest shaft of sunlight shining on a giant or a witch will turn them to stone. When dawn broke, the sun hit them and they were frozen on the spot. They’ve stood there ever since, staring across the ocean towards Iceland. Now, geologists say that the witch will fall into the sea in the next few decades, brought down by the winter storms. Maybe it will. Who can say for sure? We are talking about a witch, after all.’
    ‘You believe in that?’
    Martin didn’t look at me, but grinned as he continued to look out to sea. ‘Why not? It is a poor country that does not have legends. You have come here to live?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘I wanted to get out of the city and make a new start somewhere not so cluttered with cars. Somewhere I could see the sky and breathe fresh air.’
    ‘But you have such places in Scotland, of course. Your Highlands. Islands too. Why not go there?’
    Caught out. Nailed in one.
    ‘I wanted to go further. Get away from