thing.’
She looked away again, at the scudding trees, a face clear as a teenager’s that would not want to give a damn, one corner of her mouth turned up, slangy, defiant, an edge of some tough sensuousness that Dan thought would have made him wary if he’d been a young man involved with her.
They left the car near the coast and began their walk with the late-morning sun out now, warming their backs. Anders talked to the lady with the dog about a snowstorm he was caught in once in the forest here. They were young, he said, he and his girlfriend of the time. The car, his mother’s, stalled in a snow drift. They had to keep the engine going for the heater. Sometime around four o’clock in the morning the petrol ran out. Snow and silence and fifteen degrees below zero. No houses anywhere they knew of. ‘Later that year, when I did my military service up north, I learnt the first thing you do is conserve the fuel. You siphon a little off to start a fire about thirty metres away. Keep breaking off branches and throwing them on. A blaze as big as a house. Sooner or later someone will see it. In the meantime it keeps you warm.’
Ulrika asked him what happened that night.
‘We held hands when our teeth began to chatter and she cried a while. We said if we were going, we’d go together. Then we fell asleep. At first light, a man came through the forest on cross-country skis. He asked us what the hell we thought we were doing, stinking out the place by letting our car run half the night. His wife had had to get up and close the ventilator strip under their bedroom window. Next time, he said, go do your canoodling someplace else. My girlfriend began to cry again. After that he was sorry. He took us to his house, about fifty metres away through the trees. His wife gave us cardamom cake and hot coffee. Their living-room windows overlooked the main road to Stockholm.’
‘And the girlfriend?’ Lena Sundman asked him.
‘She’s married now. Two children. She still says it was the night of a lifetime.’
‘Some life!’ Lena Sundman muttered. If Anders heard her he didn’t make any comment. She wore padded khaki trousers that, like the jacket, could be army surplus though they were probably weren’t.
They had to walk two and two now, following a path close to the water. The surface was rough with jagged stones and for a while keeping their eyes on where they put their feet took their attention. The only sound came from their boots and from the remnants of shore-ice shifting beneath the sun. There was a sign saying they were entering a natural reserve and that dogs had to be kept on a leash. Anders had manoeuvred a little so that he was walking beside Dan, with Lena Sundman ahead and the lady with the dog behind. They walked on in silence for a while. By now Dan realized that Ulrika had been brought for him to meet. It was clear that Ulrika realized it too. It wasn’t like Anders to be so clumsy and it got worse.
‘I’ve been wanting you to meet Ulrika,’ he murmured.
Dan looked straight ahead. What the hell am I doing with these people? he asked himself. Anders didn’t seem to be the same man he had known in Stockholm. Then he remembered that the Anders he had known in Stockholm was the man who had had an affair with Connie. He had already decided not to dwell on that. Why couldn’t he let it be?
After a while the path broadened again and they walked all four together.
‘Do you live on an island out here too?’ Ulrika asked Lena.
‘I’m staying with a relative in Herräng.’
‘Lena lives in Gothenburg,’ Anders said.
‘And what do you do there?’ Ulrika asked.
‘Present perfumes. At congresses and things.’
‘You mean one of these what they call hostesses?’ The way Ulrika said it, it sounded odd but not uninteresting, like an esoteric function in an oriental brothel.
‘That’s me,’ Lena said. Almost but not quite under her breath she said, ‘Hostesses my ass.’
Ulrika looked at her,
She looked away again, at the scudding trees, a face clear as a teenager’s that would not want to give a damn, one corner of her mouth turned up, slangy, defiant, an edge of some tough sensuousness that Dan thought would have made him wary if he’d been a young man involved with her.
They left the car near the coast and began their walk with the late-morning sun out now, warming their backs. Anders talked to the lady with the dog about a snowstorm he was caught in once in the forest here. They were young, he said, he and his girlfriend of the time. The car, his mother’s, stalled in a snow drift. They had to keep the engine going for the heater. Sometime around four o’clock in the morning the petrol ran out. Snow and silence and fifteen degrees below zero. No houses anywhere they knew of. ‘Later that year, when I did my military service up north, I learnt the first thing you do is conserve the fuel. You siphon a little off to start a fire about thirty metres away. Keep breaking off branches and throwing them on. A blaze as big as a house. Sooner or later someone will see it. In the meantime it keeps you warm.’
Ulrika asked him what happened that night.
‘We held hands when our teeth began to chatter and she cried a while. We said if we were going, we’d go together. Then we fell asleep. At first light, a man came through the forest on cross-country skis. He asked us what the hell we thought we were doing, stinking out the place by letting our car run half the night. His wife had had to get up and close the ventilator strip under their bedroom window. Next time, he said, go do your canoodling someplace else. My girlfriend began to cry again. After that he was sorry. He took us to his house, about fifty metres away through the trees. His wife gave us cardamom cake and hot coffee. Their living-room windows overlooked the main road to Stockholm.’
‘And the girlfriend?’ Lena Sundman asked him.
‘She’s married now. Two children. She still says it was the night of a lifetime.’
‘Some life!’ Lena Sundman muttered. If Anders heard her he didn’t make any comment. She wore padded khaki trousers that, like the jacket, could be army surplus though they were probably weren’t.
They had to walk two and two now, following a path close to the water. The surface was rough with jagged stones and for a while keeping their eyes on where they put their feet took their attention. The only sound came from their boots and from the remnants of shore-ice shifting beneath the sun. There was a sign saying they were entering a natural reserve and that dogs had to be kept on a leash. Anders had manoeuvred a little so that he was walking beside Dan, with Lena Sundman ahead and the lady with the dog behind. They walked on in silence for a while. By now Dan realized that Ulrika had been brought for him to meet. It was clear that Ulrika realized it too. It wasn’t like Anders to be so clumsy and it got worse.
‘I’ve been wanting you to meet Ulrika,’ he murmured.
Dan looked straight ahead. What the hell am I doing with these people? he asked himself. Anders didn’t seem to be the same man he had known in Stockholm. Then he remembered that the Anders he had known in Stockholm was the man who had had an affair with Connie. He had already decided not to dwell on that. Why couldn’t he let it be?
After a while the path broadened again and they walked all four together.
‘Do you live on an island out here too?’ Ulrika asked Lena.
‘I’m staying with a relative in Herräng.’
‘Lena lives in Gothenburg,’ Anders said.
‘And what do you do there?’ Ulrika asked.
‘Present perfumes. At congresses and things.’
‘You mean one of these what they call hostesses?’ The way Ulrika said it, it sounded odd but not uninteresting, like an esoteric function in an oriental brothel.
‘That’s me,’ Lena said. Almost but not quite under her breath she said, ‘Hostesses my ass.’
Ulrika looked at her,
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