Summer Island Read online

  Jack poured hot water in two mugs and dropped a teabag in each. ‘Sorry, I don’t have any coffee.’

  She didn’t seem to care, putting two spoons of sugar in the mug and stirring with a faraway look in her eyes. ‘I can’t believe Agnar never told me about you,’ she said again.

  ‘If it’s any consolation, nobody told me about Agnar either. I never thought to ask Mum about him, and by the time I started wondering about Agnar, she was gone,’ Jack said.

  Alma took a sip of the tea, frowned and put the mug down, pushing it a bit away. ‘Agnar kept to himself. He worked with Olav on the fields, and in the last few years Tobben, Olav and Britt worked with him on the meat production. Men barely talk about much apart from the weather and football, so he probably didn’t talk to them about you either. Men are strange creatures, sometimes, Mr Greene.’

  It was the first time she had referred to him by name. Jack smiled. ‘Please call me Jack. Everyone else does.’

  Alma nodded. ‘Tell me something, Jack. You said your mother passed away when you were twelve. What happened to you afterwards?’

  ‘My mother married my dad when I was five. Paul treated me as if I was his son, and before Mum died she made him my legal guardian. Pauls family wasn’t too thrilled, but he couldn’t care less. I stayed with him and my two siblings.’ Jack smiled.

  ‘I can’t help wondering if anyone told Agnar about your mother passing. It seems strange to me that he would not make some kind of claim on you,’ Alma said.

  Jack thought about it. ‘I wouldn’t know. Paul is my dad in every way. From the first time I met him. He never treated me differently from my siblings. And I wouldn’t have left him on his own anyway. He needed me. Holly was four years old and Danny was just a baby. Perhaps Mum didn’t want us to lose each other.’

  ‘Or to send you to a stranger in another country. I can understand that. I just wonder if Agnar was asked what he thought.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘I don’t really know.’

  He realised he hadn’t asked his dad about this. Perhaps he should have.

  Alma put a finger on the small exercise book and smiled. ‘I haven’t seen one of these in years. Your grandmother was a great cook, you know. So was Agnar. So perhaps you have inherited more from them than you think.’

  Jack stood up and followed her outside. She looked up at him.

  ‘You look like Agnar. I didn’t realise why you seemed so familiar until now.’ Tears welled up in her eyes and she turned abruptly. ‘I should leave.’

  Jack leaned against the doorpost, watching her go. That was a first, he thought. He was used to not looking like anyone.

  ***

  Ninni climbed up the path from the beach with a bucket full of nice fat mackerel. She wondered what to do with them or, even better, who to give them to.

  She stopped when Frikk started barking, then wagged his tail.

  Alma came up the road from Agnar’s farm. She was pale and looked like she had been crying.

  Ninni hurried over to her. ‘Alma … what’s wrong?’

  The older woman shook her head. Her lower lip trembled.

  Ninni dropped the bucket and put her arm around her. ‘Come on, sit with me. You look like you’ve had the shock of your life.’

  They sat down on the grass and Alma shook her head again. ‘I’ve just come from Agnar’s farm. I talked to the boy,’ she said.

  Ninni didn’t like the sound of that. ‘What did Jack do? Did he insult you in any way?’

  Alma shook her head again. ‘No, of course not. He’s a nice man. It’s not his fault.’

  ‘Tell me, please.’

  ‘He’s Agnar’s son, and it breaks my heart that Agnar didn’t trust us, trust me, enough to tell us. I would have begged him to bring the boy here, at least for holidays. He’s one of us and we should have been allowed to get to know him.’

  ‘Agnar’s son?’ Ninni said. That was unexpected. ‘Are you sure?’

  Alma nodded. ‘Absolutely. He let me read Agnar’s will. It’s all there. Name, date of birth, his mother’s name. Agnar knew all about him. He even had pictures of himself and the boy’s mother, for God’s sake.’

  ‘I thought there was something strange about him,’ Ninni said slowly.

  ‘Yes, well, you didn’t know Agnar when he was young, but Jack looks so very much like him. I should have recognised him at once.’

  ‘Perhaps you should ask for a DNA test, Ninni suggested.

  Alma shrugged. ‘No, he’s been vetted by the lawyers, and by Agnar. His name is on Jack’s birth certificate. It’s all true.’

  She fell silent for a moment. Ninni picked up the bucket again and waved Frikk away when he tried to sniff the fish.

  ‘We have to give him a proper welcome, you know. Agnar would have expected us to treat him well.’

  Ninni wasn’t sure that was a good idea, considering Agnar’s secrecy. ‘But Olav said Jack wants to sell the farm. Why would you welcome him when he’s going to leave, and destroy the island at the same time?’

  Alma patted her knee. ‘We must be clever. He has never been here before; he feels no ties to the island or to the farm. He is also confused about the whole situation. Our aim will be to keep him from leaving until he realises that he belongs here.’

  Ninni looked at her. ‘That’s your plan? It’s not much of a plan, Alma. He’s British, he’s from London and he’s a Michelin star chef. There is no chance in hell that he will stay here.’

  Alma smiled. ‘We will win him over by making him feel like he’s one of us. Which he is; don’t forget that. We will all help, including you. You wait and see.’

  ‘You are sneaky. It’s a long shot, though. You know that, right?’

  ‘Stranger things have happened. We didn’t think Agnar had an heir, but he did.’

  ‘Okay. What do you have in mind?’

  ‘I’ll think of something. In the meantime, we will treat him like family.’

  ‘Well, perhaps not that close,’ Ninni said, not sure why she didn’t like the idea at all.

  Alma took a deep breath. ‘Jack told me that his father’s family never treated him like one of them. So he needs us. Even if he doesn’t know it yet.’

  Ninni almost rolled her eyes. ‘If you say so.’

  ‘You should call Petter. Let him know. You know how close he was to Agnar. I’m sure he would like to meet Jack.’ Alma got up from the grass. She brushed her trousers and smiled at Ninni. ‘Don’t look so serious. We’ll get him on our side. If there’s anything of Agnar in him, we’ll find it.’

  After getting to know Jack a little better, Ninni doubted anything would make him stay on the island. It must have shown on her face.

  Alma patted her cheek. ‘It will all work out in the end. I promise.’

  Ninni picked up the bucket. ‘I caught these today. Perhaps you would like them? They’re too many for me.’

  Alma peered into the bucket. ‘I’ll take them. Jens loves mackerel cakes. I’ll save some for you, if you like.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ll pick them up tomorrow. I’m more in the mood for pizza today.’

  ‘You are a funny one. I have to go. Jens is eagerly awaiting the result of my talk. He’s in for quite a shock.’

  Alma gave her a quick hug. ‘Be nice to the boy. At least for the time being.’

  Ninni watched her make her way towards the harbour. She turned and headed home. Be nice to the boy? she thought. ‘I’ll bet someone said that to Mata Hari once too,’ she muttered.

  Chapter 8

  Early in the morning a couple of days later, Ninni rigged up a table in the garden. The old cherry tree showed promise; there were lots of tiny pink buds on the branches.

  She scratched Frikk under his chin. ‘I think we’ll stay until autumn this time. No need to go home, now that Karl is out of the picture, is there?’

  It felt good saying it aloud – so good. From now on she would remember that feeling.

  Frikk slipped under the table and fell as
leep. Dogs were lucky, she thought as she put the computer in the shadow and the stack of reference books on one of the chairs next to her. She had coffee in the thermos and sandwiches on a plate, and a beautiful view to distract her.

  Time to get some work done. She placed her mobile next to the computer. Her father hadn’t responded to the text she’d sent him earlier, but he would at some point. She wondered how he would react to the news about Jack.

  She opened the computer and was soon immersed in a contract between two oil companies. The thermos was almost empty when Frikk started barking and almost toppled the table as he shot out from under it.

  Ninni turned around and discovered Jack standing outside the fence.

  ‘You are really good at concentrating,’ he said. ‘I’ve been standing here for five minutes.’

  ‘No, you haven’t. Frikk reacted the moment you got close,’ she said and grabbed the dog by the collar. ‘Shush, Frikk. You are scaring the nice man. You know him now. Jack is a friend.’

  ‘I’ve come to ask you a favour.’ He held up a carrier bag as if that explained everything.

  Ninni remembered Alma’s plea to treat him nicely. ‘Of course, come in.’

  Jack climbed over the low fence and walked towards her. Frikk sat up, ears perked and tail hitting the ground. Jack stopped. ‘We have exchanged paws, buddy, so be nice.’

  He patted Frikk on the head and got a lick back.

  ‘Sit down,’ Ninni said.

  Jack sat down on the only available chair. ‘I’m sorry, I just realised that you are working. Do you hold regular office hours out here?’

  ‘No, nothing regular. I work when I want to. Work shouldn’t be stressful,’ Ninni said.

  He seemed amused. ‘I have never quite thought about it in that manner.’

  ‘Then maybe you are in the wrong line of work?’ Something about him made Ninni want to tease him.

  ‘I love cooking, so I don’t think so.’

  Ninni shrugged. ‘To be a chef in a Michelin-star restaurant has to be stressful. All that pressure to cook perfectly, every time you go into a kitchen? It sounds like a nightmare.’

  Jack smiled. ‘Do you cook?’

  ‘Enough to keep Frikk and myself alive, but it’s not something I do for the love of it. To be honest, I can live perfectly fine on frozen pizza and waffles.’

  Jack frowned. ‘Now that sounds like a nightmare.’

  ‘That’s because you haven’t tasted my waffles,’ Ninni said.

  He looked like he was waiting for an invitation, but one that wasn’t coming. Not on your life, mate, she thought.

  ‘What’s in the bag?’ she said instead.

  He put the bag on the table. ‘Alma said you’re a translator.’

  Ninni nodded. ‘Yes, but I don’t translate fiction, only legal papers, contracts and such: all those things you need notarised. Is that what you need?’

  ‘It’s not that complicated, I’m afraid. The lawyers who translated Agnar’s will left out the inventory list. I called them, but they tell me it would be a full week before I get it back. I’ve tried to do it myself with Google Translate, but perhaps there’s more I should know about. I don’t want to discover I have more goats,’ he said.

  ‘Sheep,’ Ninni said and held out her hand.

  ‘I’m not convinced about that yet,’ Jack said and handed her the bag.

  She hid a smile. ‘Did you find the smokehouse?’

  ‘I found a lot more than that. I found the meat hanging in the stabbur. It melted in my mouth.’

  ‘I told you so.’ Ninni opened the bag and pulled out the contents: a thin file and some old notebooks. She started with the file.

  ‘Hmm,’ she said.

  ‘What? More goats?’ Jack looked suspicious.

  Ninni looked at him. ‘No, but there’s a donkey and a couple of cows, and quite a few turkeys.’

  Jack frowned. ‘Turkeys?’

  ‘Yes, and a llama.’

  He laughed. ‘I hope you are a better translator than that.’

  ‘I’m an excellent translator. I’ve been doing it for seven years.’ Ninni read through the list and handed it back to him. ‘Don’t worry. There’s no more livestock or anything like that. But it mentions that the stabbur is a joint venture with Tobben, Britt and Olav.’

  ‘I know. They will go through everything with me soon,’ he said.

  Ninni looked at him. ‘If you already know what’s in here, why come to me? Do you think the lawyers have cheated you or that Tobben and the others have?’

  ‘No, not at all. They couldn’t be nicer. In the last few days I have received visitors and gifts worthy of a king. There’s eggs and beer, all sorts of jam and even some dried fish – herring, I think.’

  He said it with such delight that Ninni couldn’t help but be charmed. ‘I heard Jens sold you a package of Old Cheese. He’s had great fun with that.’

  Jack shrugged. ‘I actually like it.’

  ‘Seriously? It’s hideous and smelly,’ Ninni said and opened the old notebook.

  ‘It has a distinct flavour, yes, but I like Stinking Bishop, so the joke is on me.’

  ‘Stinking Bishop? What’s that?’

  ‘The smelliest cheese in the UK. It’s fantastic,’ Jack said with a wide grin.

  Ninni picked up one of the exercise books and opened it to read the first page. She looked up at him. ‘Do you know what this is?’

  ‘Those are recipes, right?’ He looked at the familiar set-up.

  Ninni nodded. ‘Yes, but it’s a lot more than that. This book isn’t just a cookbook; it’s more like a journal of the farm.’

  Jack leaned forward. ‘Really? Who wrote it?’

  ‘Agnar’s mother, Magni. Your grandmother, actually—’ Ninni smiled at his surprise. ‘You didn’t know that either, did you? It must be so strange to arrive at a place like this, not knowing anything about the people who lived there before. Especially since they are your family.’

  Jack smiled. ‘It’s interesting, for sure. Tell me more about the book. What else is in it?’

  Ninni stopped at one page and pointed. ‘Magni writes about the weather. Not surprising, not here on the island, at least. Then there’s a recipe on how to prepare lubbesild; it’s a traditional way of preparing herring, a bit like kippers. She says Agnar brought her some good fat herring.’ Ninni turned a few more pages. ‘And here are recipes for gooseberry jam and redcurrant jelly. That doesn’t sound half bad, actually.’

  Jack stretched his legs. ‘It sounds … nice.’

  ‘There’s a detailed description on how to butcher and preserve a pig. With drawings. Nasty.’

  ‘I already know how to carve meat.’ Jack smiled again.

  ‘There’s also a description of how to knit woollen socks. That could come in handy during the winter,’ Ninni said.

  ‘Did she make them from the sheep’s wool?’

  ‘Maybe. I’m not sure when they started to keep sheep, to be honest.’

  Ninni closed the book. ‘You should learn Norwegian if you want to read these. It gives you quite an insight into how the farm was run when Agnar was growing up. There’s also references to his childhood. She obviously loved him very much.’

  He looked like he was considering it. Then he smiled slowly, making heat rise in the pit of her stomach. ‘Could you translate them for me? I will, of course, pay you for the work.’

  Ninni couldn’t help smiling. ‘Are you sure you can afford it? My rates are pretty high.’

  He grinned back at her. ‘Well, I think I can. I’d love to read them. Perhaps there are some recipes I can experiment with.’

  ‘I know Sigrid would kill for these.’

  ‘Olav’s partner? Why?’

  ‘She firmly believes that everything was done better before. As if the last fifty years have been wasted on making life easier, especially for women.’

  ‘I didn’t get the impression that Olav feels that way. The storehouse is professionally made, with loads of electri
city and high tech freezers.’

  ‘He chose to live on an island with no cars, they don’t have a TV and the internet connection is hidden in the attic so the children won’t be corrupted by it,’ Ninni said.

  Jack laughed. ‘That sounds bloody exhausting.’

  ‘Yes, it does, but they are dedicated to the cause.’

  ‘Now I know I have to go and see them.’

  Here’s my chance, Ninni thought. ‘Why haven’t you?’

  ‘I’m not used to imposing on my neighbours. If you do that in London you’re considered mad,’ he said with light laughter.

  Ninni could hear Alma’s instructions in her head and almost rolled her eyes. She smiled at him instead.

  ‘You’re in luck. Tomorrow night we’re all going to plant potatoes at Sigrid and Olav’s farm. You could come if you want to. They would love it.’

  He looked confused. ‘To plant potatoes?’

  ‘Yes. Everyone will be there. There will be a party afterwards.’ Ninni felt uncomfortable. Why hadn’t any of the others invited him?

  ‘Is this what Jens called dugnad?’

  ‘That’s the official word, yes. But really it’s more of an excuse to have a party on the beach. There will be beer, possibly wine, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Tobben brings a bottle of what he claims to be whisky, but is actually some witches brew he concocted in the barn. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  Jack’s smile grew slowly and Ninni’s heart jumped. She leafed through the exercise book she was still holding to hide her embarrassment.

  ‘When does it start?’

  She was so aware that Jack was watching her.

  ‘Usually around three o’clock. It’s going to be a long day, I’m afraid. So if you’re not up for it, you don’t have to come.’ Ninni looked at him.

  ‘I would love to come. Since I don’t know the customs here, is there anything I should bring? Wine or food, or something else?’

  Ninni shook her head. ‘You’re new, so you’re not expected to bring anything. There will be more than enough food and drinks, so don’t worry about that.’

  ‘Is there a dress code to this dugnad?’

  ‘We’ll be digging in a muddy potato field. I think you’re fine in wellingtons and jeans,’ she said, regretting her words when his smile broadened. ‘And a sweater for later,’ she muttered.