Petra and Nils had reluctantly agreed to come along. Knutas had enticed them by promising they would go out in the boat to fish that evening. Lina got out of the car and let out a delighted shout.
"Oh, how lovely," she said, taking in a deep breath. "Feel the air. Look at the sea."
They all helped to bring in the bags of food. Lina and the children were eager to go down to the beach and swim, but Knutas chose to stay behind and mow the grass, even though the summer had been so dry that it was hardly necessary.
At home in the city, Lina was usually the one who took care of the yard. The difference was that out here in the country he was left in peace. It was calm and quiet, with no neighbors to disturb him. He opened the door to the tool shed, and musty air came billowing out. He dragged out the cumbersome lawn mower and filled it with gasoline. It started up nicely after two tries.
He enjoyed making one lap after another, listening to the clattering of the mower and not thinking about anything in particular. Everyone heard the racket and refrained from bothering him while he was at it. That was why he didn't hurry. He mowed the whole lawn with great care.
The house stood off by itself; there were no neighbors within sight. Outside the fence at the back there was a protected beach cove that was used only by his family, a few neighbors, and occasionally a tourist who had gone astray. The large beach near Lickershamn was far enough away so that they weren't disturbed by any other swimmers, yet it was close enough that the children could walk there on their own if they liked. Knutas thought it was a perfect location.
By the time he was done, his shirt was soaked with sweat, even though the task really didn't require any great physical strength; the lawn mower practically ran itself.
He quickly changed into bathing trunks, grabbed a towel, and went down to the beach, where his family's towels and bathrobes were piled up in a heap. He smiled to himself, studying his family as he waded into the water.
Lina had her long, curly red hair pinned up with a barrette on top of her head. Her swimsuit was brightly colored, with big and little polka dots in various shades of pink against a light blue background. Her fair skin was covered with freckles. She often complained about her weight, and once he had taken her complaints seriously-a mistake that he would never make again. For her birthday he had bought her workout equipment, a gym membership, and an introductory package at Weight Watchers. It was an understatement to say that his wife did not appreciate the gift.
After more than fifteen years together, Knutas could still find himself surprised that they were married when he looked at her. He loved her and her boldness. She cleaned house and cooked with equal frenzy-everything was on a grand scale with Lina. Big carrots, sweeping gestures, lots of noise and commotion. She liked to be seen and heard. She took up a lot of room. Like now, as she splashed around in the water.
After their swim, they had coffee on the porch.
When Knutas saw Lina kick off her wooden clogs and gracefully stretch out her feet, he noticed that even her white ankles had freckles. She closed her eyes and tilted her face toward the sun. He decided not to talk about his job during the weekend.
Smoke from browning meat and the smell of strong spices wafted out of the kitchen and found its way into every nook and cranny. The archaeology students were cooking dinner together. Chili con carne was simmering in a giant pot on the stove, and everyone was pitching in.
They had kept the menu simple so that they'd have time to make Eldkvarn's concert at the hotel's outdoor stage at nine o'clock.
Martina was standing at the counter with Steven and Eva. They were peeling onions, and tears were running down their faces-not just from the onions. After having downed a number of shots of tequila, they were in high spirits and kept laughing at each other's bad jokes.
Twenty students were staying at the youth hostel, and right now they were all in the kitchen. Other guests who popped their heads up the spiral staircase saw at a glance that it would be better to come back later. The three tables were being set, and the coffee table in one corner was littered with bottles and glasses. Someone had brought in a boom box; the volume on the old tape player was obviously turned up too loud and was starting to distort the sound. The heat had prompted someone to open all the windows, and the festivities in the kitchen could be heard far and wide.
Martina was wearing low-cut jeans and a black camisole. Her blond hair hung loose. She rarely used much makeup, well aware that it wasn't necessary. A little mascara and lip gloss, nothing more. She was looking forward to seeing him, and she didn't think that anyone else in the group knew what was going on between them. Occasionally she flirted with someone else, just for the pleasure and amusement of seeing his frustration. They trudged around the excavation site, casting stolen glances at each other. Sometimes he happened to stroke her arm or leg with his hand.
"Come on and help me taste this," said Eva, giving her a poke in the side and holding out a spoon. "Is it spicy enough?"
"It needs a little more," said Martina, adding more chili powder. "It shouldn't be bland."
The concert evening couldn't have been more magnificent. The fiery red ball of the sun balanced on the horizon, turning the sea into a gleaming carpet. The aroma of newly grilled lamb still hovered over the concert area from the dinner that had been served at the hotel, and a diverse audience had gathered in front of the stage. Children ran around playing between the blankets; others were swimming in the mirror-smooth water. A group of older motorcyclists had settled down with beer cans in their hands, waiting to enjoy the music. The soft pop-rock tones of Eldkvarn grabbed hold of the listeners and eventually induced nearly everyone to get up and dance.
Martina was enjoying the intoxicated and relaxed feeling in her body after a whole day of hard work in the field. She was more than a little pleased with herself. Right before they were going to pack things up for the day, she had found an Arabic silver coin, dated 1012. Everyone had congratulated her, and she had been tempted to slip the coin into her pocket so that she could show it to her father. Instead she had made do with holding the Viking Age coin in her hand for a moment to admire it.
The singer's soft, raspy voice was uttering words that she didn't understand. No matter how hard she tried, she caught only a few disconnected words. She quickly gave up and concentrated on listening to the beat instead as she danced with the others.
Every once in a while during the evening she had looked for him. Several times she thought she caught a glimpse of his face, but the next second she realized that she was mistaken. She wondered why he hadn't shown up. Jonas distracted her by offering her a cold beer, which she gratefully accepted.
Several hours later she was sitting squeezed in between Mark and Jonas, and she realized that she was very drunk. Some of their group had gathered on the hotel porch to continue partying with the bikers. It was still hot, even though it was almost one in the morning. Martina had given up hoping that he would appear. At least he could have called her. She dug around in her bag for her cell phone, only to discover that it was missing. Oh well. It was probably somewhere in the grass. She would look for it later. She downed the rest of her drink and got up to go to the bathroom, which was near the main entrance, around the corner.
She had a craving for a cigarette, but she had run out and the pub didn't sell them. She had a whole carton up in her room, and she decided to go get a pack.
After using the toilet, she headed over to the youth hostel. She could hear everyone merrily laughing and talking on the porch. Someone was strumming on a guitar.