Summer Island Read online

  ‘I guess that depends how old it is,’ Jack said, intrigued now.

  Jens chuckled and pulled a small black package from one of the shelves and held it up.

  ‘This, my friend, is a fresh mould cheese, made from cultured milk. You will not get it anywhere else in the world. You see, this is proper Viking cheese, and only the bravest dare taste it,’ he said, his eyes challenging him.

  ‘Viking cheese?’ Jack took the cheese from him. ‘I’ll give it a try.’

  ‘Oh, yes. The Vikings used it as an aphrodisiac. However, I doubt that would work today. The smell of the cheese is a bit pungent.’

  ‘How do you use it?’

  Jens smiled. ‘I put some on bread with lots of butter and perhaps a dollop of lingonberries. Alma refuses to eat it if there’s no bacon. Other people eat it with mayo or just put lots of butter on it, or eat it as it is.’

  ‘Do you have any eggs?’ Jack dropped the cheese in the basket.

  ‘Not yet, I’m afraid. Perhaps later today. We get them fresh from one of the farms, and the hens can be temperamental.’

  Jack hid a smile. ‘But you have oils, right?’

  ‘Of course, over here.’ Jens showed him a small rack with a few bottles of Greek olive oil and some rapeseed oil. ‘When I tell Alma you have been here, she’s going to want to know where you are staying. Everyone is wondering about that!’

  ‘Are they?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Some people think you may be a burglar and will murder us in our beds. Not me,’ he added.

  Jack smiled. ‘You can ease everyone’s curiosity. I’m staying at the Bergets farm.’

  For a second Jens stared at him. ‘Oh,’ he finally said. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. So you can tell people that I’m harmless and don’t sleep in a ditch.’ Jack was enjoying himself.

  Jens shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just so very surprised. We thought the lawyers who run the place now, such as it is, couldn’t rent it out. They are doing a poor job looking after the farm, by the way. Mostly we have taken care of the necessary things.’

  ‘Like what?’ Jack put the groceries on the counter.

  Jens shrugged. ‘We’ve kept up with the grass.’

  He looked at him as if he expected Jack to know what he was talking about.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘The winter grass. It needs cutting at least twice every season and now, because of all this fine weather, it has been growing a lot faster than normal, so we have cut it a bit earlier than usual. You won’t have to cut it again now until July, I should think. And if you’re really lucky, and the weather stays nice, you can cut it again in September.’

  ‘Okay,’ Jack said, wondering what the man was talking about.

  He watched as Jens put the groceries through the ceremony of the till, and followed the instructions on the pad with a little help from the shopkeeper.

  ‘Pin kode is the same as a pin code, you know,’ Jens explained.

  It looked like a spelling mistake to Jack. He stuffed everything in an old backpack he had found in the house and walked towards the door. In the doorway he turned.

  ‘Why do I have to cut the grass?’ he said.

  ‘Because of the animals, of course,’ Jens said, beaming at him.

  ‘It’s something we all do. You’ll save a fortune on it in the winter.’

  ‘Do you have animals to feed?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Not us. Alma and I have a cat, but he doesn’t eat grass, of course. But we all help. You will find that in rough times we tend to stick together and when someone needs help we do a dugnad.’

  Must be some sort of Norwegian custom, Jack thought when he headed back. Jens seemed to think he knew what it meant. No matter. He was leaving soon.

  Chapter 5

  Ninni decided to stay around the house. There was work to be done and she had a deep respect for deadlines. It had nothing to do with the Englishman at all.

  There was no need to go anywhere. The freezer was filled to the brim and she had everything else she needed from Alma. All she needed first was a morning swim.

  She felt better every morning. Because of her parents, she couldn’t throw the phone in the bin, but she could leave it in the house and ignore it. She knew she should delete the pictures. Not only every one she had of Karl and her, taken when she’d thought life couldn’t be better, but also that last one: the one that changed everything. But she wasn’t ready to look at it again and she couldn’t get herself to delete it.

  Never mind that she had told Karl to go to hell. It hurt too much. She hadn’t given him time to explain himself and that gnawed at her. Should she give him the benefit of the doubt? Except there was no doubt in this case. That picture said all there was to say.

  ‘I would never give him a second chance,’ she said to Frikk as they walked down to the beach. The dog looked unimpressed. ‘I just want to know how he could be such a bastard.’

  The dog suddenly stopped and started barking his head off. He was a few steps ahead of her. Ninni hastened up to him.

  ‘What? Why are you barking, you silly dog?’

  Frikk barked again. Only it was more of a growl than a bark, and she realised he was warning her.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Ninni stepped towards the tall grass and peered carefully down. ‘Is it a squirrel? Or a mouse?’

  A steel-grey snake squirmed past them and disappeared underneath a small rock.

  Ninni looked at the dog. ‘That’s a slow-worm, not a cobra, and it’s not dangerous at all. Leave the poor creature alone.’

  Frikk kept his ears perked, staring in the direction of the worm in case she needed defending.

  ‘Come on, we have things to do today.’ Ninni ran across the hillside until she stood on the edge. She held out her arms and yelled into the wind. Frikk grinned with his tongue hanging out.

  The sun was baking, so hot it was almost unnatural. Ninni didn’t hesitate when she came down to the beach, but jumped straight into the cool water. It was so clear she could see the bottom. Small crabs darted across the pebbles, hiding in the flowing seaweed. A shoal of young fish swam away when she tried to touch one of them.

  She spluttered when Frikk jumped in after her, splashing and panting like a maniac. He was grinning and getting water in his mouth, then sneezing.

  ‘You are a mess,’ Ninni said, grabbing hold of his collar. ‘Go on land and wait for me.’

  The dog paddled towards land and climbed up on the slippery stones, then settled nicely on the pier, watching her swim.

  When she climbed out of the water she thought she saw movement from Agnar’s house, but when she looked again there was nothing there. Just the sun on the windowpane, she thought, shrugging. As far as she knew, there were no ghosts in Agnar’s house.

  She lay down next to Frikk and rested her chin on her hands. The wood was warm and comfortable, reminding her of all the summers when it seemed that was all she was doing.

  A plastic bottle floated past, catching her attention. ‘Oh, the bastards,’ she said.

  Ninni stretched out her arm and caught the bottle. Just an ordinary fizzy water bottle, thrown overboard by some useless bastard who couldn’t be bothered to bring it to shore and throw it in the bin like a normal person.

  She got up and put the bottle in her backpack. ‘Come on, Frikk. Time to inspect the beach.’

  The dog was up at once and followed her down to the beach. Among the patches of sand and pebbles, she found another bottle at once. Carefully she walked towards the other side, picking up rubbish on her way.

  Jack saw her from the window, wondering what the hell she was doing. He longed for a swim, but didn’t have any shorts to swim in and he wasn’t very keen on swimming in his underwear. Not with her there almost all the time. He hadn’t brought a lot of clothes, only enough to last for a few days. Agnar had a washing machine, but there was no detergent anywhere that he could find. He added that to his list.

  He brought a cup of tea out in the garden, togethe
r with the papers from the lawyers. They had translated the will and he had read all of it at the office, not wanting to sign anything that would make it impossible to sell the farm or get him in debtors’ prison in Norway. If they had anything like that.

  He found a listing of estate agents online and called the first. He explained the situation and ended up explaining it to another two agents, until someone finally said he would come and take a look. They specialised in farms, and the agent gave him a list of things he needed to know.

  That was when Jack discovered that the envelope given to him by the lawyers contained papers that looked like lists but that he couldn’t read. Why the hell hadn’t they translated them?

  The estate agent made him read aloud the first things on the list, being polite enough not to laugh at his pronunciation, then said it was an inventory.

  ‘Bloody hell, it’s six pages long,’ Jack said.

  ‘That only means they have been thorough.’

  He made an appointment for the following day and was pleased with himself. Afterwards, he opened Google Translate and started to translate the list, word by word.

  ‘I have a boat,’ he said out loud. That would probably be in the boathouse. Cool.

  ‘Hello?’

  Jack looked up to find a man about his own age, standing on top of the little stairs that led down into the garden. The man was dressed in a faded pair of cargo shorts and a T-shirt with a huge print of a cannabis leaf. He lifted a hand. In the other hand he held a brown paper bag. ‘Are you the Englishman?’

  ‘I guess I am. Hello.’

  The man pointed at the garden. ‘May I talk to you?’

  ‘Sure.’ Jack stood up and shook his hand. ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Jack.’

  ‘Olav. My partner and I have a smallholding on the other side of the island.’

  Jack pointed at the chair. ‘Sit down. How did you know I was here?’

  ‘Jens told me when I popped into the shop,’ Olav said.

  Jack smiled. ‘Are you the one they send out to see if I’m dangerous?’

  ‘Not really. I just need to know one thing,’ Olav said.

  ‘And what is that?’

  Olav scratched his ear. ‘Are you a tourist? I’m asking because it sounds really … unlikely. The property has been empty since Agnar died, and I don’t think they can rent out a property where there’s no owner. All they told us was that they were looking for an heir and, as far as anyone on the island knows, Agnar didn’t have any family left.’

  ‘I see.’ Jack didn’t hide his amusement. ‘And you want to know what I’m doing here. Is that so?’

  Olav nodded. ‘Yes, if you don’t mind telling me. Of course, you’re under no obligation to do so.’

  ‘Do you want some tea?’ Jack lifted his cup. ‘I’m happy to get you some.’

  Olav shook his head. ‘No, thank you. I don’t really drink black tea.’

  ‘That’s fine. I don’t have any biscuits to offer you, I’m afraid.’

  The mention of biscuits triggered a reaction with Olav. He held out the paper bag he had been holding. ‘Sorry, these are from my partner, Sigrid. They are healthy, I’m afraid,’ he added.

  Jack opened the bag. The contents looked like biscuits. He took one out and looked at it. It was round, had bits in it and smelled delicious. ‘What kind are they?’

  ‘Oatmeal cookies with hazelnut, honey and raisins. We make our own honey. Small scale, but still.’

  Olav grinned when Jack carefully took a bite, chewed it and nodded. ‘Not bad, actually. Do you want one?’ Jack held out the bag.

  ‘No, I had to promise Sigrid to leave all of them for you. It would be rude. She is very partial to hospitality.’

  Jack wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he put the rest of the biscuit in his mouth.

  Olav looked at him, obviously waiting for something.

  Jack smiled. He had nothing to hide. ‘I’m the new owner of the farm,’ he said.

  ‘Oh,’ Olav said. ‘That’s certainly unexpected.’

  ‘Do you want to see the paperwork?’ Jack nodded towards the pile of paper on the table.

  ‘No, of course not. I have no reason not to believe you. I’m just surprised.’

  Not as much as me, Jack thought. He could see Olav trying to figure out what to ask next.

  ‘Did you buy the farm?’ Olav said after a small pause.

  Jack smiled. ‘No. Agnar left it to me in his will.’

  ‘Well, then that changes matters, I think.’ Olav cleared his throat. ‘I’ve been cutting your grass,’ he said, waving a hand at the fence towards the field.

  ‘Okay,’ Jack said. What was it with these people and grass? Jens had gone on about the same thing. ‘That’s nice of you, I guess. Did you make those things on the field with the hay?’

  ‘They are racks to dry grass on, yes. It’s called hesjer,’ Olav said. ‘I cleared it with the lawyers first, of course; I have been doing it for the last five years. Agnar and us, we shared the grass. This farm is organic, just like mine, so we cooperated.’

  ‘Right. And you want to know if the arrangement can continue?’

  Olav nodded. ‘Yes, I do. We depend on the grass as winter fodder for our cows and sheep, and for the donkey, of course.’

  Jack wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. Olav looked serious. It surprised him that Olav didn’t ask about why Agnar had left him the farm. He wouldn’t volunteer any information. If people wanted to know, they could bloody well ask directly.

  ‘I see. Whatever you and Agnar did, you are welcome to keep doing it until I decide what to do with … everything.’

  ‘Oh, so you are selling the place?’ Olav looked surprised again.

  ‘I’m not sure what I will do with the farm, to be honest.’

  ‘Not a farmer, then.’ Olav’s face suddenly lit up in a wide grin.

  Jack grinned back at him. ‘Not even the slightest. I have absolutely no knowledge of farming, Olav. This is the first time I’m on anything resembling a farm. And this place is nothing like I expected.’

  Olav looked puzzled. ‘Oh. What do you do, then? For a living, I mean?’

  ‘Actually I’m a chef, so I know all about produce and how to cook it,’ Jack said with a grin as Olav’s eyes widened. ‘But that doesn’t mean I want to run a farm. I wouldn’t know where to begin.’

  Olav looked around. ‘I hope you don’t sell it to developers. They’ll ruin the beach and the fields, and all the hard work Agnar put into running this farm will be lost. It would be such a shame. There are so few smallholdings left in this country, and even fewer who farm organically. There’s a lot of commitment, hard work and love of the land in this farm.’

  ‘Like I said, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve only been here for two days,’ Jack said.

  ‘Of course, of course. I’m sorry to be nosy, but you know, we are all curious about you. And even more now that we know you’re the new owner.’

  I bet, Jack thought. ‘I understand that.’

  Olav looked like he wanted to say something else, but hesitated.

  ‘What?’ Jack smiled.

  ‘Well, if you decide to sell, perhaps you could consider another option. You could sell the house as a holiday house, then the fields to the rest of us. I’m sure some of the others would be interested.’

  ‘There’s a thought. I’ll certainly consider that,’ Jack said.

  It didn’t matter to him who bought it. He wanted the highest price he could get. He had plans for that money, depending on how much he could get for the place.

  ‘Thank you, that’s awfully nice.’ Olav stood up, apparently finished with the visit. ‘Oh, and please come and visit our farm, if you like.’

  Jack nodded. ‘I would love to. Thank you.’

  Olav pointed south. ‘We’re at the other end of the island.’

  He disappeared and Jack leaned back. He put another biscuit in his mouth. It was delicious, he thought, wondering if he could get the recipe. And th
en the phone buzzed.

  Jack looked at it and frowned. Fedra. Yeah, he was not talking to her. He wasn’t talking to any of them. Without hesitation, he muted the phone. She immediately texted him.

  Where are you? Don’t be a child. Pick up the phone. I want it back! You bastard thief!

  Jack grinned and looked up at the tree. It had small knots of fruit all over the branches. What was that? Pears or apples? He had no idea. Some farmer I’d be, he thought.

  ***

  Later that afternoon, Ninni climbed up the stairs to Jens and Alma’s house. The main entrance was at the back, with the shop on the ground floor.

  The door was open. Most people never locked their doors.

  ‘Hello?’

  No response, but she heard voices. She kicked off her shoes in the hall and walked in.

  Jens sat by the living room door and smiled when she popped her head in. ‘We are having a serious discussion about what to do about the Englishman who is roaming the island,’ he whispered.

  ‘Why?’ Ninni had received a text, telling her to be at the meeting, but it didn’t say for what reason. ‘Did he do something?’

  ‘Turns out he inherited the place,’ Jens whispered.

  ‘What?’ Ninni wasn’t sure if he was joking.

  Jens winked at her, then lifted a finger to point at his wife.

  Alma sat in the recliner on the other side of the room, with a cup of coffee in her hand. ‘He’s not roaming the island. He’s an imposter, for God’s sake. It’s clear as day.’

  Ninni looked around the room. Those present formed the island’s council. Although the total population was barely over a hundred people, the island governed itself.

  She smiled at the school teacher, Britt, who beamed back at her. Olav and Sigrid sat close together on the sofa, and on the other side was the third farmer on the island, Tobben. He nodded at her too, looking grim.

  Jens made room for her next to him. ‘We have waffles,’ he said, pointing at the table.

  A lot more than waffles; there were also biscuits and one of Alma’s pound cakes. Lemon, Ninni guessed.