The first time the Brenden-Haaland family marked the start of a new school year by eating out, Julie had just been born and they were forced to abandon their celebration before the waiter had even brought the menus. Little Julie screamed her head off and refused to be consoled. At home they could cope with a crying baby, but in public was another matter.
The following year was more successful. Thorleif managed to eat almost half his food before they had to leave. The third year was even better when Julie insisted on having her own meal and swallowed four or five mouthfuls before declaring she had had enough. Today, as Pal proudly announces that he is now in Year Four, Thorleif is actually starting to think that his family can behave like civilised people in a restaurant and enjoy a meal without ruining the experience for the other diners.
They follow a petite young woman with short hair down the stairs at Pizza Di Mimmo, who seats them in the furthest possible corner. Once they have ordered, a sort of calm descends upon their table.
‘Do you know what happened to me today?’ Elisabeth says with an animated expression.
‘No?’ Thorleif replies.
‘I was interviewed.’
‘Who by?’
‘ Aftenposten, I think it was. It was one of those “Your Say” features.’
‘I didn’t know Aftenposten still did that.’
‘Neither did I.’
Elisabeth beams. ‘The topic was crime and immigration, I think. Or maybe it was the other way around. Or it might have been organised crime, I don’t know. Anyway, I was asked if I or anyone in my family has ever felt threatened. I answered no — of course.’
‘Did they ask you anything else?’
‘I can’t really remember.’
Thorleif looks at her while she thinks about it.
‘Yes, now I can. The question was, “How far are you willing to go to protect your family?”’
Thorleif looks at her. ‘Is this a joke?’
‘No.’
‘And what did you reply?’
‘What do you think? I would do whatever it takes, of course. Wouldn’t you?’
Thorleif nods slowly. He used to laugh at people who claimed they would do whatever it took to protect their girlfriend or children — or both. He seriously doubted that they meant what they said or had any idea what it might involve. So he never used the expression himself.
Not until he had children of his own.
‘When are they running it?’ he asks.
‘Tomorrow, I think.’
‘Then we had better get up early,’ he says and smiles. In the mirror the short-haired waitress approaches with bouncy steps. He straightens up a little and looks at Julie’s expectant face. She makes only sporadic contact with the seat underneath her. Pal licks his lips. Thorleif gazes at his children. Until the moment when something deep inside him starts to melt.