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.’
‘That sounds sensible.’ Thóra smiled. Another salary wouldn’t hurt. ‘You can always change jobs later. It’s not like they’re hiring you for life.’
‘No, that’s true.’ He was obviously making an effort to be upbeat. ‘Which of course is all this job has going for it, apart from the fact that I’m finding it incredibly difficult just sitting about doing nothing.’
‘And it hasn’t exactly made things easier having Mum and Dad hanging around…’ There was no need for Matthew to respond to this. ‘Well, anyway, you’ll figure something out. It’s not as if we’re broke.’
Matthew smiled at her. ‘Don’t you need an assistant?’
She smiled back. ‘Get rid of Bella for me and you can apply to be our receptionist.’
The match ended with Sóley’s team being thrashed as usual; in fact the winners even seemed a bit shamefaced, as if they’d been playing against a team of younger girls and had got too carried away by the game to keep their victory to a modest level. But Sóley and her teammates didn’t take the loss to heart and came off the pitch with their heads held high, in the true spirit of sportsmanship.
Jakob wasn’t handcuffed to the bed or restrained in any other way. Nor were there any guards posted at his door. The hospital room was securely locked, though, so he couldn’t have got far if he had made a run for it – which seemed unlikely in any case, considering his injuries. The nurse who had opened the door for Thóra had called for authorisation to let her in, which didn’t appear to be a problem. Not knowing the full story behind the attack, Thóra had brought Matthew with her just to be safe; it was entirely possible that Jakob had started the fight and she knew she might be in for a thrashing similar to the one that Sóley’s team had suffered if he felt like turning his anger on her. Matthew’s presence didn’t seem to bother anyone, which reinforced the impression that people weren’t particularly worried about Jakob. Thóra didn’t quite know how to interpret this, but in the end she decided it probably wasn’t a good thing: they weren’t even considering that they might need to keep an eye on him. Of course there could be an entirely different, quite practical explanation; perhaps it was simply yet another manifestation of savings and cutbacks.
Jakob was lying in a hospital bed with the blanket pulled up to his chin. His right eye was covered with thick white bandages and he had made an attempt to put his glasses neatly over them. The large, clumsy frames were crooked, since one arm did not reach his ear, which had also been damaged – it too was covered with bandages, and taped to his head. The result was rather comical; even more so as Jakob turned his head quickly away from the television to see who had come, which meant the glasses dropped and ended up so crooked that they lay almost at right angles to his face. He hurried to straighten them with his chubby fingers. ‘Hello, Jakob,’ said Thóra. She held out the box she’d bought on the way. ‘We’ve brought you some chocolates. You remember Matthew, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’ Jakob stared at the colourful box. ‘Can I have some now?’
‘Of course.’ Thóra immediately regretted saying this. He might well be nil by mouth. ‘Are you allowed to eat? Has anyone told you you shouldn’t?’
‘No. No one.’ Jakob shook his head to emphasize his words. ‘But I’m still hungry. I couldn’t finish my supper last night.’ He didn’t need to explain any further what had disturbed his supper. ‘I got food before but I should have had two meals because I’m owed one from yesterday.’
‘Of course.’ Thóra smiled. She opened the box and placed it on the table next to him as Matthew pulled two chairs up to the bed. ‘Watch out for the cracknel.’
Jakob took Thóra at her word and chose carefully. With his mouth full of chocolate he muttered politely, ‘Thank you very much.’