‘I’m sorry, District Commissioner. Mamma and Pabbi, I mean, Margrét and Jón, will return tomorrow. Or the next day. Depending on the weather.’ Steina gestured towards the nearest end of the narrow room, where a grey woollen curtain served as a partition between the badstofa and a tiny parlour. ‘Sit in there,’ she said. ‘I’ll go find my sister.’
Lauga Jónsdóttir, Steina’s younger sister, was weeding the meagre vegetable plot at a little distance from the croft. Bent over her task, she hadn’t seen the District Commissioner arrive, but she heard her sister calling long before she came into sight.
‘Lauga! Where are you? Lauga!’
Lauga rose to her feet and wiped her soiled hands on her apron. She didn’t shout back to her sister, but waited patiently until Steina, running and tripping over her long skirts, spotted her.
‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you!’ Steina cried, out of breath.
‘What on God’s earth is wrong with you?’
‘The Commissioner is here!’
‘Who?’
‘Bl?ndal!’
Lauga stared at her sister. ‘District Commissioner Bj?rn Bl?ndal? Wipe your nose, Steina, you’re snotting.’
‘He’s sitting in the parlour.’
‘Where?’
‘You know, behind the curtain.’
‘You left him there by himself?’ Lauga’s eyes grew wide.
Steina grimaced. ‘Please come and talk to him.’
Lauga glared at her sister, then quickly untied her dirty apron and dropped it beside the lovage. ‘I can’t think of what goes through your head sometimes, Steina,’ she muttered, as they walked quickly towards the croft. ‘Leaving a man like Bl?ndal twiddling his thumbs in our badstofa.’
‘In the parlour.’
‘What difference does it make? I suppose you gave him the servants’ whey to drink, too.’
Steina turned to her sister with a panicked expression. ‘I didn’t give him anything.’
‘Steina!’ Lauga broke into a little trot. ‘He’ll think us peasants!’
Steina watched her sister pick her way through the tussocks of grass. ‘We are peasants,’ she mumbled.
Lauga quickly washed her face and hands, and snatched a new apron from Kristín, the family’s workmaid, who had hidden herself in the kitchen at the sound of a stranger’s voice. Lauga found the District Commissioner seated at the little wooden table in the parlour, reading over a slip of paper. Expressing apologies for her sister’s discourteous reception, she offered him a plate of cold, hashed mutton, which he took gladly, albeit with a slightly injured air. She quietly stood aside as he ate, watching his fleshy lips wrap about the meat. Perhaps her Pabbi was to be promoted from District Officer to an even greater title. Perhaps he would receive a uniform, or a stipend from the Danish Crown. There might be new dresses. A new home. More servants.
Bl?ndal scraped his knife across the plate.
‘Would you like some skyr and cream, District Commissioner?’ she asked, taking the empty dish.
Bl?ndal waved his hands in front of his chest as if to decline, then paused. ‘Well, all right then. Thank you.’
Lauga blushed and turned to fetch the soft cheese.
‘And I would not object to coffee,’ he called after her as she ducked her head around the curtain.
‘What does he want?’ Steina asked, huddling by the fire in the kitchen. ‘I can’t hear anything except you, clomping up and down the corridor.’
Lauga shoved the dirty plate at her. ‘He hasn’t said anything yet. He wants skyr and coffee.’
Steina exchanged looks with Kristín, who rolled her eyes. ‘We have no coffee,’ Steina said quietly.
‘Yes we do. I saw some in the pantry last week.’
Steina hesitated. ‘I . . . I drank it.’
‘Steina! The coffee isn’t for us! We save it for occasions!’
‘Occasions? The Commissioner never visits.’
‘The District Commissioner, Steina!’
‘The servants are coming back from Reykjavík soon. We might have more then.’
‘That’s then. What are we going to do now?’ Exasperated, Lauga pushed Kristín in the direction of the pantry. ‘Skyr and cream! Hurry.’