2

It was a beautiful villa. Although the funds for renovation had not extended to a more reverential restoration—they had simply replaced the original eight-paned windows by H Windows with crossbars attached—the house and its spires towered imposingly over nearly four acres of ground. The brick walls were painted beige, but with decorative timber in green, in the Swiss style. Two entire large floors had been divided five years previously, with two living rooms, a conference room, kitchen, bathroom, laundry room, and a room they named the library, though in fact it was a kind of records room, on the ground floor. On the upper floor there were six bedrooms for the children, but several of them were double rooms and a couple of the single rooms were now pressed into service as homework rooms and common rooms. In addition, there was a staff bedroom. At the end of the corridor, to the right of the staircase, lay the director’s office. Immediately across the hall was an enormous bathroom with a bathtub, as well as a smaller one with a shower and toilet. In addition to the good use of space on these two floors, there was an entire basement and a spacious, high-ceilinged attic. Following a fire inspection a few years earlier, ladders were installed at the windows at either end of the corridor, and there was a fire rope in every bedroom.

The youngsters loved fire drills. All except Kenneth. And now Olav. The former sat in the middle of the corridor, crying and clinging to the wall-mounted fire extinguisher. Olav stood with his legs apart, truculent, with his bottom lip more prominent than ever.

“No fuckin’ way,” he said petulantly. “No fuckin’ way am I going down that rope.”

“The ladder, then, Olav,” Maren offered. “The ladder’s not so scary. Also, you must get rid of that swearing very soon. You’ve been here for three weeks already, and your entire allowance is disappearing because of that!”

“Well then, go on, Olav.”

It was Terje who was prodding him in the back. Terje was in his thirties and, on paper at least, the assistant director.

“I’ll go right in front of you. Underneath you, in a way. So if you fall, I’ll be there to catch you. Okay?”

“Not fuckin’ likely,” Olav said, taking a step back.

“Ten kroner says the idiot doesn’t dare,” Glenn shouted from outside the window, having already climbed up and down four times.

“What will you do if the place starts to burn down?” Terje asked. “Are you going to burn to death?”

Olav stared at him maliciously.

“You couldn’t care less about that! Mum lives in a concrete apartment block. I could just move there, for instance.”

Shaking his head, Terje gave up and let Maren take over with the stubborn child.

“What is it you’re frightened of?” she asked quietly, indicating they should move into Olav’s room.

He reluct