made out. There were no lights on there now.
With an extreme effort he pushed the larger rock aside. He had already moved the smaller one. He looked down into the exposed hole. A deep hole, just as he remembered it. He had dug it himself. A long time ago. To deal with any eventuality.
He glanced at the suitcase.
* * *
Suddenly she was overcome by tiredness. Suddenly her entire body was like a rag doll. All that roaming around getting lost had done her in. She hardly had the energy to pull the bedspreadback and creep under the covers. The little bedside lamp spread a warm glow over the room and she felt as if she was drifting away. Slowly… and dad Arne drifted up. He shook his head a little when he looked at her.
‘That could have been really nasty.’
‘I know. It was stupid.’
‘It wasn’t like you. You usually know what you’re doing.’
‘I get that from you.’
Then Arne smiled, and Olivia felt tears running down her cheeks. He looked so thin, like he must have looked at the end, when she didn’t see him, when she was in Barcelona, running away.
‘Sleep tight.’
Olivia opened her eyes. Was it Arne who had said that? She shook her head a little and felt how hot her face was, her brow. Was she running a temperature? Bound to happen, wasn’t it? Here. In a cabin on an island off the west coast that I’ve only booked for one night. Can you get more wilderness than that? What should I do now?
Axel?
He might not have gone to bed yet, he lived on his own after all, he’d told her. Perhaps he was sitting up there playing video games. A lobster boy? Hardly. But what if he suddenly knocked on the door and asked if the food was OK?
‘Yeah, it tasted great.’
‘Good. Anything else you need?’
‘No, I’m doing fine thanks. But perhaps a thermometer?’
‘A thermometer?’
Then one thing would have led to another and when the bedside lamp was about to be turned off they would both be naked and terrible horny.
Thought Olivia, feverishly.
* * *
One-eyed Vera had been to a football match.
Situation Sthlm
versus a rehab from Rågsved. The match had ended with
Situation
2–0 up. Pärt had scored both goals.
He’d dine off that for a long time.
Now he was walking along with Vera and Jelle and enjoying the warm night. The match had been played on the Tanto pitch in the south of the city. Because of some bickering afterwards with the referee and some other hassle after the match, they hadn’t moved off until about elevenish. And now it was more like half past eleven.
Pärt was in a buoyant mood, he had after all scored two goals. Vera was in a good mood too, she had found some black nail polish in a skip near Zinken. Jelle was feeling so-so. But that’s how he nearly always felt, so nobody took any notice. There they were making their way through the night, two cheerful and one a bit disheartened.
Vera was hungry and suggested they should look in at Dragon House. The Chinese eatery down at Hornstull. She had just got her monthly pension and considered she could treat her less well-off friends. Pärt refused to enter and Jelle didn’t like Chinese. So instead they feasted on various sausages with accessories at Abraham’s Grill on Hornsgatan. When Pärt had received his generous portion he smiled a little.
‘Now is tasty.’
Then they strolled on along Hornsgatan.
‘Anyone know how things are with Benseman?’
‘No change.’
Suddenly somebody waltzed past them, a very short man without shoulders, a straggly little ponytail and a pointed nose. The man glanced across at Jelle in the midst of his waltzing.
‘Hi there, how’s things?’ said the short man with a decidedly squeaky voice.
‘Teeth bothering me.’
‘OK then. See you around.’
The short man continued his tripping.
‘Who the hell was that?’
Vera looked at the ponytail man.
‘The Mink,’ said Jelle.
‘The Mink? Who’s that?’
‘A guy from the past.’
‘Homeless?’
‘No, not as I know of. He’s got
With an extreme effort he pushed the larger rock aside. He had already moved the smaller one. He looked down into the exposed hole. A deep hole, just as he remembered it. He had dug it himself. A long time ago. To deal with any eventuality.
He glanced at the suitcase.
* * *
Suddenly she was overcome by tiredness. Suddenly her entire body was like a rag doll. All that roaming around getting lost had done her in. She hardly had the energy to pull the bedspreadback and creep under the covers. The little bedside lamp spread a warm glow over the room and she felt as if she was drifting away. Slowly… and dad Arne drifted up. He shook his head a little when he looked at her.
‘That could have been really nasty.’
‘I know. It was stupid.’
‘It wasn’t like you. You usually know what you’re doing.’
‘I get that from you.’
Then Arne smiled, and Olivia felt tears running down her cheeks. He looked so thin, like he must have looked at the end, when she didn’t see him, when she was in Barcelona, running away.
‘Sleep tight.’
Olivia opened her eyes. Was it Arne who had said that? She shook her head a little and felt how hot her face was, her brow. Was she running a temperature? Bound to happen, wasn’t it? Here. In a cabin on an island off the west coast that I’ve only booked for one night. Can you get more wilderness than that? What should I do now?
Axel?
He might not have gone to bed yet, he lived on his own after all, he’d told her. Perhaps he was sitting up there playing video games. A lobster boy? Hardly. But what if he suddenly knocked on the door and asked if the food was OK?
‘Yeah, it tasted great.’
‘Good. Anything else you need?’
‘No, I’m doing fine thanks. But perhaps a thermometer?’
‘A thermometer?’
Then one thing would have led to another and when the bedside lamp was about to be turned off they would both be naked and terrible horny.
Thought Olivia, feverishly.
* * *
One-eyed Vera had been to a football match.
Situation Sthlm
versus a rehab from Rågsved. The match had ended with
Situation
2–0 up. Pärt had scored both goals.
He’d dine off that for a long time.
Now he was walking along with Vera and Jelle and enjoying the warm night. The match had been played on the Tanto pitch in the south of the city. Because of some bickering afterwards with the referee and some other hassle after the match, they hadn’t moved off until about elevenish. And now it was more like half past eleven.
Pärt was in a buoyant mood, he had after all scored two goals. Vera was in a good mood too, she had found some black nail polish in a skip near Zinken. Jelle was feeling so-so. But that’s how he nearly always felt, so nobody took any notice. There they were making their way through the night, two cheerful and one a bit disheartened.
Vera was hungry and suggested they should look in at Dragon House. The Chinese eatery down at Hornstull. She had just got her monthly pension and considered she could treat her less well-off friends. Pärt refused to enter and Jelle didn’t like Chinese. So instead they feasted on various sausages with accessories at Abraham’s Grill on Hornsgatan. When Pärt had received his generous portion he smiled a little.
‘Now is tasty.’
Then they strolled on along Hornsgatan.
‘Anyone know how things are with Benseman?’
‘No change.’
Suddenly somebody waltzed past them, a very short man without shoulders, a straggly little ponytail and a pointed nose. The man glanced across at Jelle in the midst of his waltzing.
‘Hi there, how’s things?’ said the short man with a decidedly squeaky voice.
‘Teeth bothering me.’
‘OK then. See you around.’
The short man continued his tripping.
‘Who the hell was that?’
Vera looked at the ponytail man.
‘The Mink,’ said Jelle.
‘The Mink? Who’s that?’
‘A guy from the past.’
‘Homeless?’
‘No, not as I know of. He’s got
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