to come and perform for me,” she said.
“Yes,” said Joel. “When I’ve finished practicing.”
Then he rushed out into the hall and started pulling on his boots. He couldn’t keep control of his bladder for much longer. She was standing in the doorway to the living room, watching him.
As he was putting on his jacket, Joel noticed that one of his mittens was in danger of falling out of his pocket. That gave him an idea. She had withdrawn into the living room in order to stub out her cigarette. Joel took out the mitten and hid it behind some wooly hats lying on the shelf. Now he had an excuse to come back again. And when he did, he would make sure he didn’t need a pee.
“Pass on greetings to Digby,” she said. “I hope he’s soon better.”
“He will be, don’t worry,” said Joel.
He opened the door. Then he turned round.
“I’d like to learn how to speak with a Stockholm accent,” he said.
“You wouldn’t be able to do that,” she said.
“I can do anything,” said Joel. Then he closed the door and raced down the stairs with the catalog in his hand.He came out into the street and pressed himself close to the wall.
There were times when having a pee was the most satisfactory thing in life.
Then he headed for home. He was already looking forward to the next day. He noticed that he was bouncing like a ball again. It didn’t matter anymore that his boots were too small. He would buy some new ones. And when he went back Sonja Mattsson would be sitting in her armchair, smoking. When he sang and played for her the first time, she would start screaming and pulling at his clothes.
He tried to think of the last time he’d been in such a good mood as this. But he couldn’t remember.
He cleared the staircase in three almighty jumps, and barged in through the door. Samuel would be sitting there next to the wireless, and Joel would sit down beside him. He wouldn’t say a word about Sonja Mattsson. Nor would he mention the fact that he’d started toughening himself up and had decided to become a rock idol.
All he wanted was for Samuel to see what a really happy person looked like.
That was something he could do with, after a long, strenuous day out in the forest.
But Joel stopped dead when he came to the kitchen.
Samuel wasn’t at home.
He felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach.Samuel was always at home, except on Wednesdays, when he stopped over at Sara’s.
Samuel was always at home. Unless…
Joel didn’t have the strength to follow that thought through.
If Samuel wasn’t at home, he must be drinking. If he was drinking, he could turn up at any time of day or night.
Joel shuddered at the thought. Surely Samuel hadn’t started drinking again? Everything had been going so well ever since he’d met Sara.
His fear changed into anger. This simply couldn’t be the case, surely?
He checked Samuel’s bedroom. Nobody asleep in the bed.
What Joel wanted to do most of all was to cry. That confounded Samuel always spoiled everything when Joel was feeling happy.
Joel put his wooly hat back on and trudged down the stairs. He paid no attention to all the creaking.
He emerged into the empty streets and started looking for Samuel. It was like looking for a ship that had been stranded on a deserted beach. When Samuel had been drinking, he was like a shipwrecked sailor.
Joel didn’t need to search for long. On the hill leading up to the station he saw a shadowy figure staggering to wards him. It was Samuel, who was barely capable of standing up.
Joel ran towards him. He caught up with him underneath a streetlamp. Samuel’s eyes were bloodshot.
He was drunk.
But Joel noticed something else.
Samuel was devastated.
Something must have happened.
“You’ve come to meet me, have you?” said Samuel, his voice slurred.
“Yes,” said Joel. “Let’s go home now.”
He supported Samuel and led him along the street.
He had found his shipwrecked father.
— ELEVEN —
Joel made
“Yes,” said Joel. “When I’ve finished practicing.”
Then he rushed out into the hall and started pulling on his boots. He couldn’t keep control of his bladder for much longer. She was standing in the doorway to the living room, watching him.
As he was putting on his jacket, Joel noticed that one of his mittens was in danger of falling out of his pocket. That gave him an idea. She had withdrawn into the living room in order to stub out her cigarette. Joel took out the mitten and hid it behind some wooly hats lying on the shelf. Now he had an excuse to come back again. And when he did, he would make sure he didn’t need a pee.
“Pass on greetings to Digby,” she said. “I hope he’s soon better.”
“He will be, don’t worry,” said Joel.
He opened the door. Then he turned round.
“I’d like to learn how to speak with a Stockholm accent,” he said.
“You wouldn’t be able to do that,” she said.
“I can do anything,” said Joel. Then he closed the door and raced down the stairs with the catalog in his hand.He came out into the street and pressed himself close to the wall.
There were times when having a pee was the most satisfactory thing in life.
Then he headed for home. He was already looking forward to the next day. He noticed that he was bouncing like a ball again. It didn’t matter anymore that his boots were too small. He would buy some new ones. And when he went back Sonja Mattsson would be sitting in her armchair, smoking. When he sang and played for her the first time, she would start screaming and pulling at his clothes.
He tried to think of the last time he’d been in such a good mood as this. But he couldn’t remember.
He cleared the staircase in three almighty jumps, and barged in through the door. Samuel would be sitting there next to the wireless, and Joel would sit down beside him. He wouldn’t say a word about Sonja Mattsson. Nor would he mention the fact that he’d started toughening himself up and had decided to become a rock idol.
All he wanted was for Samuel to see what a really happy person looked like.
That was something he could do with, after a long, strenuous day out in the forest.
But Joel stopped dead when he came to the kitchen.
Samuel wasn’t at home.
He felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach.Samuel was always at home, except on Wednesdays, when he stopped over at Sara’s.
Samuel was always at home. Unless…
Joel didn’t have the strength to follow that thought through.
If Samuel wasn’t at home, he must be drinking. If he was drinking, he could turn up at any time of day or night.
Joel shuddered at the thought. Surely Samuel hadn’t started drinking again? Everything had been going so well ever since he’d met Sara.
His fear changed into anger. This simply couldn’t be the case, surely?
He checked Samuel’s bedroom. Nobody asleep in the bed.
What Joel wanted to do most of all was to cry. That confounded Samuel always spoiled everything when Joel was feeling happy.
Joel put his wooly hat back on and trudged down the stairs. He paid no attention to all the creaking.
He emerged into the empty streets and started looking for Samuel. It was like looking for a ship that had been stranded on a deserted beach. When Samuel had been drinking, he was like a shipwrecked sailor.
Joel didn’t need to search for long. On the hill leading up to the station he saw a shadowy figure staggering to wards him. It was Samuel, who was barely capable of standing up.
Joel ran towards him. He caught up with him underneath a streetlamp. Samuel’s eyes were bloodshot.
He was drunk.
But Joel noticed something else.
Samuel was devastated.
Something must have happened.
“You’ve come to meet me, have you?” said Samuel, his voice slurred.
“Yes,” said Joel. “Let’s go home now.”
He supported Samuel and led him along the street.
He had found his shipwrecked father.
— ELEVEN —
Joel made
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