Yrsa Sigurdardottir - Someone to Watch Over Me

Now it was Thóra’s turn to be silent. Neither Einvarður nor Fanndís had mentioned this; if anything, they’d implied that Tryggvi had made no progress. Sometimes what was left unsaid had the most significance. Given how concerned they’d been about their son’s development, it was extremely odd – and even odder to hear that they had actually paid attention to the complaints to such an extent. Might it not have been possible to tone down the screaming and conduct the therapy in a quieter manner? ‘So if he’d started to open up, would he have been a lot more likely than before to leave his own apartment? Was he perhaps even capable of roaming around at night?’

‘Maybe, yes.’

For once, the weather was glorious. Nevertheless, Thóra was thankful to be wearing a coat long enough to protect her bottom from the cold plastic benches in the stands. Out on the AstroTurf, Sóley ran around with the rest of the team, none of them showing any sign of following either the rules or the ball, which as a result was nearly always on their half of the pitch. This practice match had been set up at short notice and Thóra thought the coach had probably decided the cold conditions might benefit his team, allowing them to lose by fewer points than usual or even to manage a draw. This was rather optimistic, particularly in light of the fact that there was no risk of the team’s opponents mixing up the goals or losing sight of the ball in a flurry of snow.

‘Turn around, Sóley! Wrong way!’ called Matthew, cupping his hands around his mouth. Sóley stopped, turned to them and waved, smiling. As she did so, a group of girls ran past her after the ball. ‘She’s getting better,’ he said to Thóra, somewhat unconvincingly.

‘Isn’t it bad for the pitch to let them play in winter?’ Thóra knew less about football than Sóley, but she did know the pitch was new and she didn’t want the 6th Girls’ Division damaging it if they were only going to lose.

‘They’re so light it hardly makes any difference,’ Matthew replied. To further emphasize their minuscule stature, they were playing against a backdrop of the magnificent sparkling sea on the other side of the pitch and the Reykjanes mountain range. ‘Go on, Sóley! Go on!’ Again Thóra’s daughter stopped to wave; the game was forgotten, and had been lost long ago.

‘It might not be a good idea to encourage her.’ Thóra glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes left. ‘It looks to me like her concentration can’t handle it.’ Her phone rang in her coat pocket and Thóra took it out. She didn’t recognize the number but the voice was familiar. It was Grímheiður, Jakob’s mother. At first Thóra seriously regretted answering, preferring not to let work interrupt her on the weekends, but after she’d spoken to the woman, she felt differently. She thanked Grímheiður and said goodbye.

‘What is it?’ Matthew was startled when he saw Thóra’s expression.

‘Jakob is being moved from Sogn. He was taken to the National Hospital with serious injuries last night, and underwent surgery on his eye.’

Matthew turned back to the match. ‘What happened?’

‘Jósteinn attacked him. With a knife and fork in the middle of their meal. He’ll be lucky to keep his eye, and he has multiple other wounds, so I’m told.’

This was enough to draw Matthew’s attention away from the ball. ‘What? I thought Jósteinn was his benefactor or something? Isn’t he paying for the investigation because he likes Jakob so much? Were they fighting about something?’

‘No, not as far as I understand. The attack was completely unprovoked, according to Jakob’s mother.’ Thóra put the phone back in her pocket. It was clear that this attack would have a decisive effect on the issue of reopening the case; surely Jósteinn was unlikely to continue paying for the investigation after what had just happened. ‘I really don’t know why I’m surprised. The man is ill, capable of anything, and I should probably be grateful that I didn’t leave my meeting with him with a fork in my temple or something.’

Matthew wasn’t amused. ‘That’s enough of that kind of talk.’

Thóra ignored him. She had no desire for any further communication with Jósteinn, but it was an interesting development nonetheless, and her desire to get Jakob out of Sogn was now quite strong. She knew it was dangerous to think this way; she mustn’t become emotionally attached to the case. That would increase the risk of her missing something, or simply ignoring anything that didn’t suit her. But unfortunately it wasn’t always possible to control one’s emotions, and it was simply impossible not to care at all about Jakob. ‘I don’t know, maybe I should go and see him in hospital. Take him some flowers or chocolates.’

Matthew shrugged and turned back to the match again. ‘Would you be allowed? Won’t he be under police supervision?’

‘I think I would, given my involvement in his case.’

‘Then you’d better hurry up, because you won’t be in that position for much longer. Surely Jósteinn will stop paying for the investigation, now that their friendship has soured.’ Matthew suddenly sounded rather angry. ‘I don’t understand why you’re taking on cases like this, anyway. There’s loads of work around for lawyers; masses of it, dealing with money – nice, harmless paper-based transactions, even if their origins might be ugly.’

‘That kind of work is all allocated through nepotism; and in any case, we can barely compete with the big firms, who have loads of specialized lawyers on their payrolls.’ She neglected to add the most important reason: that she found financial claims and business law indescribably boring, and even Bragi, who generally managed to find something interesting in all his cases, was unlikely to be persuaded away from the divorce cases he loved so much. ‘I’m continuing with this case, unless Jósteinn stops paying. It’s caught my attention, and it’s not as though we’re suddenly drowning in work. We could use the income, even though the case might turn out to be less weighty than it seems.’

‘The bank got in touch and offered me my job back.’ Matthew didn’t look away from the pitch as he said this. ‘Albeit at lower wages, since the scope of the role is only a fraction of what it used to be.’

‘That’s great!’ Thóra leaned into him. ‘Aren’t you happy?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘When did they ask you?’

‘The day before yesterday.’

‘And you waited to tell me because…?’ Thóra moved away from him again, glad she hadn’t yet made an appointment for that wax.

‘I don’t know exactly. I needed time to think about it and I had to do that alone. On the surface it might look like a good offer, but I need to think it over carefully.’ He turned and looked her in the eye. ‘It would have confused me to discuss it with you. It’s nothing to do with you personally, it’s me. I’ve never found these sorts of things easy. I feel better when the answers are clear in my mind – yes or no – and when I don’t need to think about it any further.’

Thóra nodded slowly. ‘I understand.’ She felt bad about how put out she sounded; it wasn’t as if he were confessing to an affair or telling her he’d squandered their money on slot machines or Icelandic stocks. ‘So what have you decided, since you’ve now told me about it?’

‘Nothing. I’m still thinking.’ Sóley and her team were still running around on the pitch, apparently entirely unconcerned that their opponents’ score made it look more like a volleyball match. They celebrated enthusiastically when they managed, coincidentally, to kick the ball in the direction of their opponents’ goal. The ball rolled slowly into the penalty area and the other team watched this unexpected development in amazement until the goalkeeper strolled out onto the pitch and grabbed it. The few spectators applauded as if a goal had actually been scored. Matthew clapped along loudly, and when the applause died out he added: ‘I probably will take the job, even though I really don’t want to go back to that office.’