A Blessed Child by Linn Ullmann Page A

would serve a soup. Her mobile rang; it was Erika.
    “Have you changed your mind?” Erika asked.
    Erika was sitting in the car. She had crossed the border and stopped at a service station to have a coffee and perhaps take a nap in the car. Remembering that Magnus was in Poland on a school trip to some concentration camps, Laura knew Erika would be thinking about the boy all the time.
    “No,” said Laura. “Or rather, I don’t know. I’ve got so much to do here at home, things I have to sort out.”
    “So you might come after all?”
    “No. It’s difficult, I think. Maybe.”
    “I hope you will.”
    “In that case,” said Laura, “we all ought to come. I’ll ring Molly and ask her what she’s up to these days.”
    “It would give him a shock.”
    “A shock?”
    “It would give him a shock if all three of us showed up at once.”
    Laura suppressed a laugh.
    “Then a shock is what he’ll get.”
    And she added: “It wouldn’t be a bad idea for him to see who we are and to know our names, for him to see us face-to-face before he dies.”
    “He’ll never die,” said Erika, “but he claims this is his epilogue.”
    Laura could hear that Erika was preoccupied with something. Perhaps a paper cup of hot coffee. She hoped her sister wasn’t spilling hot coffee all over herself while driving.
    Erika said: “What is it you’ve got to sort out before you leave?”
    “Sort out?”
    “You said,” Erika reminded her, “that you had something to do at home. Is everything okay?”
    “Everything’s okay, but I think we’re going to sell the house and move.”
    Laura heard Erika sigh. And then: “Why move, then, all of a sudden?”
    “I don’t know,” said Laura. “Because we’re not happy here. All the neighbors are so uptight. They’re virtually forcing an old man to move out because he gives bracelets to little girls around here.”
    “Why does he give bracelets to little girls?”
    “I don’t know,” said Laura.
    She wished the conversation would end.
    “I can understand people feeling uneasy,” said Erika.
    Laura sighed and said: “Yes, but they can’t force a man to move just because they don’t like him.”
    “People do such strange things,” said Erika. “I wouldn’t let Julia accept any more bracelets from that man.”
    “Yes, yes,” said Laura, and changed the subject. “If you’re talking to Lars-Eivind…if you ring here, say, and he happens to answer, don’t mention what I just said about selling the house. It’s not as much of a priority for him at the moment as it is for me, if you see what I mean.”
    “I’ve got to go now,” said Erika.
    “Okay then,” said Laura. “Call me again in a little while and let me know how you’re doing.”
    She raised her head and looked out the window, at the snow covering everything, the grass, the flower beds, the birch tree, the green gate. Later today she was going to spend some time out in the garden with Julia and Jesper. She wouldn’t be in a rush or answer them irritably. She would take her time. As long as Jesper wasn’t feeling too poorly. He was always so sick once he’d gotten a fever; he woke up in the night, crying and saying it hurt, and it was impossible to comfort him. He wasn’t happy at that nursery, either; on the playground, he wandered about on his own with an old man’s frown and didn’t want to play with the other children. Maybe she should have kept him at home today? No, no, it was all right. His cold wasn’t that bad. His face was slightly hot and flushed from traipsing around the living room in his outdoor clothes while she was looking for Julia’s mittens. He’d be fine. Later today she would build a snowman with a carrot nose and a big checked scarf around his neck; she would make waffles and hot chocolate with cream for their supper; she would let them fall asleep in her and Lars-Eivind’s bed, both Julia and Jesper. She would let them sleep there all night and it wouldn’t matter if they