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did not like it being upside down. Although Ejvor did not seem to mind. From time to time a sticky little sound came from her direction as she licked the tip of her index finger and thumb and turned the pages of the newspaper. Apart from that the only sound was the hum of the heater.
    Above the double doors of the barn, beside a row of reindeer antlers growing out of the wall, a huge lamp was mounted on a curved metal pole. Many years ago he and Börje had plundered a lamp from a pole brought down by the wind along the road to Nalovardo. Börje made sure the lamp was switched off during theday because it drew a lot of power. But it was on now. That said something about how stressed Börje must have been when he set off. Snowflakes lit up as they floated past the lamp, and Seved was staring at these slowly descending sparks when Ejvor put down the newspaper.
    â€˜Don’t I get a cup?’ she asked.
    â€˜I didn’t think you wanted one,’ he said, and pushed back his chair.
    â€˜I could have a small one.’
    He took down a cup and saucer from the cupboard above the draining board, placed it in front of her on the table and poured. From the shiny silver spout came coffee and spiralling steam.
    â€˜That’s enough,’ she said, raising her hand.
    He sat down and cradled his cup.
    Now was a good time to talk to her. It seemed she was not in too much of a bad mood.
    In a confused memory from the early-morning hours he remembered hearing a diesel engine idling for what seemed like an eternity. Car doors slamming. Börje’s loud commands, Signe’s muttering. A dog barking.
    There was a clock on the wall above the Christmas decoration with little dancing elves that Ejvor had put up, and when he looked he saw it was getting on for eleven.
    He cleared his throat.
    â€˜When did they go?’
    Ejvor sipped her coffee, then put her cup down gently on the saucer, like she always did, so there was no sound.
    â€˜Yes, when was it? They went for the Isuzu too,’ she said. ‘Not upside down but on its side, so I think it must have been about seven by the time they left.’
    â€˜They made a hell of a noise. It was about three, I think.’
    She turned the pages of the paper and then put it down on the table, looking at him.
    â€˜And one of the dogs,’ she said. ‘That small bitch. They had fun with her, throwing her up onto the barn roof. She just stood there, barking and barking, and couldn’t get down, and Börje and I were too frightened to go outside, so she was up there for at least a couple of hours, poor little mite. She was scared out of her wits.’
    Seved leaned forwards to look at the far end of the barn roof. Naturally there was no trace left of the dog, at least nothing that could be seen from this distance.
    â€˜They’ve never done that before, have they? Had a go at the dogs?’
    Ejvor licked her finger and turned a page before answering.
    â€˜Once, in the seventies,’ she said. ‘They got into the enclosure and killed every single dog. Tore them to shreds, as if they wanted to find out how many pieces you can split a dog into. It looked like a slaughterhouse when I came out in the morning. Eleven dogs, and three of them pups. I cried like a baby when I saw it.’
    It took a while for Seved to absorb what she had told him—she had told him!—and he felt his mouth go dry.
    â€˜You never said.’
    â€˜Well, it’s so unusual.’
    She did not want to say more. Sharp lines had stitched her lips together. But even so he tried.
    â€˜Why? What caused it?’
    â€˜It was all four of them that time. They got each other worked up. We had to separate them after that.’
    â€˜Because of what happened with the dogs?’
    Her eyes scanned the pages.
    â€˜Among other things.’
    Seved pushed the chair aside and leaned against the window, pulling aside the light-blue viscose curtain that reached all the