Blog Tour: ‘Betrayal’ by Lilja Sigurdardottir – Extract

Welcome to my stop on the blog tour organised by Random Things Tours for ‘Betrayal’ by Lilja Sigurdardottir.

I’m pleased to be able to present to you an extract from this tense, Icelandic thriller which was published by Orenda Books on 15th October, 2020.

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From the Publisher:

Burned out and traumatised by her horrifying experiences around the world, aid worker Úrsula has returned to Iceland. Unable to settle, she accepts a high-profile government role in which she hopes to make a difference again.

But on her first day in the post, Úrsula promises to help a mother seeking justice for her daughter, who had been raped
by a policeman, and life in high office soon becomes much more harrowing than Úrsula could ever have imagined. A homeless man
is stalking her – but is he hounding her, or warning her of some danger? And the death of her father in police custody so many
years rears its head once again.

As Úrsula is drawn into dirty politics, facing increasingly deadly threats, the lives of her stalker, her bodyguard and even a witch-like cleaning lady intertwine. Small betrayals become large ones, and the stakes are raised ever higher…

The award-winning internationally bestselling author Lilja Sigurðardóttir returns with Betrayal, a relevant, powerful, fast-paced thriller about the worlds of politics, police corruption and misogyny that feels just a little bit too real…

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The Extract:

Úrsúla was surprised at her own surprise: she was taken aback by just how much of a shock the note was. She was already kicking herself for having forgotten to lock the car. It hadn’t occurred to her that by parking in the spot marked Minister, she was telling everyone which vehicle was hers. Clearly every fruitcake in the country had an opinion on everything imaginable, and that seemed to include her appointment as minister of the interior.

The devil’s friend loses his soul and brings down evil, the note read, the last few words an almost illegible scrawl. It looked like someone had decided she had made friends with the devil himself.

There was nothing unusual about politicians being lambasted for entering into coalitions with people someone was unhappy with, but as she was not linked to any party, she had somehow imagined that this kind of criticism wouldn’t come her way. All the same, people ought to be used to seeing political parties working together when the parliamentary term was so far advanced, and anyway she’d simply been called in to finish the work begun by Rúnar. She screwed the note into a ball and flicked it aside, and it was lost among the mess of paper, juice cartons and sweet wrappers that filled the footwell. She reminded herself that this weekend the car would need to be cleaned as the smell was becoming overpowering. She sighed and tried to relax, to let her racing heartbeat slow. She had been aware before taking the job that she wouldn’t be popular with everyone and that she’d get to hear about it. But the note in the car had still been upsetting. Somehow it was too close to home, too personal. In future she’d leave the car in the other car park with all the others.

As she parked outside her house, she wound the window shut – the smell in the car had forced her to drive home with it halfway open. There had to be half a sandwich turning green somewhere down there, or something in the junk in the back. She’d have to ask Nonni to clean the car. Judging by the emails waiting for her and the long jobs list, there wouldn’t be much opportunity to do it herself. This weekend would have to be spent getting herself up to speed on everything the ministry did.

‘Congratulations, my love!’ Nonni called out as she opened the front door. ‘You made it through day one!’

Kátur bounced towards her, his furry body twitching with delight at seeing her again, and as usual she dropped to her knees to greet him. She held his little head in both hands, kissed the top of his head and breathed in the smell of newly bathed dog. Nonni regularly gave him a bath and used shampoo on him, even though Úrsúla had warned that it wasn’t good for dogs.

‘Lovely to see you, Kátur,’ she whispered into his fur as his tail wagged furiously. There was no limit to how much she loved this little dog. He had kept her sane when she had moved back home, becoming the compass that showed her the way back to love. He had helped her put aside her weapons and lower the defences she had erected around herself somewhere between the Ebola epidemic in Liberia and the refugee camps in Syria.

The dog wriggled from her arms, ran halfway along the hall into the apartment, and then back to her. That was what he always did, scampering between her and the family, as if he were showing her the way home to them. This was guidance she certainly needed, as since moving back to Iceland she had felt at a distance from them, as if they were on the far side of some invisible barrier that she had been unable to break through.

She took a deep breath, taking in the warmth of the household, and for a moment she was gripped by a doubt that she had done the right thing by jumping into a ministerial role. There was no getting away from the fact that it would mean less time at home, less energy to devote to the children, less time for Nonni. There would be less time for her own emotional recovery. But it was only for a year, the twelve remaining months of the parliamentary term.

‘Pizza!’ the children chorused the moment she stepped into the kitchen. They were busy arranging toppings on pizza bases, and she could see Nonni was preparing a seafood pizza just for the two of them. There was an open bottle of white wine on the worktop, a glass had been poured for her, and the dining table was set with candles.

‘You’re a dream,’ she sighed, kissing the children’s heads and wrapping her arms around Nonni. He was warm to the touch, freshly shaved and sweet-smelling, and she felt her heart soften with gratitude, blended with doubt that she genuinely deserved such a perfect man. This was how it had been for more than a year. Every time she felt a surge of warmth and affection towards him, it was accompanied by an immediate surge of bad feeling. There was guilt, regret and self-loathing. Why couldn’t she simply love him as she had loved him before?

‘So how’s it looking?’ he whispered and handed her a glass of wine.

She sat on a barstool and sipped. She’d tell him tonight, when the children had taken themselves off to bed. She would tell him how the day had begun, how she had been prepared for the first interview of the day, expecting to be getting to grips with complex and demanding issues, only to be faced with such a painful and difficult personal case.

The face of the mother who had sat opposite her that morning, rigid with anger and sorrow, remained vividly in her mind. As she watched her own daughter arrange strips of pepper to form a pattern on a pizza, she felt a stab of pain in her heart: she was only two years younger than the girl who had been raped.

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About the Author:

Icelandic crime-writer Lilja Sigurdardóttir was born in the town of Akranes in 1972 and raised in Mexico, Sweden, Spain and Iceland. An award-winning playwright, Lilja has written four crime novels, including
Snare, Trap and Cage, making up the Reykjavik Noir trilogy, which have hit bestseller lists worldwide. The film rights have been bought by Palomar Pictures in California. She lives in Reykjavík with her partner.

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Praise for Lilja Sigurdardottir:

‘Tough, uncompromising and unsettling’
Val McDermid

‘Stylish, taut and compelling and a film adaptation is in the pipeline. With characters you can’t help sympathising with against your better judgement, Sigurdardottir takes the reader on a breathtaking ride’
Daily Express

‘ The seamy side of Iceland is uncovered in this lively and original debut as divorcee Sonja finds herself coerced into drug trafficking while her banker girlfriend Agla fends off a criminal investigation
in the aftermath of the financial crash. Tense, edgy and delivering more than a few unexpected twists and turns’
The Sunday Times Crime Club Star Pick

‘A tense thriller with a highly unusual plot and interesting characters’
The Times

‘One of the darkest and most compelling series in modern crime fiction…Tackling topical issues, Cage will tell you a great deal about why the world’s in the state it is, while never neglecting its duty to
entertain’
S Magazine

‘ The key to Sigurðardóttir ’s writing is her deep empathy for her characters. Like in Sallis’s work, these are ordinary people having to face the vagaries that life throws at them. In this instance, she writes lucidly about the power of corporations, and the ease with which our current societal
systems can become brutally corrupted. In keeping with a lot of Icelandic fiction, Cage is written in a clean, understated style, the author letting the reader put together the emotional beats and plot developments. Smart writing with a strongly beating heart’
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