“Well, if you’re gonna be a pussy about it,” Astrid says cheerfully, “then sure, yeah. You could water it down. Maybe cranberry juice or elderflower cordial or something could work if you needed a juice.”

She pours herself a thimbleful, and then looks ruminatively into the slightly cloudy liquid. “The first boy I ever hooked up with, we were drunk on akvavit, and he taught me to take it all down in one go.” A beat, and something sheepish flickers across her face. “Erm. The akvavit, I mean.”