'She's… do you know her then? What's all this panic about?'
'What does she look like?' Erlendur repeated, trying to keep calm.
'Take it easy.'
'How old is she?'
'Seventyish. No, maybe more like 80. Difficult to say.'
'What's she wearing?'
'She's got on a long green coat, ankle-length. A lady of about my height. And she's lame.'
'In what way, lame?'
'She's limping. More than that really. She's sort of, I don't know…'
'What?! What! What are you trying to say?'
'I don't know how to describe it… I… it's like she's crooked.'
Erlendur threw down the phone and ran out into the spring evening, forgetting to tell Skarphedinn to keep the lady on the hill there with him at all costs.
The day that Grimur returned home, Dave had not been with them for several days.
Autumn had arrived with a piercing north wind and a thin blanket of snow on the ground. The hill stood high above sea level and winter came earlier there than in the lowland, where Reykjavik was beginning to take on some kind of urban shape. Simon and Tomas took the school bus to Reykjavik in the mornings and came back in the evening. Every day their mother walked to Gufunes, where she tended the milk cows and did other routine farm work. She left before the boys, but was always back when they returned from school. Mikkelina stayed at home during the day, excruciatingly bored by her solitude. When her mother came home from work Mikkelina could hardly control herself for glee, and her delight was all the greater when Simon and Tomas burst in and threw their school books into one corner.
Dave was a regular visitor to their home. Their mother and Dave found it increasingly easy to understand each other, and they sat at length at the kitchen table, wanting the boys and Mikkelina to leave them in peace. Occasionally, when they wanted to be left entirely to themselves, they went into the bedroom and closed the door.
Simon sometimes saw Dave stroke his mother's cheek or sweep back a lock of hair if one fell across her face. Or he stroked her hand. They went on long walks around Reynisvatn and up the surrounding hills, and some days even strolled over to Mosfellsdalur and Helgufoss, taking food with them because such an outing could last a whole day. Sometimes they took the children along and Dave carried Mikkelina on his back without the slightest effort. Simon and Tomas were amused that he called their outings a 'picnic', and they clucked the word at each other: pic-nic, pic-nic, pic-nic.
Sometimes Dave and their mother sat talking seriously, on their picnics or at the kitchen table, and in the bedroom once when Simon opened the door. They were sitting on the edge of the bed, Dave was holding her hand and they looked over to the door and gave Simon a smile. He did not know what they were talking about, but he knew it could not be pleasant, because he recognised his mother's expression when she felt bad.
And then, one cold autumn day, it all ended.
Grimur came home early one morning when their mother had gone to the farm and Simon and Tomas were on their way to take the school bus. It was piercing cold on the hill and they met Grimur as he walked up the track to the house, clutching his tattered jacket close to him to fend off the north wind. He ignored them. They could not see his face clearly in the dim autumn morning, but Simon imagined he wore a hard, cold expression as he headed towards their house. The boys had been expecting him for the past few days. Their mother had told them he would be released from prison after serving his sentence and would come back to the hill to them; they could expect him at any time.
Simon and Tomas watched Grimur walk up to the house, and looked at each other. Both were thinking the same thing. Mikkelina was home alone. She always woke up when they and their mother got up, but went back to sleep for much of the morning. She would be alone to greet Grimur. Simon tried to calculate their father's reaction when he discovered that their mother was not at home, nor the boys, only Mikkelina, whom he had always hated.
The school bus arrived and beeped twice. Although the driver saw the boys on the hill, when he could not wait for them any longer he drove away and the bus disappeared down the road. They stood motionless, not saying a word, then set off slowly and inched their way towards the house.
They did not want to leave Mikkelina at home by herself.
Simon contemplated running after his mother or sending Tomas to fetch her, but told himself that there was no hurry for them to meet again; their mother could have this last day of peace. The boys saw Grimur enter the house and close the door behind him, and they broke into a run. They did not know what to expect inside the house. All they thought about was Mikkelina asleep in the double bed where she must not be found under any circumstances.
Cautiously opening the door, they crept inside: Simon leading the way but Tomas close behind, holding his hand. When they went into the kitchen they saw Grimur standing at the worktop. He had his back turned to them. Sniffed and spat into the sink. He had turned on the light over the table and they could see only his outline beyond it.
'Where's your mother?' he said, his back still turned.
Simon thought that he had noticed them on the way up the hill after all and heard them enter the house.
'She's working,' Simon said.
'Working? Where's she working?' Grimur said.
'At Gufunes dairy,' Simon said.
'Didn't she know I was coming today?' Grimur turned round to face them and stepped into the light. The brothers stared at him as he emerged from the darkness and their eyes turned like saucers when they saw his face in the dull glow. Something had happened to Grimur. Along one of his cheeks, a burn mark stretched all the way up to his eye, which was half closed because his eyelid had fused with the skin.
Grimur smiled.
'Doesn't Dad look pretty?'
The brothers stared at his disfigured face.
'First they make you coffee, then they throw it in your face.'
He moved closer to them.
'Not because they want you to confess. They know it all already because someone's told them. That's not why they throw boiling coffee over you. That's not why they destroy your face.'
The boys did not understand what was going on.
'Fetch your mother,' Grimur ordered, looking at Tomas, who was cowering behind his brother. 'Go to that fucking cow shop and bring the cow back.'
Out of the corner of his eye Simon saw a movement in the bedroom, but he did not dare for the life of him to look inside. Mikkelina was up and about. She was able to stand on one leg and could move about if she supported herself, but she did not risk going into the kitchen.
'Out!' Grimur shouted. 'Now!'
Tomas jumped. Simon was uncertain that his brother would find the way. Tomas had been to the farm with his mother once or twice in the summer, but it was darker and colder outside now and Tomas was still very much a child.
'I'll go,' Simon said.
'You're not bloody going anywhere,' Grimur snarled. 'Piss off!' he shouted at Tomas, who staggered away from behind Simon, opened the door into the cold air and closed it carefully behind him.
'Come on, Simon my boy, come and sit down with me,' Grimur said, his rage seeming suddenly to have vanished.
Simon fumbled his way into the kitchen and sat on a chair. He saw a movement in the bedroom again. He hoped Mikkelina would not come out. There was a pantry in the passageway and he thought that she could sneak in there without Grimur noticing her.
