In the middle of the news item, Susanne’s mobile rang. She could see a long number from abroad on the display, so she made her voice sound hard, just in case it was the kidnappers.

‘This is Susanne.’

‘Hi Mum, it’s Daniel. I’m free.’

‘What … is that Daniel?’ repeated Susanne, although she immediately recognized his voice.

They were both weeping so much that they could hardly hear what the other was saying.

‘I’m fine, Mum,’ sobbed Daniel. ‘Everything’s OK.’ Then he asked the three questions he had been thinking about for a long time.

‘Is Signe still there?’

‘Yes, she’s been so sweet.’

‘Have you sold everything you own to free me?’

‘No, we haven’t.’

‘Has Christina finished high school or has she dropped out?’

‘No, she’s working hard to finish her final exams.’

Susanne told him how good everyone had been and that no one had paid more than they could afford for the ransom.

‘Say hello to everyone,’ said Daniel.

‘Arthur’s coming to get you,’ said Susanne.

‘Who’s Arthur?’

‘The man you talked to before you went to Syria. Anita’s also in Turkey waiting for you.’

‘Mum, I have to go. Toni also wants to call home.’

Susanne immediately sent a message to Arthur that Daniel was at the border. Then she called Kjeld, who didn’t answer. Christina didn’t pick up her phone either. Signe answered and was given the news, and then Susanne managed to get hold of Kjeld. He swallowed a quick celebratory beer with his gymnastics friends and hurried home to Susanne, who had already opened a bottle of red wine, while the phone rang off the hook and friends and neighbours came by with champagne.

They were both fairly tipsy and very relieved when they fell asleep that night.

· * ·

Daniel wiped his eyes and went back into the guard room. He sat down on the sofa and tried to follow the World Cup match. But the players looked blurry on the little television, because he didn’t have his glasses. He looked at Toni, who was totally absorbed in the game.

‘Do you want to borrow the phone, Toni?’ he asked, but the German shook his head and took a bite of the kebab he had been given.

Daniel was restless and wanted to call home again. This time he got his father on the other end.

‘It’s good to hear you’re back,’ said Kjeld quietly and with relief.

The Internet didn’t work in Anita’s hotel room in Kilis, so she didn’t get the message from Susanne about Daniel’s release. It wasn’t until half an hour after Daniel’s call that the crisis psychologist and the representative from the Danish Foreign Ministry knocked on her door and told her that something was happening.

They also said that Arthur was speeding towards the border at 120 miles an hour.

Anita took a bath. Her stomach was so jumpy that she had to take some of the diarrhoea pills she had brought for Daniel. Then she sat on the bed and waited.

A white car drove up and pulled into the covered car park in front of the Turkish border control. A tall man stepped out from the driver’s seat. Daniel squinted and recognized Arthur, who rushed towards him with a broad smile. When he reached Daniel, he stretched out his arms and embraced him.

‘My, am I glad to see you, man! You idiot,’ said Arthur, with the emphasis on ‘man’ and ‘idiot’.

‘I didn’t know it was you who was looking for me!’ exclaimed Daniel.

‘Yes, it’s been me ever since your father called when you didn’t come back,’ said Arthur, fishing out a pair of glasses from his pocket and handing them to Daniel.

Suddenly, Daniel could clearly see the faces staring at him. Arthur wasn’t alone. Beside him stood a doctor, a man from Danish Intelligence (PET) and some Germans with gelled hair and polished shoes who had come for Toni.

The doctor immediately shone a light in Daniel’s eyes and took his pulse.

‘Are you hungry or thirsty?’ asked the doctor.

Daniel shook his head. Arthur was keeping his distance and had lit his pipe. As everyone was preparing to leave, Daniel and Toni shook hands and gave each other a pat on the back as a farewell.

‘Have a good trip home,’ said Daniel and went and sat with the doctor in Arthur’s car.

They drove to the first stop on their way, the local police station, where Daniel had to make a report. The local officers didn’t bat an eye.

‘Do you want to make a complaint against those who have been detaining you?’

‘No,’ replied Daniel, signing the report that declared he had been released.

Daniel glanced over at Arthur, who was leaning against a wall, looking pleased.

The PET agent had to gather evidence. He took pictures of the bruises on Daniel’s torso and the scars on his ankle and wrists. Daniel’s clothes were placed in sealed bags for later DNA testing and Daniel helped by setting up the camera, so that the marks from his torture became clearer under the dim lighting.

He was handed a pair of board shorts and a loose T-shirt to replace the tiny shirt and olive-coloured trousers he had been given. Then they proceeded to a local hospital, where a senior doctor examined him rather superficially before writing a report.

The rumour had clearly already spread among Turkish journalists that ISIS had released two hostages. Local film crews turned up outside the hospital’s main entrance and Daniel wore a cap and sunglasses as he was taken straight to a car, which had pulled up in front of the entrance, and away from the glare of the lights.

When they were finally able to head towards the hotel in Gaziantep, Daniel remembered that he had talked with his fellow prisoners about what music each of them wanted to listen to when they were sitting safely in a car on their way out of Syria.

‘Do you have any music, Arthur? Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd, for example?’ he asked.

Arthur looked for Pink Floyd on his iPhone.

‘No, unfortunately, I don’t,’ he said.

However, he had saved Signe’s mobile number and gave the phone to Daniel, who had spent so much time thinking about her. After the ringing tone had sounded a few times, he heard her voice in his ear. She was out for a walk alone and began crying. She told him that she had bought an apartment.

‘Is there room for one more in that apartment?’

‘No, well, I don’t know … I heard that you’ve put on weight.’

It didn’t sound like a joke. Daniel could feel the distance between them.

‘I’ve been exercising a lot in there, so I’m not at all fat any more.’ He ended the conversation by saying, ‘See you when I get home.’

He sat quietly for a moment. It had been the most awkward conversation of his entire life.

The representative from the Foreign Ministry and the crisis psychologist met Daniel at the hotel entrance. They introduced themselves and followed him up to his room, while Anita waited in the adjoining room.

‘May I see her soon or what?’ asked Daniel eagerly.

He felt that they were all trying to size him up and that there was an unknown plan that they were following to the letter, but the only thing he wanted was to see his sister. Finally, the door to Anita’s room opened.

They stood in a long embrace, surrounded by the others.

‘I’ve talked to Signe – it didn’t go too well,’ said Daniel.

Anita didn’t comment, but just looked at her brother, who had a beard, was as white as a ghost and had visible scars snaking around his wrists and one ankle.

When Arthur also gave Anita a long hug of relief, Daniel said, ‘That’s a bit strange, you two. How come you know each other?’ and laughter broke out.

It was around midnight when the Foreign Ministry issued the press release that the family and Arthur had helped to write.

The 25-year-old Danish photographer Daniel Rye Ottosen from Give has been released after having been detained in Syria since 17 May last year, when he travelled to Syria to photo-document the conflict and the living conditions of the civilians – especially the children.