Hanna follows Steinn down into the bas.e.m.e.nt with mixed feelings. He no doubt wants to show her something in connection with the two paintings, something they overlooked. When they get down, she sees the two paintings up against a wall over in the corner, wrapped in polyethylene, but Steinn walks past them and on toward the large shelves at the back of the room. He indicates that she should follow as he leads in that direction.

"I've been meaning to show you this for some time."

Steinn picks two paintings up off the shelf and leans them up against the wall. They are landscape paintings by Gudrun Johannsdottir, but Hanna hasn't seen them before. Steinn points her to the corner of one of the paintings. The signature appears to have been painted over, but the work is signed by Gudrun in the other corner. Hanna looks at Steinn. She can hardly believe her own eyes.

"Are you saying that...?"

Steinn says nothing for the moment; he just looks at the paintings.

"That's what I fear," he says. "These aren't new acquisitions; the gallery's owned them for some years. But look at these." He takes two more paintings down from the shelf, pictures that Hanna knows and was looking at just a few weeks before. She breathes more easily. These are landscape paintings from early on in Gudrun's career. She glances at them briefly.

"Yes, this is entirely different." She looks at the black sheep again. Steinn had deliberately covered them up.

He puts the paintings back on the shelf. "As you can imagine, I have discussed these with Kristin. But you know what she's like."

Hanna looks at him questioningly. "No, I'm not sure I do," she says. "I don't fully understand Kristin."

Steinn shakes his head.

"She's just a sn.o.b with no b.a.l.l.s. That's all there is to it. Between us we've been arguing about this for a number of years. She always avoids anything that could be damaging to her or the gallery. I wanted to use the opportunity when the big forgery case was going on and go to court about these paintings, but Kristin hemmed and hawed so long that eventually it was too late. But she never said no, not directly, just like this time."

Steinn straightens the paintings on the shelf.

"When we got Composition in Blue I was too concerned about my eyesight to be able to investigate it properly. You know what the outcome was there. The director of the National Bank who donated the painting is a friend of Kristin's, as you can imagine."

Hanna looks at him. "I didn't think Kristin was soa"unprofessional," she says.

"Kristin's all right really," says Steinn in her defense. "She fights like a lion for the gallery. She's an outstanding fund-raiser, has lots of good contacts, and has a nose for exhibitions that will draw the crowds. And it was Kristin who got the Annexe going," he adds. "But she does like parties, especially when the social elite are all there. She knows that the bank director and Elisabet would both give her the cold shoulder if she went public with this now. And boycott the gallerya"the National Bank has given financial support to our exhibitions every year. Maybe she really only intended to bide her time."

"Do you want to bide your time with this?" Hanna asks straight-out, and Steinn doesn't answer.

"I think it would strengthen our case to have two professional opinions," he replies instead. "That of a curator and an art historian. But as things stand, I don't really want this to go beyond the gallery. There's enough of a fuss for now. It would be too damaging for the gallery right now. It would create a mistrust we don't deserve. There's no urgency. These paintings are just sitting here in the bas.e.m.e.nt. We need to let this storm die down first."

Hanna is relieved because she doesn't want another battle just yet. But she recognizes that these paintings are of a different quality than the one they were dealing with in the previous weeks. These are amateurish forgeries and probably wouldn't be hard to verify. Then the gallery could at least make the decision not to display the paintings whether the case went to court or not. They won't go to court over Composition in Blue or The Birches either; the only thing coming out of that debacle is that the gallery gained an original work of art instead of two forged ones. That's maybe not such a bad outcome.

Hanna and Steinn have gotten the pieces of the puzzle before them, but the picture isn't complete. They don't know who painted the forged Composition in Blue from scratch, from Sigfus Gunnarsson's sketches. And still less who painted a Danish birch wood over Sigfus's Composition in Blue when Christian Holst, the butcher, owned the painting. Nor who bought The Birches from Holst's estate and resold it at auction.

Having put all the paintings back in their place, Steinn looks at Hanna.

"What do you think?" he asks. "Are you up for it?"

Hanna realizes that he wants an ally against Kristin. Steinn can use Hanna for his own ends; she is an outsider, on a temporary contract, and she hasn't worked with Kristin for the five years he has. Hanna doesn't need to give it a second thought before answering yes.

A staff meeting is called just after Hanna and Steinn come back up from the bas.e.m.e.nt. Baldur, Hanna, Steinn, and Agusta are sitting around the meeting table when Kristin arrives. She looks weary and no colorful shawl adorns her shoulders today. Coffee is on the table, and they help themselves in silence. Baldur pours a cup for Hanna, and she smiles at him. When all's said and done, he has proved himself to be the friend he always claimed to be. Baldur looks at her slightly surprised, and Hanna feels ashamed that she's been so cold toward him for no good reason these past months.

Kristin doesn't refer to the unexpected stir over the weekend; she acts as if nothing had happened. She simply talks about how much interest the painting by Friedrich, The Solitary Tree, aroused and how the number of visitors exceeded all expectations. She praises Baldur and Agusta for their hard work in preparing for it, and she praises Hanna for the unusual exhibition in the Annexe; she particularly mentions that a number of people came to her and expressed how pleased they were to see paintings by Haraldur. After the gallery was closed on Sat.u.r.day, the windowpane that Leifur broke with his spectacle was replaced. Kristin stresses that it must not be broken again while the exhibition is running, and Hanna agrees, but she does not apologize for herself or excuse Leifur. She waits for Kristin to talk about the two paintings, but she doesn't mention them, as if the incident had never happened. Hanna doesn't say anything either; occasionally she glances over to Steinn, who is looking down into his coffee cup and doesn't join in the conversation. Finally Kristin announces the meeting is over. They stand up to leave, and, as Hanna is in the doorway, Kristin beckons her over.

"Hanna dear, wait a moment."

Hanna looks at her in surprise but sits back down at the table while the others leave the room.

Kristin does not talk for long, and Hanna hears her out. She thanks Hanna for her good work. Praises her exhibition again and talks about the positive reaction from the public. She refers to how well the gallery and Annexe have worked together since Hanna came. Thanks her for her work with the outdoor works of art. She says that Steinn was right when he recommended her for the job. She then ends by saying what a great shame it is that she cannot keep Hanna on at the gallery. They need to tighten their belts, and at the end of the month Agusta will take over as director of the Annexe. They will take into consideration Hanna's terms of employment, and she will be given substantial severance pay.

Kristin doesn't give Hanna the chance to reply; she just stands up and holds out her hand, repeating that Agusta will take over at the end of the month, in a week's time, before showing her out as politely as possible given what has just taken place.

Hanna pa.s.ses Baldur's office on her way down after the conversation with Kristin. He beckons to her, but she pretends not to hear and hurries on down the stairs. She doesn't know if she is relieved or disappointed, but she is definitely angry. Her phone rings on the stairs. It's the town mayor's office.

"The mayor can meet you in fifteen minutes," says the a.s.sistant, whom Hanna has spoken to many times before, trying to pin the mayor down for a meeting. She nearly bursts out laughing. Is that how business is done at the council? In fifteen minutes? She hesitates before answering. Should she go, help Agusta out before she takes over? Hanna keeps on walking and asks the woman on the other end to hold the line a moment. Finally she answers.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I can't come right now."

When she gets to her desk Agusta is on the phone, Edda is typing fast with one finger, and Steinn is sitting at the computer. She will miss him. A week is a very short time. She looks at the calendar. Not even a week, five days.

She won't say anything to her colleagues yet; maybe they already know about it. She never did become part of this little family, and now she never will.

Sitting down at her computer, Hanna casts her eye over her desk. It's neat and tidy; admittedly there are piles of paper on it, but they are all neatly ordered. The website has been regularly updated. The landscape exhibition extends into June, and then there's the summer exhibition in conjunction with the gallery. Hanna has already decided on two exhibitions for the autumn, but Agusta will have to oversee those now. She glances over to Agusta, who is still on the phone.

It'll be good for the Annexe to have close connections with influential people in the art world, she thinks to herself without sarcasm. Agusta will do a good job.

Hanna is absentminded and cannot concentrate. She looks out at the May sun s.h.i.+ning on the cold blue sea; there are still patches of snow on Mount Esja. Thoughts whirl through her head.

Kari. She must do something for Kari before she goes.

Heba. How happy she will be to see her mom come home earlier than expected. Hanna longs to see her daughter again.

Work. She will have to find herself a new job. Maybe she could go back to her old place. There's no urgent need to think about that. The severance pay that Kristin offered her belies her comments about the need to tighten their belts.

Last but not least, she thinks about Frederico, and she still doesn't know what she wants. Now she needs to make a decision much sooner than she'd antic.i.p.ated. Hanna looks over to Steinn. Well, she won't be able to help him as she'd intended.

It was because of Steinn that she was offered this post. Not because of her international experience in the contemporary art scene or her background as a specialist in Gudrun's landscape paintings. After all that she has achieved in her job abroad in Amsterdam in recent years, she finds this rather ironic.

Steinn thought he was losing his sight; he needed someone to a.s.sist him in exposing the art forgeries. Hanna is sorry not to be able to carry on helping him, but she knows that he will carry on regardless. Steinn highly recommended you when we were looking for someone, Kristin had said. That's what had tipped the balance. And he is utterly indispensable to the gallery.

It's plain to see, Steinn looks after so many aspects of the running of the gallery and he's been there for a long time. If he left, it would take at least two people to replace him. He will obviously carry on despite the commotion over the weekend. Hanna senses that Kristin has a lot of respect for Steinn. He will find a way to reconcile with her.

Later that day Hanna goes out and buys chocolate cakes for their coffee break. She came with chocolate and she will say her good-byes with chocolate.

18.

A CLAUDE GLa.s.s.

Hanna wants to see Kari before she leaves. She has found out through Gudny's contacts that the family has been split up. The children have each been placed with a different family. Kari has been relocated to a new foster family after the first one gave up on him because he kept disappearing. Now he is apprenticed to a couple on a farm. When Hanna gets in touch with them and tells the foster mom that she wants to give Kari a present before she leaves, the woman responds warmly, so Hanna decides to rent a car for the day on the last weekend in May. At the last minute she has another idea. She is nervous about going on her own to meet him. Things didn't exactly go well the last time.

On Sat.u.r.day morning Steinn comes around in his Volvo. He comes up to her flat and waits quietly while Hanna gets ready. This is the first time they have met, or even spoken, outside of work, and the silence between them feels awkward as they both know that it is also the last time they will meet. This awareness casts a shadow over the day that Hanna can't shake off; she avoids looking Steinn straight in the eye, and they are careful not to touch.

This time Steinn is driving; Hanna has a map of the Western District with the name of the farm marked. They drive without stopping on the way. Their conversation is stilted, and Hanna turns on the radio to lighten the atmosphere. She doesn't need to say that she is sorry to be leaving, that they can't continue their investigations together. He knows that.

By midday they've arrived. The farm is in a beautiful setting at the foot of a gra.s.sy slope. There are cows and sheep, hens, a dog, and horses for hire. The foster parents are warm and friendly and invite Hanna and Steinn in to join them at the lunch table, where Kari is sitting with the farmer and a laborer. The farmer's wife serves them their food, and Hanna feels she has gone back in time. They talk about what's in the news, but the conversation is mostly about the sheep and lambs; the lambing is just coming to an end. The farmer and the farm laborer exchange brief bits of news about the ewes and their lambs; they were up all night. Kari sits quietly and doesn't join in the conversation.

After lunch Hanna goes out to fetch two books from the car. One is a history of twentieth-century Western art. The other is an introductory book about graffiti artists. Kari takes the books without a word; he doesn't thank Hanna, doesn't look her in the eye. She thinks about his life, his sisters who are now with their different foster families in Reykjavik. She chokes up and wants to say something, but the words won't come. They sit there in an embarra.s.sed silence with the farmer's wife until Steinn eventually comes to the rescue.

"What have you got there, son?" he asks, and Kari proudly shows him an amateurish tattoo on his right arm, which is peeking out from under his sleeve.

"It's my crew," he says, unabashed. "Our tag."

Steinn nods. "Well done. Did you design it?"

Kari nods silently. Silence envelops him, a silence full of stubbornness, anger, and grief.

"Do you sometimes come into town?" Steinn carries on in his calm manner.

Kari shakes his head glumly. Hanna looks across at the farmer's wife sitting next to Kari, who is following the conversation. Hanna wonders whether they are just using him as cheap labor.

"We go from time to time," she says. "It's not so far," she adds, directing her words at Kari. There is fondness in her tone, and Hanna is relieved. So he's not being made to work. She can't see any other children around.

"Drop in and see me," Steinn says to Kari. "You know where to find me."

Kari stares stolidly at the floor.

"I've got an outside wall for you if you want, you and your crew. You can do what you want on it. It's a large wall around the back, and it's a mess right now because the little taggers never leave it alone. You can do what you like."

Kari doesn't say anything, but he shoots Steinn a look and then turns away, apparently disinterested.

They leave shortly afterward. They get into the car in silence; Steinn drives off and the silence hangs in the air for some time.

"He'll come, maybe," says Steinn eventually. "He'll be drawn. He'll look at those books, although he'll do it when no one is around. You'll see," he says to Hanna encouragingly, but she is looking out of the window, trying to hold back the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She swallows a hard lump in her throat and doesn't say what she's thinking about this broken family whose fate upsets her so.

"Thank you," she says.

Hanna thinks back. To when her father left them, when they suddenly stopped being a family. She surrept.i.tiously dries a tear and, suddenly, without thinking it through or coming to any conscious decision, she cannot wait to be back home.

She feels as if she'd been struck blind, as if she'd not seen what it was that mattered even though she'd been thinking about it all these months. There is no question of breaking up the family. No matter what Frederico has done or may do.

The feeling is so strong and so tangible that she needs to get it out of her system; she cannot go on another second sitting still in the car and so she suggests to Steinn that they stop and get a breath of fresh air. Shortly after Steinn pulls off on a side road. They are in an area of summer cottages with paths through the birch trees, and they set off with nothing further in mind than a short stroll.

Hanna leads the way. The sun comes out from behind the clouds and it's warm and bright. When they reach a bench made from a solid tree trunk beside the path, Hanna takes a seat and closes her eyes against the sun. She's about to leave this country and doesn't know when she'll be back. She feels the sun warming her face. Steinn sits next to her, and, pulling something out of his pocket, he hands it to her. She screws up her eyes against the sun.

"I think this is a good moment." He's handed her a small black box, about the size of her palm.

Hanna looks at him in surprise; it hadn't occurred to her to give Steinn a present.

"Aren't you going to open it?"

She lifts the lid off the box. Inside is a little silver holder, rather like a cigarette case, engraved on the lid. When she opens it she sees a curved, oval mirror. She lifts it out and looks at her reflection, but obviously that is not the idea because she just sees a dark, distorted reflection of herself. Steinn laughs.

"I found this on the auction house's website," he says. "They don't only sell paintings, but all kinds of stuff." Hanna tells him about the Russian dolls and the Chinese tree and how she had wondered what sort of people bought artifacts there.

"So it's people like you."

"I didn't buy it immediately. I'd been aware of it for some time."

Hanna wonders when he'd bought it. Perhaps when Kristin told him Hanna would be laid off? After their meeting with Kristin, when Steinn stayed on? Before? Or later?

That is neither here nor there. Steinn is giving her a unique and beautiful gift, whatever it is.

"I simply had to buy this for you, because it's just what you need."

"What is it exactly?" asks Hanna finally. Steinn takes the mirror, and, lifting it up in front of her face, he shows her how she can capture a mirror image of the landscape behind them. In the mirror it resembles an eighteenth-century painting. Squinting, Hanna smiles.

"Wow! That's marvelous!" She sees the birch trees in the mirror start to look like an old painting.

"It's called a Claude gla.s.s," says Steinn. "People used it in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries to view the landscape. To see the landscape as it looks in Claude's paintings."

Hanna is very familiar with the seventeenth-century landscape artist Claude Lorrain and his paintings. She is still smiling. It's exactly what she needed. She looks at Steinn; now would be the perfect moment to kiss him. She knows he is thinking the same.

19.

AN ARTIST PAYS HIS RENT COPENHAGEN, 1943.

Sitting erect on the light green corduroy sofa, the lady of the house regards her lodger with a questioning look, while the young man, an artist, stands timidly in the doorway. There is a tray on the ornate coffee table next to the sofa with a cup of tea and candies in a crystal bowl. She proffers the bowl; her hand is lily white, soft, and well manicured.

"May I offer you a sweet? You look so downcast."

The artist enters the room hesitantly, stepping cautiously across the s.h.i.+ny parquet flooring, and is careful not to walk on the woven rug. He reaches out and picks up a sweet with his finger and thumb; he is so hungry that his hand is shaking.

"I hope there isn't a problem with the renta"again?" She looks up sharply and contemplates his old worn jacket and the hole in his shoe. "Why don't you take proper care of your appearance?" She picks up her embroidery, which is lying next to her on the sofa; she is not a woman to sit idle.

Her lodger doesn't reply; there is no point. He cannot pay the rent; he is relying on her mercy, on the goodwill of the butcher's wife, who is totally ignorant of art and doesn't know what it is to be hungry. The paintings on the walls around her are from the red-haired woman's collection, the woman who loves art, Elisabeth Hansen, who needed to sell off her whole collection.

But her paintings are not all here, just those that any visitors are already familiar with. The butcher's wife seeks justification for her bourgeois existence through art. She looks for the familiar; she likes what she knows. The role of art is to reveal the bourgeoisie in the most flattering light, to endorse the accepted values of society. If she cannot see what a painting is saying, then it doesn't appeal to her.

An idea suddenly occurs to him.