I pinched his cheek and tried to lift his mouth into a smile. His skin was warm and soft, his fluffy beard neatly groomed.
‘Nope. I’m not sold. But if pinching’s your kink, I’ll bear it in mind.’
Henrik slowed down and finally turned off the road we’d been on for an hour. It felt like we were driving into nowhere as we followed the track up a snowy hill towards a smattering of cabins, his Tonka truck tyres and chains working hard.
‘Here we are,’ Henrik said, revving the bus up the final part of the drive and parking next to a battered old Volvo. It was a relief when he switched off the engine; I’d been half worried we might have to get out and push. ‘Remember, you’re the ears. I’ll do the talking.’
‘Charming.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just anxious it goes well.’
‘It will! They’re your family.’
We were barely out of the van when a willowy, silver-haired lady came rushing over.
‘Henny!’ She hugged him, a torrent of Norwegian pouring out.
‘Hei, Nina. This is Sara. She’s English.’
‘Ahhh, well then we speak in English. Hello, Sara. My godson has an eye for a beautiful woman.’
‘Oh, thank you.’ I blushed as she hugged me, unsure of whether to correct her.
‘Just a friend,’ Henrik said and Nina nodded, clearly unconvinced.
‘Come in, come in,’ she said, putting an arm around each of us. ‘I want to hearallyour news. I’ve made us atroikakake.’
‘My favourite,’ Henrik said.
‘Chocolate cake,’ she mouthed, shooting me a wink.
This woman couldn’t possibly be planning to ruin Tore’s life – she baked cakes! I was desperate to get inside and warm up, but the cabin didn’t feel much different to being outside so I kept my coat on.
‘Now, let me look at you.’
‘Where’s Bjorn?’
‘He’s here,’ a gruff voice shouted down the corridor. ‘How’s my favourite godson?’ Bjorn was wearing an oversized knitted cardigan in a similar style to Nina’s, plodding slowly towards us with a stick. He stopped when he saw me. ‘Oh! A new girlfriend at last!’
‘Not quite. This is Sara, she’s one of the guests at Firefly.’
Bjorn frowned. ‘Are we part of the retreat programme now?’
‘She’s also a lawyer,’ Henrik said quietly.
Nina jumped up and scurried off into the miniature kitchen as Bjorn harumphed his way into the chair by the fire. ‘I see. And do we need a lawyer present as well?’
‘I hope not. Sara’s notourlawyer; she’s not representing us.’
‘I’m just here as ears,’ I said. Henrik gave me a look. ‘I mean, to listen.’
‘Ideally we’ll figure this out by talking it through,’ Henrik said. ‘And bywe, I mean me,Pappa, Jonas and you. Both of you.’
I glanced around at them all. This conversation needed professional mediation.
‘Anyone for cake?!’ Nina hurried over with a tray of coffees and a raspberry-covered chocolate cake, then busied herself handing out cups and fussing over the milk and sugar. She danced around getting everyone sorted, until eventually therewas nothing left to do but sit down. ‘So!’ she said, awkwardly. ‘How have you all been?’
‘Not great, to be honest.Pappa’sworried sick.’
