just want to try and ask around discreetly?’
Helgi thought. The idea of going to Tunga wasn’t an appealing one and he had put off thinking about it.
‘I’d best go and talk to them. Kjartan will undoubtedly have passed on the news that he’s being watched. If he didn’t have such a copper-bottomed alibi, he’d be my number one suspect. But it’s not our only line of enquiry. Gunna’s chasing up other people in the city. It seems there’s no shortage of people that Borgar Jónsson pissed off, so we’re spoilt for choice at the moment.’
He picked up the two empty glasses and Anna Björg took them from him. ‘My turn. Want me to go out to Tunga with you in the morning?’
‘I’m sure you have enough to be getting on with, don’t you?’
She shrugged as she stood up. ‘Up to you. Let me know tomorrow. I’ve no objection to a little drive out into the country and a look at Össur’s stable while you have a friendly chat with Reynir,’ she said, turning and departing for the bar where this time the receptionist appeared as if she had been called and had already started pouring two more beers.
‘Staying with Rúna, are you?’ Anna Björg asked as she placed the glasses on the table and sat down.
‘No. Here,’ he said, looking around the otherwise deserted bar. ‘I was going to stay with Rúna. But, you know . . . Big sister doesn’t have a lot of space in that little house and as it’s work, the taxpayer is putting me up in the town’s finest hotel.’
Anna Björg’s eyes twinkled. ‘Careful, Helgi. A married man on his own in a busy nightspot like this. That could mean trouble.’
‘It’s an entirely fair division of labour,’ Gunna explained to her pouting daughter, Laufey. ‘Steini cooked. I’ve washed, dried and folded two loads of clothes – mostly yours, I’d like to point out. So we’ve come to a unanimous decision that loading the dishwasher is all yours.’
‘But . . .’
‘There’s no room for a “but” anywhere in this discussion.’
‘I wasn’t consulted on this,’ Laufey argued. ‘So I feel that I should have the right to lodge an objection and go and watch TV while this goes to arbitration, surely? Isn’t that the way it works?’
‘Ah. You may be under the illusion that this household in some way resembles a democracy. I’m sorry to disappoint, but that’s not the way it works.’
‘Then I’ll start a grassroots movement and protest against the shameless use of forced labour. Steini, are you with me on this?’ Laufey asked hopefully, and Steini looked up from skimming that morning’s paper.
‘I think it’s probably best not to stray into dangerous territory here,’ he decided.
‘Where does all this revolutionary fervour come from, anyway?’ Gunna asked.
‘We’ve been doing it in history, and Ylfa talked about the pots and pans revolution as well.’
‘That’s hardly history. It was only a couple of years ago.’
‘But it brought down the government. The only time an Icelandic government has been forced out of office by a popular movement.’
Steini stroked his moustache and looked at her quizzically. ‘I must say I rather like the sound of this teacher. But does the council know that a secondary school teacher is preaching revolution to fifteen-year-olds?’
‘She’s the new teacher at the school,’ Gunna told him. ‘A decent enough girl, but she might want to tone the radical stuff down if she wants a full-time job next term. Anyhow, back to the thorny issue of loading the dishwasher.’
‘Yes, Mum?’
‘If you’d just done it instead of arguing, you would have finished by now.’
Laufey thought for a moment. ‘Which would have been a victory for the forces of international capitalism,’ she said.
‘Right, in that case,’ Gunna decided, hearing her phone ringing and hunting for it through the pockets of her coat, which hung on the kitchen door, ‘negotiations on getting a lift to Reykjavík on Saturday will only
Helgi thought. The idea of going to Tunga wasn’t an appealing one and he had put off thinking about it.
‘I’d best go and talk to them. Kjartan will undoubtedly have passed on the news that he’s being watched. If he didn’t have such a copper-bottomed alibi, he’d be my number one suspect. But it’s not our only line of enquiry. Gunna’s chasing up other people in the city. It seems there’s no shortage of people that Borgar Jónsson pissed off, so we’re spoilt for choice at the moment.’
He picked up the two empty glasses and Anna Björg took them from him. ‘My turn. Want me to go out to Tunga with you in the morning?’
‘I’m sure you have enough to be getting on with, don’t you?’
She shrugged as she stood up. ‘Up to you. Let me know tomorrow. I’ve no objection to a little drive out into the country and a look at Össur’s stable while you have a friendly chat with Reynir,’ she said, turning and departing for the bar where this time the receptionist appeared as if she had been called and had already started pouring two more beers.
‘Staying with Rúna, are you?’ Anna Björg asked as she placed the glasses on the table and sat down.
‘No. Here,’ he said, looking around the otherwise deserted bar. ‘I was going to stay with Rúna. But, you know . . . Big sister doesn’t have a lot of space in that little house and as it’s work, the taxpayer is putting me up in the town’s finest hotel.’
Anna Björg’s eyes twinkled. ‘Careful, Helgi. A married man on his own in a busy nightspot like this. That could mean trouble.’
‘It’s an entirely fair division of labour,’ Gunna explained to her pouting daughter, Laufey. ‘Steini cooked. I’ve washed, dried and folded two loads of clothes – mostly yours, I’d like to point out. So we’ve come to a unanimous decision that loading the dishwasher is all yours.’
‘But . . .’
‘There’s no room for a “but” anywhere in this discussion.’
‘I wasn’t consulted on this,’ Laufey argued. ‘So I feel that I should have the right to lodge an objection and go and watch TV while this goes to arbitration, surely? Isn’t that the way it works?’
‘Ah. You may be under the illusion that this household in some way resembles a democracy. I’m sorry to disappoint, but that’s not the way it works.’
‘Then I’ll start a grassroots movement and protest against the shameless use of forced labour. Steini, are you with me on this?’ Laufey asked hopefully, and Steini looked up from skimming that morning’s paper.
‘I think it’s probably best not to stray into dangerous territory here,’ he decided.
‘Where does all this revolutionary fervour come from, anyway?’ Gunna asked.
‘We’ve been doing it in history, and Ylfa talked about the pots and pans revolution as well.’
‘That’s hardly history. It was only a couple of years ago.’
‘But it brought down the government. The only time an Icelandic government has been forced out of office by a popular movement.’
Steini stroked his moustache and looked at her quizzically. ‘I must say I rather like the sound of this teacher. But does the council know that a secondary school teacher is preaching revolution to fifteen-year-olds?’
‘She’s the new teacher at the school,’ Gunna told him. ‘A decent enough girl, but she might want to tone the radical stuff down if she wants a full-time job next term. Anyhow, back to the thorny issue of loading the dishwasher.’
‘Yes, Mum?’
‘If you’d just done it instead of arguing, you would have finished by now.’
Laufey thought for a moment. ‘Which would have been a victory for the forces of international capitalism,’ she said.
‘Right, in that case,’ Gunna decided, hearing her phone ringing and hunting for it through the pockets of her coat, which hung on the kitchen door, ‘negotiations on getting a lift to Reykjavík on Saturday will only
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