Buried Angels

They had been lucky to find a table at the Café Bryggan. All of the outdoor seating was taken, and Leon watched as one shrimp sandwich after another was served. The location near Ingrid Bergman Square was perfect, with tables along the entire wharf, all the way out to the water.

‘I think we should buy the house,’ said Ia.

He turned to gape at his wife. ‘Ten million kronor isn’t exactly small change.’

‘Did I say it was?’ She leaned forward to straighten the blanket on his lap.

‘Leave the damn blanket alone. I’m sweating to death.’

‘You’re not supposed to catch cold. You know that.’

A waitress came over to their table, and Ia ordered a glass of wine for herself and mineral water for Leon. He glanced up at the young girl.

‘I’ll have a large beer,’ he said.

Ia gave him a reproachful look, but he merely nodded at the waitress. She reacted in the same way that everyone he met always did, making an exaggerated effort not to stare at the scars from the burns. When she left, he gazed out at the water.

‘It smells just the way I remember,’ said Leon. His hands, covered with thick scar tissue, rested in his lap.

‘I still don’t care for this place. But I’ll learn to like it if we buy the house,’ Ia said. ‘I have no intention of living in some hovel, and I don’t plan to be here all summer. A couple of weeks a year should be sufficient.’

‘Don’t you think it’s unreasonable to buy a house for ten million if we’re only planning to use it a couple of weeks a year?’

‘Those are my conditions,’ she said. ‘Otherwise you can stay here alone. And that won’t work, will it?’

‘No. I realize that I can’t manage on my own. And on the rare occasions I forget, I can always count on you to remind me.’

‘Do you ever think about all the sacrifices I’ve made for your sake? I have to put up with your crazy whims, and you never consider how I feel. And now you want to come here. Aren’t you a little too burnt to be playing with fire?’

The waitress brought the wine and the beer, setting the glasses on the blue-and-white checked cloth. Leon took several swigs and then ran his thumb over the cold glass.

‘Okay, do whatever you want. Call that estate agent and say that we’re going to buy the house. But I want to move in as soon as possible. I hate staying in a hotel.’

‘Great,’ said Ia without enthusiasm. ‘If we have that house, I’m sure I can stand being here a couple of weeks a year.’

‘You’re so brave, darling.’

She gave him a dark look. ‘Let’s just hope that you don’t regret this decision.’

‘A lot of water has gone under the bridge,’ he said calmly.

At that moment he heard someone behind him gasp with surprise.

‘Leon?’

He flinched. He didn’t have to turn his head to recognize that voice. Josef. After all these years, there stood Josef.

Paula gazed out across the glittering fjord, enjoying the heat. She put a hand on her stomach and smiled when she felt the kicking.

‘Okay, I think it’s about time for some ice cream,’ said Mellberg, getting to his feet. He cast a glance at Paula and wagged his finger at her. ‘Don’t you know that it’s not a good idea to expose your stomach to sunlight?’

She stared at him in astonishment as he headed for the kiosk.

‘Is he pulling my leg?’ said Paula, turning to her mother.

Rita laughed. ‘Bertil means well.’

Paula muttered to herself but got out a shawl to cover her stomach. Leo dashed past, totally naked. Johanna quickly caught up with him.

‘Bertil’s right,’ she said. ‘The UV rays can cause pigment changes, so you should also slather your face with sunblock.’

‘Pigment changes?’ said Paula. ‘But my skin is already brown.’

Rita handed her a bottle of factor 30 sunblock. ‘I got lots of brown spots on my face when I was pregnant with you, so don’t argue.’

Paula obeyed, and Johanna rubbed some on her own fair skin.

‘Well, you’re lucky,’ she said. ‘At least you don’t get sunburnt.’

‘I just wish Bertil would take things a little easier,’ said Paula, squeezing a big blob of sunblock into the palm of her hand. ‘This morning I caught him reading my pregnancy magazines. And the day before yesterday he brought home a bottle of Omega-3 oil for me from the health food store. He read in some magazine that it was good for the development of the baby’s brain.’

‘He’s so happy about the whole thing. Leave him be,’ said Rita. For the second time she began smearing sunblock on Leo from head to toe. He had inherited Johanna’s ruddy, freckled skin, and he burned easily in the sun. Paula wondered absentmindedly whether the baby would have her colouring or that of the unknown donor. It didn’t matter to her. Leo was their son – Johanna’s and hers – and she hardly ever thought about the fact that anyone else had been involved. The same would be true of this baby.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Mellberg’s happy shout. ‘Ice-cream time!’

Rita fixed him with a stern glare. ‘I hope you didn’t buy any for yourself.’

‘Only a tiny Magnum. I’ve been so good all week.’ He smiled and gave Rita a wink, in an attempt to get her to relent.

‘Nothing doing,’ she said calmly, taking the ice cream away from him and tossing it into the rubbish bin.

Mellberg muttered something.

‘What did you say?’

He swallowed. ‘Nothing. Not a word.’

‘You know what the doctor said. You’re in the risk group for heart attacks and diabetes.’

‘One Magnum isn’t going to do me any harm. A man’s got to live a little once in a while,’ he said, handing out the other ice cream bars that he’d bought.

‘Another week of holiday left,’ said Paula, closing her eyes to the sun as she ate her Cornetto.

‘I really don’t think you should go back to work,’ said Johanna. ‘The baby’s due soon. I’m sure you could take sick leave if you talked to the midwife. You need to rest.’

‘Stop right there,’ said Mellberg. ‘I heard what you said. Don’t forget that I’m Paula’s boss.’ He pensively scratched his thinning grey hair. ‘But I agree. I don’t think you should be working either.’

‘We’ve already discussed this. I’ll go crazy if I just sit around at home, waiting. Besides, things are pretty quiet at the moment.’