Summer Island Read online

  ‘I think there are opportunities in change,’ she said.

  Jack leaned back. ‘Who’s the big bad wolf?’

  Britt laughed. ‘Oh, him. Erik Haldorsen. According to Alma, he wants to destroy the island. Meaning, if you sell to him we are doomed and will be thrown off the island half an hour later.’

  She didn’t seem worried. Jack watched her. ‘Doomed, how?’

  ‘Erik is a property developer, an investor. He’s had his eyes on the island for years. He held a town meeting some years back and showed us plans for a wind farm on the west side, a marina right here on your land, and all sorts of other things. We would all be making a fortune from the island, he said.’ She shrugged and smiled a little. ‘Not sure if that’s true, but a little development would be nice.’

  Jack thought about it. ‘You can’t control development. Not once it’s started.’

  ‘I know that, but the fact is we are losing people to the mainland every year. There are no jobs out here, of course. Most people work in the oil industry and if you work in town, commuting is a nightmare in the winter. Geir worked offshore and he got fed up with helicopter trips in midwinter. Now he lives the good life in Oslo, doing God knows what. I couldn’t blame him. It’s bloody dangerous.’

  ‘Are you here because you want me to sell to Haldorsen or to warn me about him?’ Jack pulled the skillet away from the hob.

  Britt smiled. ‘It’s not my business who you choose to sell your farm to, Jack. If it was mine, I’d sell it to the highest bidder in the blink of an eye and move to Hawaii.’

  ‘You really like islands,’ Jack said.

  Britt laughed. ‘Yes, I do. I love the ocean.’

  Jack finished the beer. ‘Listen, I don’t know when I’m selling the farm. I’ve contacted an estate agent and left it up to him. What happens after that is not really my problem, is it?’

  ‘I like your attitude. Perhaps something will change at last.’

  Jack looked at the beer bottle. ‘Why don’t you have a proper restaurant here, on the island?’

  ‘There’s not enough people for it and most Norwegians can’t afford to eat out anyway,’ Britt said with a shrug.

  ‘It would have to be a restaurant people would be willing to travel here for,’ Jack said slowly.

  ‘In that case, the food would have to be bloody sensational,’ Britt said.

  ‘No Old Cheese, you mean?’ Jack looked at the skillet.

  That made her laugh out loud. ‘Yes, no Old Cheese.’

  Jack leaned over the table. ‘But that’s where you’re wrong. If you have the right ingredients and the right chef, you can make people travel. You don’t have to be smack down in the middle of London.’

  Britt grinned. ‘Are you talking about yourself? Would you consider that here?’

  ‘God, no. My whole life is in London. I don’t belong on an island in the middle of nowhere. My family is there, my work.’

  ‘You don’t have a job. I checked you out online. There was an article about you. We all read it,’ Britt said, undaunted.

  ‘Right. Of course you did.’ Even Ninni, he thought.

  ‘It’s what you do these days, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it is.’ He wondered what Ninni thought about it.

  ‘To be honest, there wasn’t that much about you, except that you left your job right before you secured a Michelin star for the restaurant. Did you do that because of the inheritance?’

  Jack laughed. ‘No, not at all. I didn’t know about the farm when that happened. The restaurant owner and I had a difference of opinion. It’s not uncommon in my line of work. Chefs can be temperamental, like all creative people.’

  ‘We saw the photo with the stunning blonde. Is she your girlfriend?’ Britt wasn’t giving up on the questions.

  ‘No, she’s not.’ Jack had no intention of discussing his love life with a strange woman.

  ‘Sorry, I can be too curious at times,’ Britt said and didn’t look the least sorry. ‘It comes from working with kids, I’m afraid.’

  ‘It’s fine. No hearts were broken or anything like that.’

  At least nothing he would talk to anyone about. The whole situation was too embarrassing.

  Britt got up from the chair. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll leave you to your experiments. Are you coming to the potato party tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve never planted a potato in my life. I’m expecting a life-altering experience,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t get your hopes up. Potatoes aren’t really that interesting,’ she said, laughing.

  ‘That depends on how you cook them,’ Jack said.

  Britt nodded towards the pan. ‘Please take that horror with you. I’d love to see Jens’ expression when he sees what you’ve done to his favourite cheese.’

  Jack grinned. ‘That’s my evil plan.’

  ‘Good. He loves giving that cheese to tourists.’

  She left the house laughing.

  ‘I really need a proper lock on the bloody door,’ Jack muttered.

  He took another spoonful from the pan, wondering what he could use it for. The garlic had improved it, but it wasn’t impressive in any way.

  Chapter 10

  It annoyed Ninni that she kept looking towards the road. The gates were closed to prevent animals and children running off.

  She was sitting on the fence watching the donkey trotting around the enclosed paddock with Olav and Sigrid’s five-year-old son clinging to the animal’s back. He was giggling like mad.

  Ninni turned to Sigrid. ‘Aren’t you scared he’s going to fall off?’

  ‘If he does it’s not much of a fall, and besides, he’s got a helmet,’ Sigrid said, clearly not worried.

  ‘I would be terrified,’ Ninni confessed.

  Sigrid laughed. ‘We were with Anja. We sterilised everything and practically wrapped her in bubble wrap from the day we brought her home. Fortunately, Olav’s mum interfered before we broke her.’

  The child in question was balancing on top of the fence, trying to catch cherries in her mouth at the same time.

  ‘She looks fine now,’ Ninni said.

  Sigrid threw a glance at her daughter. ‘Yes, she does. Anja, be careful. I don’t want to take you to the hospital again; we’ll miss the party.’

  Anja gave them a toothy grin. ‘I’m just seeing how many cherries I can catch, Mamma.’

  ‘Do it on the ground, darling. You’re freaking Ninni out.’

  Anja jumped down at once, and Ninni breathed a little easier.

  ‘Look at those idiots.’ Sigrid nodded towards the barn. Half the roof had caved in during the winter, and was now covered with a huge tarp.

  Olav and Tobben were manoeuvring an old harrow through the door. ‘They insist that’s going to make it easier to plant. Seems to me that’s an awful lot of work for making something easy,’ Sigrid said.

  It was fun to watch, though, the men heaving and muttering, and using lots of words little ears probably shouldn’t hear.

  ‘They’ll give up soon enough,’ Sigrid said.

  Ninni watched them. ‘I hope so. I’m not in the mood to dig furrows all day. Better they do it.’

  Sigrid looked at her. ‘You know, I’m the only one who hasn’t met your Englishman yet.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake. Why does everyone keep saying that? He’s not my Englishman,’ Ninni said.

  ‘But you’re the one who has the most dealings with him, being his neighbour. Olav said he’s not a farmer. What’s he like?’

  Everyone asked her that question. Ninni sighed. ‘He’s nice, I suppose. All I know is that he’s not familiar with the sea or boats, and a bit wary of dogs.’

  ‘It’s more than a bit strange that he shows up out of the blue like that. You could have knocked me over with a feather. Ole, don’t pull his ears,’ she barked at the boy.

  The boy had been hanging over the donkey’s ears. ‘But he likes it,’ he whined.

  ‘I’ll come over there and pull your ears
soon. See how much you like it,’ she said.

  Ole let go at once.

  Sigrid turned to Ninni again. ‘Is he good-looking? Olav had no idea. He’s so clueless sometimes.’

  They were interrupted by the arrival of Jens and Alma, coming up from the beach and carrying a huge basket between them. Alma shook her head when Ninni took the basket from them. ‘I’m getting too old to walk all this way,’ she said.

  Jens leaned against the fence, breathing heavily. He took off his hat and ran a hand over his head. ‘Last time it was this hot, you two weren’t even born.’

  Ninni smiled at him. ‘Didn’t you take the boat?’

  ‘Of course we did, but it’s a long way up from the beach.’ Alma looked around. ‘Shouldn’t we be in the field by now?’

  ‘We’re waiting for Ninni’s Englishman,’ Sigrid said with a grin.

  Jens chuckled. ‘I’m looking forward to his opinion on the Old Cheese I gave him.’

  ‘We all are. You haven’t stopped talking about it since you forced it on him,’ Alma said before handing the basket over to Sigrid. ‘It’s just a few baked goods.’

  Ninni leaned closer when Sigrid peered inside. The golden buns smelled of cardamom and vanilla, and Sigrid smiled. ‘Oh, these are going to disappear fast. I’ll hide them in the kitchen for now,’ she said.

  ‘Wait, wait, wait.’ Ninni grabbed a bun. ‘Sorry, I’m starving,’ she said when Alma gave her a stern look.

  ‘Let’s go before she eats all of them,’ Sigrid said with a smile.

  Alma followed her to make sure everything was taken care of. ‘Are you still using that old wood-burner oven? You do know that there are perfectly good electric ovens to get, some of them really good too,’ she said.

  Sigrid smiled. ‘I like the old oven. You will not believe the bread we make in it.’

  Alma huffed and muttered something Ninni couldn’t hear. It made her smile, listening to the two of them bickering like that.

  Jens waved his arm at the two men still struggling with the machinery. ‘I’m not going over there,’ he declared.

  Ninni took a bite of the buttery bun with a satisfied sigh. ‘Better you stay here with me and the kids. It’s a lot safer.’

  Jens patted her knee. ‘You’re a good girl. How’s your Englishman?’

  Ninni rolled her eyes. ‘He’s not my Englishman.’

  ‘Well, have you seen him lately?’

  ‘I saw Jack yesterday. He’d found some old exercise books that Agnar’s mother had written and wanted me to take a look at them. I can’t remember her. Did you know her?’

  Jens smiled. ‘Oh, indeed I did. Magni was a scary woman. Tough as nails. Her husband was a fisherman so he was barely at home, and she was in charge of the farm. Ran that farm as if it was a military camp.’

  Ninni looked at him. ‘You should tell Jack that. He’d be interested, I’m sure.’

  Jens nodded. ‘Perhaps I will. Is your dad coming today?’

  ‘He left Bergen early and should be here on the next ferry. I told him about Jack and he’s eager to meet him.’

  ‘Good, good. It must be quite a shock to him as well. Agnar was a close friend,’ Jens said.

  Ninni kept an eye on Ole and Anja. They were feeding the donkey carrots and it looked like they had decided to be nicer to him.

  ***

  Jack put the food in a bag and left the house. The sun was shining and, despite the fact that the wellingtons he had found were a tiny bit too big, he felt good.

  He had ended up using the second bottle of Britt’s beer in the marinade for the beef. It would be interesting to see how it turned out.

  When he got up to the main road he had no idea which direction was south, but assumed it was opposite to where he stood. He followed the road past Ninni’s house and craned his neck to see if she was there. Instead he was surprised to see a man coming out, closing the door behind him.

  The man smiled when he spotted Jack. ‘Hei,’ he said in Norwegian, then quickly switched to English. ‘You must be Agnar’s boy.’

  Jack wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to that expression. ‘I suppose I am,’ he said.

  ‘You look so much like him, for a minute there I thought you were him,’ he said.

  The man came down to the road, smiling from ear to ear. He carried a tote bag that looked heavy. He held out his hand. ‘I’m Petter Toft, Ninni’s father. Ninni only told me about you yesterday. I couldn’t believe it and so I had to come and see for myself.’

  ‘Nice to meet you too. I could hardly believe it myself.’ Jack took an instant liking to him.

  ‘Agnar was my friend. I have known him since I was a kid. And I’ve had a hard time understanding why he never said a word to me about you.’

  ‘So do I. He never met me, or even told me he existed,’ Jack said.

  Petter looked confused. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘You probably have all sorts of questions. Feel free to ask me, and I’ll answer as best I can.’

  Jack couldn’t help being charmed. ‘Thank you. I’ll do that. Want me to take that bag for you?’

  ‘God, no, I’m perfectly capable of carrying it myself. It’s just books for the children,’ Petter said.

  ‘You grew up on the island, didn’t you?’ Jack let Petter take the lead.

  ‘Yes, right in this house. Agnar and I spent a lot of time together, although he was a few years older than me. There weren’t many other children here when I grew up. My father died when I was young and I didn’t have any siblings. Agnar became more like my older brother than a neighbour.’

  Jack thought of something. ‘Why didn’t Agnar leave the farm to you? He didn’t know me. He never even met me.’

  ‘That I can’t tell you but, for one thing, he knew I would never be much of a farmer. Agnar promised his mother before she died that he would keep the farm in the family. Unfortunately, he never married.’ Petter smiled, as if he’d suddenly thought of something. ‘You know, I remember being surprised he didn’t seem worried about what would happen to the farm after he passed away. It must have been because he had you.’

  Jack looked around. The landscape they were walking through didn’t look anything like London. There were a few windswept spruce trees, juniper bushes and lots of grass and wildflowers.

  ‘What I don’t understand is why Agnar never contacted me. He obviously knew where I lived, what I do for a living. He even knew when my mother died.’

  Petter shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Agnar was a hermit, if that’s the right word, and got even more of a recluse as he got older.’

  ‘Was he always like that?’

  ‘More or less, especially after he returned and settled on the island once his parents passed away.’

  ‘What was he like?’ Jack hadn’t asked anyone about Agnar, but now he wanted to know more.

  ‘He drank too much about twice a year, loved this island and he could be funny when he was in the right mood. But he was lonely.’

  Jack looked at him. ‘Why did he never get married?’

  ‘I asked him once, shortly after Ninni was born and I thought everyone should have a family,’ Petter said. ‘He said he had been in love once, it didn’t work out and he never wanted to go through that sort of thing again. When I pressed him on it, he said he’d had to choose between the island and this girl. And he didn’t think she’d be happy here. She was a big city girl. I always assumed it was someone in Bergen. He hated cities. He even avoided Haugesund.’ Petter looked at him. ‘Now, I’m thinking she must have been your mother.’

  ‘Perhaps. But my mother married Paul when I was five and, as far as I know, they were happy together,’ he said.

  ‘Good for her,’ Petter said with a smile.

  Without Jack noticing, they had arrived at a gate. Petter pointed towards a farm with a scattering of buildings. ‘That’s Olav and Sigrid’s place. It’s a bit more isolated than our side of the island, but it’s nice, yes? It’s smaller than your farm, actually.’

 
; Jack spotted a paddock where a couple of children were riding on a donkey. Frikk barked at them, so he knew Ninni was there.

  The buildings were set back: a white house, a red barn that looked like it had fallen apart and a few smaller outbuildings on the side. On the other side there was a sandy beach with a boathouse, a pier and two rowing boats bobbing in the water.

  ‘Most visitors to the island come to this side as the beach on our side isn’t sandy. But we’ll see our fair share of summer guests in a week or so,’ Petter said.

  ‘Doesn’t the beach belong to the farm?’

  ‘Technically, yes, but because of the allemannsretten, everyone can use it. They do have to stay outside the farm’s fences and cultivated fields.’

  ‘How so?’ Jack wasn’t sure what allemannsretten was, although he remembered seeing the word on an Ikea package of meatballs at some point.

  ‘It means anyone can use the beach. You can’t sunbathe on someone’s pier but, apart from that, it’s for everyone. It’s to make sure that rich people don’t hog all the best outdoor areas,’ Petter said with a wide grin. ‘Unfortunately, this common right is under pressure in parts of the country, but we do our best to defend it here. We want people to feel welcome.’

  ‘That sounds nice,’ Jack said.

  Petter opened the first gate and closed it behind them. ‘Yes, it is, but it comes with a few rules. Always close gates, don’t light fires close to houses or in the fields, take your rubbish with you and always make sure you stay on uncultivated land. So you can’t camp in a crop field or where there’s livestock, or in someone’s garden.’

  ‘And do people abide by these rules?’ Jack wasn’t sure how they could ensure that.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Petter looked surprised at the idea. ‘There are always a few bastards who think they don’t have to be considerate of other people, but those are the exceptions.’

  Jack couldn’t see any rubbish anywhere, so perhaps Petter was right. Although he had also seen Ninni picking plastic bottles off the beach.

  ‘And what do you do if someone doesn’t follow the rules? If kids throw a huge party on the beach? Do you make them walk the plank? Throw them out to sea?’

  ‘Nah, usually we talk to them. Make them see sense, and if they’re too drunk to go back to the mainland we let them sleep it off in one of the boathouses or on the beach. We’re not pirates out here, you know. Not any more,’ he said with a wide grin.