At that moment he glimpses the buoy up in the light, spins round, cuts the surface and grabs it moments before Daniel and his father arrive.
The sun is half-hidden behind the peak in the west.
– Have you noticed how quickly it gets dark here? Jo observes. He sketches a falling arc in the air. – The sun is directly above you, and then it drops. Like that.
Daniel agrees. – But that’s nothing compared to what it’s like in Tanzania.
– Have you been to Africa?
– Yup. You have to hurry on home once it gets towards evening. There’s never a dusk. It’s like somebody suddenly turns off the light. Everything goes dark. Not a single street lamp. It’s dead cool.
The flagstones are still hot, but not burning hot, not hot enough to raise blisters under the soles of the feet. They’re walking barefoot, towels over their shoulders, shadows in front of them. If Jo stays half a pace ahead, it makes them the same height.
People are already on their way to the restaurant. He’s thinking he must get some food inside him. Avoid being seen with Mother and Arne. Have to make do with sweets.
– Just off to the kiosk.
– I’ll wait by the pool, says Daniel. – We usually meet there before we go for dinner.
When Jo returns, nibbling on a choc ice, there’s a gang sitting around the pool. She’s one of them. Half lying on a sunbed, her back turned. The fat fair-haired girl next to her.
– Pudding before dinner? Cool, says Daniel. – We thought we might do something afterwards.
Ylva turns and glances at Jo. He tosses the half-eaten choc ice into a bin.
– Where are you going?
– Up to the miniature golf. Daniel lowers his voice before continuing. – Maybe go to a café that’s a bit further up the street. You should come with us.
Ylva looks at the fat little girl, who giggles. They’re obviously up for it. Jo stands next to the end of her sunbed and from the corner of his eye, behind the sunglasses, he can see how she lifts her gaze and lets it wander over him. Suddenly he knows that it’s Ylva who has decided that they’re going to ask him along.
– I’m in, he says to Daniel, and watches to see how she reacts. She smiles and looks pleased…
All day the heat has been gathering in him. He hates it being so hot. He could bend down, take her head between his hands, do something or other with it. He takes a quick look at his watch, mutters something about having to get home, heads for the steps with easy strides. Not until he’s past the bar and they can’t see him any more does he start running. Passes the apartment, on round the last house, down to the beach, not stopping until he reaches the water’s edge and the one who stands in the shadows with the sledgehammer raised above his head is drowned out by the breakers that foam in over his feet.
He bumps into Arne in the apartment doorway.
– What have we here? His lordship deigns to put in an appearance.
– I’ve been with a pal, Jo offers.
– Tell people where you are. What sort of holiday is it going to be for us if we’re running round looking for you the whole time?
The question lingers for a few moments.
– Nini’s sick, Arne growls, as though there’s any need to say that. Nini is always sick. Earache and difficulty breathing. She’s always eaten something or other that doesn’t agree with her, or it’s the heat and the air-conditioning that makes her breathing so heavy. Or the kids’ pool hasn’t been properly cleaned. All the things Mother complains about without doing a damned shit about it. – You keep an eye on her while we go and get something to eat.
– Okay, says Jo, relieved not to have to sit with them, and the fact that he agrees at once puts Arne in a better mood.
– We’ll bring some food back for you. Unless you want to pop out afterwards and get something to eat on your own.
– Okay, Jo says again.
– There’s a Coke in the fridge, says Arne, almost friendly now. – But don’t touch any of the other bottles, he adds with a guffaw, giving Jo a friendly punch on the shoulder.
He sits Nini up with cushions on the sofa. She is so short of breath it’s an effort to say anything at all. But there’s a cartoon on one of the TV channels and she’s able to follow that. Mother has left the nebuliser ready. And he can run and fetch her at any time if Nini gets worse… Does she think he’s going to let himself be seen in the dining room with them? Better to go to reception and get hold of a doctor. Or Daniel’s father.
Truls returns after half an hour. He’s carrying two plastic cartons in a bag. Lasagne, and meatballs in sauce.
– Mother and Father will be back shortly, he announces.
Jo snorts. – And you believe that?
– They’re just finishing eating.
Truls is eight and doesn’t understand a thing about the world yet. Jo laughs his head off. Is about to tell him what he thinks. Checks himself. Let him go on believing in Santa Claus a while longer, he thinks, and it makes him feel like a good big brother. Again that thought of taking Truls and Nini somewhere else. Him and Ylva, because she might well come along, after they’ve been to that cave she’s going to show him. Suddenly he’s filled with a furious rage towards Mother and Arne, mostly towards Mother. No one asked him if he would mind sitting the whole evening in the apartment. And he’s no intention of doing that either. Get Nini to sleep, maybe wait for Truls to drop off too, because that never takes long. He intends to go out, no matter how bad Nini is. If she stops breathing and they find her early next morning, lifeless and blue in the face, then it’s their own fault.
He undresses in the bathroom. Stands a moment in front of the mirror, bends forward and looks down his body, down to the navel. If he closes his eyes, he can see Ylva. She’s wearing her bikini, and her bare shoulders are warm. If he wants, he can get her to put her hand on the front of his shorts. I know a place, she says very quietly, because no one else is to hear her. They come to the end of the beach and climb over the jagged rock. No, they walk round it, wade out into the warm water and in towards a bay on the other side. I know a cave, says Ylva, and she feels what has happened down in his shorts and stops and turns towards him, and then they kiss.
He hears the front door open. He freezes, slips in behind the shower curtain, turns it on. The boiling-hot water makes him groan in pain.
– Jo?
– I’m in the shower, he explains, and twists the tap over down to blue.
– Don’t you think it’s a liddle bit late? Mother snuffles. – I thought you’d gone to bed.
He can hear her sitting down on the toilet seat. Can see her outline through the thin curtain.
– Aren’t you going out again? he asks.
– Not while Nini isn’t well, of course not.
She finishes and flushes. He can tell from her voice that soon she’ll be asleep. He turns towards the wall, lets the cold water cascade down. Hears the curtain being pulled aside.
– I am showering, he repeats, quite angry now.
– I can see that, Jo. It certainly doesn’t bother me at all. We always used to shower together before. She steps in and stands behind him. He realises she’s taken off all her clothes.
– Hey, this is ice cold. Are you trying to fweeze to death?
She turns the water back up. It takes a while for it to get warmer.
– There’s no need to be shy with me, Jo. I’m your mother after all, aren’t I? I’ve always given you a good soaping and then rinsened you off and dried you, haven’t I?
She fills her palm with shower oil and begins to rub his shoulders.
– Don’t be shy, Jo. Being naked together is quite natural.
She’s still standing behind him; she puts her arms around his chest and rubs down towards his stomach. Suddenly she bends forward and kisses his neck.