LITMIR.BIZ

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that title yet.’

      ‘Four books published and you don’t consider yourself an author?’

      Patrik looked downright uncomprehending and Erica tried to explain what she meant.

      ‘Well, four biographies, working on the fifth. I don’t mean to denigrate it, but for me an author is someone who writes something from her own heart and her own brain, and doesn’t just describe someone else’s life. The day I write something that comes from me, then I can call myself an author.’

      She was suddenly struck by the fact that this wasn’t the whole truth. Looked at superficially, according to that definition there was no difference between the biographies she’d written about historical personalities and the book that she was writing about Alex. It was also about another person’s life. And yet somehow it was different. First, Alex’s life had run at a tangent to her own in a quite obvious way, and second, she could express some of her own views in this book. Within the framework of actual events she could even steer the book’s soul. But she couldn’t explain that to Patrik. Nobody could know that she was writing a book about Alex.

      ‘So Julia came here and asked a bunch of questions about Alex. Did you have a chance to ask her about Nelly Lorentz?’

      Erica waged an intense battle with herself and finally decided that she couldn’t in good conscience withhold this information from Patrik. Maybe he’d be able to draw conclusions from it that she couldn’t. It was the one small but vital piece of the puzzle she had chosen not to reveal when she went to dinner at his place. But since she hadn’t got much further with it, she saw no reason to keep quiet any longer. But first she had to serve the entree.

      She bent over to take his plate, making sure to lean forward a bit more than usual. She intended to make the most of the trump cards she had. Judging by Patrik’s face she had just shown herself to be holding three aces. So far her Wonderbra had proved to be worth the 500 kronor she had invested. Even though it had left a sizeable dent in her pocketbook.

      ‘Let me get that.’ Patrik took the plates from her and followed her into the kitchen. She drained the water from the potatoes and put him to work mashing them up. She reheated the gravy one last time and tasted it. A splash of port and a generous dollop of butter and it was ready to be served. No light cream in this dish! Then all that was left was to take the baked pork fillet out of the oven and slice it. It looked perfect. Light pink in the middle, but without the red juice that signalled the meat was underdone. For the vegetable dish she had selected steamed sugar peas, which she put in the same Rörstrand bowl with the mashed potatoes. They both helped carry in the food. She let Patrik serve himself before she dropped the bomb.

      ‘Julia is the sole heir to Nelly Lorentz’s fortune.’

      Patrik was just taking a sip of wine and apparently it went down the wrong way, because he coughed and grabbed his chest. Tears sprang to his eyes from the discomfort.

      ‘Excuse me, what did you say?’ Patrik asked in a strained voice.

      ‘I said that Julia is the sole heir to Nelly’s fortune. It’s in Nelly’s will,’ Erica said calmly, pouring Patrik some water to calm his cough.

      ‘Do I dare ask how you know this?’

      ‘Because I snooped in Nelly’s wastebasket when she invited me over for tea.’

      Patrik had another coughing fit and gave Erica an incredulous look. As he drained his entire water glass in one gulp, Erica went on.

      ‘There was a copy of her will in the wastebasket. It clearly and explicitly stated that Julia Carlgren would inherit Nelly Lorentz’s fortune. Yes, Jan gets a share, but Julia gets all the rest.’

      ‘Does Jan know this?’

      ‘I have no idea. But I would guess he does – no, he probably doesn’t know.’

      Erica continued as she ate.

      ‘I actually asked Julia when she was here how she happened to know Nelly Lorentz so well. Naturally I got a nonsense answer. Something about her having a summer job at the cannery for a couple of years. I don’t doubt that the part about her working there is true, but she left out the rest of the truth. It was quite obviously a subject that she really didn’t want to talk about.’

      Patrik looked pensive. ‘Do you realize that makes two very ill-matched pairs in this story? I would even call them improbable pairs. Alex and Anders, and Julia and Nelly. What is the lowest common denominator? If we find the link I think we’ll find the solution to everything.’

      ‘Alex. Isn’t Alex the lowest common denominator?’

      ‘No,’ said Patrik, ‘I think that’s a little too simple. It’s something else. Something we can’t see, or that we don’t understand.’

      He waved his fork excitedly. ‘And then we have Nils Lorentz. Or to be more precise, his disappearance. You were living in Fjällbacka then, what do you remember about it?’

      ‘I wasn’t very old then, and nobody tells a kid anything. But what I do remember is that it was all very hush-hush.’

      ‘Hush-hush?’

      ‘Yes, you know, conversations that stopped when I came into the room. Grown-ups talking in low voices. “Shh, don’t let the children hear” and comments like that. In other words all I know is that there was a lot of talk at the time about Nils’s disappearance. But I was too young. I wasn’t told anything.’

      ‘Hmm, I’m going to have to dig a little deeper into this. It’s going on my list of things to do tomorrow. But right now I’m having dinner with a woman who’s not only beautiful but also a fantastically good cook. A skål to the hostess.’

      He raised his glass and Erica felt all warm inside from the compliment. Not so much because of what he said about the meal but because he’d called her beautiful. Imagine how much easier everything would be if we could read each other’s minds, she thought. This whole charade would be unnecessary. Instead she sat here hoping that he would give her the slightest little hint that he was interested. It was fine to throw yourself out there and take a chance when you were a teenager, but with the years it felt as if her heart had grown less and less elastic. The efforts required were greater and the damage to one’s self-confidence bigger each time.

      After Patrik had helped himself to three more servings and they had long since stopped talking about sudden death and switched to discussing dreams, life and various world problems, they moved to the veranda to give their stomachs a break before dessert. They sat at opposite ends of the sofa and sipped their wine. Bottle number two was almost empty, and both of them could feel the effect. Their limbs were heavy and warm and their heads felt as if they were wrapped in lovely soft cotton. The night outside the windows was pitch-black with not a single star to light up the sky. The dense darkness outside made them feel as though they were wrapped in a big cocoon, completing the illusion that they were the only people on earth. Erica couldn’t recall ever feeling so content, so at home in her own existence. She made a sweeping gesture with the hand holding her wine glass, managing to encompass not only the whole veranda but the whole house.

      ‘Can you believe that Anna would want to sell all this? It’s not just that this is the most beautiful house in the whole world, there’s history in these walls. And I don’t mean only Anna’s and my history, but the histories of those who lived here before us. Did you know that a sea captain had this house built for his family in 1889? Captain Wilhelm Jansson. The story is actually very sad, like so many other stories in this town. He built the house for himself and his young wife Ida. They had five children in five years, but during the sixth childbirth Ida died. In those days single fathers were unheard of, so Captain Jansson’s unmarried older sister moved in and took charge of the children while he sailed the Seven Seas. His sister Hilda was not the best choice for foster mother. She was the most religious woman for several counties around, and that’s saying a lot considering how religious everyone was here. The children could hardly move without being accused of sinning, and the beatings they received from Hilda were administered with

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