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‘You’re a bastard,’ she says.

‘I’m just trying to get the most out of life,’ he says quietly.

He catches her hand and presses it to his cheek, holding it there and looking into her sorrowful eyes.

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The fire has gone out and the room is freezing cold when Reidar wakes up on the sofa. His eyes are stinging, and he thinks about his wife’s story about the Sandman. The man who throws sand in children’s eyes so that they fall asleep and sleep right through the night.

‘Shit,’ Reidar whispers, and sits up.

He’s naked, and has spilled wine over the leather upholstery. In the distance is the sound of an aeroplane. The morning light hits the dusty windows.

Reidar gets to his feet and sees Veronica lying curled up on the floor in front of the fireplace. She’s wrapped herself in the tablecloth. Somewhere in the forest a deer is calling. The party downstairs is still going on, but is more subdued now. Reidar grabs the half-full bottle of wine and leaves the room unsteadily. A headache is throbbing inside his skull as he starts to climb the creaking oak stairs to his bedroom. He stops on the landing, sighs, and goes back down again. Carefully he picks Veronica up and lays her on the sofa, covers her, then retrieves her glasses from the floor and puts them on the table.

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