‘When we move to the country I want a cat,’ she said.
‘Cat!’ Heidi said, pointing.
I steered the buggy over the kerb onto the road to pass three people walking so damned slowly, probably thought they owned the pavement, walked a few metres as fast as I could and steered back onto the pavement after we had passed them.
‘That could be a long way off, you know, Vanja,’ I said.
‘You can’t keep a cat in an apartment,’ she said.
‘Exactly,’ Linda said.
Vanja looked ahead again. She was squeezing the bag containing the present with both hands.
I looked at Linda.
‘What was his name again, Stella’s father?’
‘My mind’s gone blank…’ she said. ‘Oh, it was Erik, wasn’t it?’
‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘What was his job again?’
‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘Something to do with design.’
We went past Gottgruvan and both Vanja and Heidi leaned forward to look through the window. Next door was a pawnbroker’s. The shop beside that sold a variety of small statues and jewellery, angels and Buddhas, as well as joss sticks, tea, soap and other New Age knick-knacks. Posters hung in the windows giving information about when yoga gurus and well known clairvoyants were coming to town. On the other side of the street was a clothes shop with cheap brands, Ricco Jeans and Clothing, FASHION FOR THE WHOLE FAMILY, beside it was Taboo, a kind of ‘erotic’ boutique luring passers-by with dildos and dolls in various negligees and corsets in the window by the door, hidden from the street. Next to it was Bergman Bags and Hats, which must have remained unchanged in terms of interior and range from the day it was founded in the 40s, and Radio City, which had just gone bankrupt but where you could still see a window full of illuminated TV screens, surrounded by a wide selection of electrical goods, with prices written on large almost luminous orange and green bits of cardboard. The rule was that the further you advanced up the street, the cheaper and more dubious the shops became. The same applied to the people frequenting the area. Unlike in Stockholm, where we had also lived in the centre, the poverty and misery which existed here were visible in the street. I liked that.
‘Here it is,’ Linda said, stopping by a door. Outside a bingo hall a little further on three pale-skinned women in their fifties stood smoking. Linda’s gaze glided down the list of names beside the intercom; she pressed a number. Two buses thundered past one after the other. Then the door buzzed, and we went into the dark hallway, parked the buggy by the wall and went up the two flights of stairs to the flat, me with Heidi in my arms, Linda holding Vanja’s hand. The door was open when we arrived. The inside of the flat was dark too. I felt a certain unease walking straight in, I would have preferred to ring, that would have made our arrival more obvious, because now we were standing in the hall without anyone paying us the slightest attention.
I set Heidi down and took off her jacket. Linda was about to do the same with Vanja, but she protested: her boots were to come off first, then she could put on her golden shoes.
There was a room on either side of the hall. In one, children were playing excitedly; in the other some adults were standing around talking. In the hall, which continued deeper into the flat, I saw Erik standing with his back to us chatting to a mother and father from the nursery.
‘Hello!’ I said.
He didn’t turn. I laid Heidi’s jacket on top of a coat on a chair and met Linda’s eye. She was looking for somewhere to hang Vanja’s jacket.
‘Shall we go in then?’ she said.
Heidi wrapped her arms round my leg. I lifted her up and took a few steps forward. Erik turned.
‘Hi,’ he said.
‘Hi,’ I replied.
‘Hi, Vanja!’ he said.
Vanja turned away.
‘Aren’t you going to give Stella her present?’ I asked.
‘Stella, Vanja’s here!’ Erik said.
‘You do it,’ Vanja said.
Stella got up from the group of children on the floor. She smiled.
‘Happy birthday, Stella!’ I said. ‘Vanja’s got a present for you.’
I looked down at Vanja. ‘Do you want to give it to her?’
‘You do it,’ she said in a low voice.
I took the present and passed it to Stella.
‘It’s from Vanja and Heidi,’ I said.
‘Thank you,’ she said, and tore off the paper. When she saw it was a book she put it on the table next to the other presents and went back to the other children.
‘Well?’ said Erik. ‘Everything OK?’