‘After he’s seen you like this, you better not count on any hugs and kisses tonight,’ said Erica.
Anna snorted. ‘I doubt it’ll make the slightest difference. But let’s change the subject. It seems a little incestuous to talk about my sex life when my fiancé used to sleep with my sister…’
‘Good Lord, that was a hundred years ago. To be honest, I can’t remember what he looks like naked.’
Anna made a show of sticking her fingers in her ears, and Erica shook her head, laughing.
‘Okay, I promise. Let’s talk about something totally different.’
Anna took her fingers from her ears. ‘So tell me more about Valö. What’s the daughter like? What’s her name? Ebba?’
‘Yes, Ebba,’ said Erica. ‘She’s living there with her husband, Tobias. They’re planning to renovate the place and open a bed and breakfast.’
‘Do you think they can make a go of it? The tourist season is short here.’
‘I haven’t a clue, but I suspect they’re not doing it for the money. The project seems to have a different purpose.’
‘Well, it might work. The place does have potential.’
‘I know. And that’s where you come in.’ Erica pointed at her sister, a hint of excitement in her voice.
‘Me?’ said Anna. ‘How did I get mixed up in this?’
‘You’re not. At least, not yet. But you could be. I’ve had the most amazing idea.’
‘So modest, as always,’ giggled Anna, but her curiosity was aroused.
‘Ebba and Tobias were actually the ones who brought up the subject. They’re good at doing the renovation and manual labour, but they need help with the finishing touches, creating the right sort of ambience. And you’re exactly who they need: you have a flair for interior design, you know antiques, and you have good taste. So you’re the perfect person for the job!’ Erica caught her breath and then took a sip of juice.
Anna could hardly believe her ears. This might be a way to find out if she could work as a freelance interior designer. This could be her first consulting job. She could feel the smile forming on her face.
‘What did you tell them? Do you think they want to hire somebody? Can they afford it? What sort of style do you think they have in mind? It doesn’t have to cost a lot of money. In fact, it would be more fun to go around to country auctions and source good furniture and odds and ends at knockdown prices. I’d think that out there on the island a rather old-fashioned, romantic style would work best, and I know where to get hold of some beautiful fabrics, and…’
Erica raised her hand.
‘Hey, calm down! The answer is no – I didn’t tell them about you. All I said was that I might know someone who could help. I have no idea what their budget is, but why don’t you give them a call? Then we could head out there together and have a meeting with them, if they’re interested.’
Anna narrowed her eyes and looked at Erica.
‘You just want an excuse to go out there again and snoop around.’
‘Maybe… But I also think it’s a brilliant idea for you to meet them. You’d be terrific at this kind of project.’
‘It’s true that I’ve been thinking about starting some sort of business of my own.’
‘So let’s go! I’ll give you their number, and you can call them yourself.’
Anna sensed a spark of something new ignite inside of her. Enthusiasm. That was probably the word that best described it. For the first time in ages she felt truly enthusiastic.
‘Okay, give me the number before I change my mind,’ she said, picking up her mobile.
The interview continued to bother him. It was so frustrating to have to watch what he said and not speak his mind. The journalist he’d talked to this morning was an idiot. Most people were idiots. They refused to see things as they really were, which made his responsibility even greater.
‘Do you think the party will suffer any damage?’ John Holm twirled his wine glass in his hands.
His wife shrugged. ‘Probably not. It’s not one of the major newspapers.’ She tucked her hair behind her ear and put on her glasses to start reading through the stack of documents in front of her.
‘It doesn’t take much for an interview to get picked up by other papers. They’re after us like hawks, always alert for the smallest reason to attack.’
Liv peered at him over the top of her reading glasses. ‘Don’t tell me that you’re surprised. You know who has the power over the media in this country.’
Holm nodded. ‘No need to preach to the choir.’
‘But after the next election, things are going to be different. People will finally wake up to what’s happening in our society.’ She gave him a triumphant smile and went back to leafing through the documents.
‘I wish I had your faith. Sometimes I wonder whether the public will ever understand. Have Swedes grown too lazy and stupid, too multicultural and degenerate to comprehend that the monster is spreading? They might have too little pure blood flowing in their veins for us to have anything worth working for.’
Liv stopped reading. Her eyes glinted as she sized up her husband.
‘Now listen here, John. Ever since we met, you’ve had a very clear goal. You’ve always known what you have to do, what you’re destined to do. If no one listens – well, then you need to speak louder. If someone questions your views – well, then you need to present a better argument. We finally have a seat in parliament, and it’s the people, the very people that you’re now doubting, who have seen fit to put us there. Forget about some minor journalist quibbling over our budget figures. We know that we’re right, and that’s the only thing that matters.’
Holm smiled at her. ‘You sound exactly the same as when I met you at the youth association. Although I have to say that you look better with hair than without.’ He went over and kissed the top of her head.
Aside from her quick temper and fierce rhetoric, there was nothing about his aloof, fashionably dressed wife to remind him of the skinhead in military garb that he’d fallen in love with. But he loved her more than ever now.
‘It’s an article in a local paper, that’s all.’ Liv squeezed his hand, which he’d placed on her shoulder.
‘I suppose you’re right,’ said Holm, but he couldn’t rid himself of an uneasy feeling. He had to carry out the plan he’d set for himself. The monster had to be rooted out, and it was his job to do that. He only wished he had more time.
The bathroom tiles felt wonderful against her forehead. Ebba closed her eyes and let the cool sensation wash over her.
‘Aren’t you coming to bed soon?’
She heard Tobias’s voice from the bedroom but didn’t answer. She didn’t want to go to bed. Every time she lay down next to Tobias, she felt as if she were betraying Vincent. The first month she couldn’t bear to be in the same house with him. She couldn’t even look at Tobias, and if she happened to catch his eye in the mirror, she would turn her face away. She felt nothing but guilt.
Her parents had taken care of her around the clock, watching over her as if she were a baby. They had talked to her, pleaded with her, telling her that she and Tobias needed each other. Finally she had started to believe them, and then she decided to relent because it was easier.
Slowly and reluctantly she had drawn closer to him. She moved home. They had spent those first weeks in silence, afraid of what would happen if they began talking to each other and said something that could never be taken back. Then they’d started to say ordinary things.
‘Please pass the butter.’
‘Have you done the laundry?’