Nils heard footsteps, then the door opened and his brother and sister-in-law appeared. Stig’s face lit up when he saw Nils.
“It’s been too long,” he said, patting his brother on the shoulder.
The housekeeper hurried into the hallway and helped Stig and Marianne with their coats. Stig gave her a grateful smile, then turned to his father. “I was wondering if you’d like me to take over the Nymans accounting. I’m doing pretty well, but I’m feeling that it might be time to move on.HerrFranzén isn’t likely to retire anytime soon, so I’m kind of stuck where I am.”
Nils was heading for the living room, and almost stopped dead. What was his brother proposing? Stig had spoken as though this was no big deal, but this was a major change of plan—was he actually suggesting that he should leave the accounting firm where he worked, and join the family business instead?
“Oh, wouldn’t that be wonderful?” His mother clapped her hands together and beamed. “If Stig could work with the two of you!”
His father looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled. Nils felt a strange sense of unease.
“Yes ... why not? We’re expanding all the time, and it would be useful to have someone who understands finances. Someone we can trust. Come down to the office tomorrow and we’ll talk it through.”
Why did Nils feel this way? Shouldn’t he be overjoyed at the prospect of working with his beloved brother?
He and his brother had never competed with each other, largely because they had always had different interests. Stig had been a model student in school, while Nils was the one with good business sense and a love of baking. He had spent all his free time helping out at the café as a child. When he saw Stig’s satisfied expression, he realized what the weird feeling was about. Father had always put Nils first, and his role as successor had been self-evident. If Stig was joining the firm, that changed things completely.
The doorbell rang, and his mother hurried to open the door and welcome Folke Berglund, who was followed by his wife and daughter. Many people found Birgit attractive, with her thick blonde hair, tidy features, and slim figure. She was undeniably pretty, but it was obvious to Nils when their eyes met that there was no spark there. He didn’t know what made him so averse to her company, but he found her somehow unpleasant.
The situation wasn’t improved by the fact that all four parents watched them expectantly as they greeted each other.
“Perhaps we should go into the living room and have a drink,” his mother suggested.
The sun was shining in through the veranda windows, casting long golden stripes over the well-stocked bookshelves. His father served aperitifs in the coupe glasses that were only taken out of the display cabinet when there were guests.
“Welcome, everyone! We’re here to celebrate this evening,” his father announced when everyone had a drink.
Birgit looked at Nils over the rim of her glass as she took a sip, and fluttered her long eyelashes at him.
“Another piece of good news is that my eldest son wants to join the family firm,” his father added. He looked at Stig. “You don’t mind me telling everyone?”
“Of course not,” Stig replied with a grin.
“Maybe we’ll all be part of the family firm soon,” Father went on. He smiled meaningfully at Folke, while Birgit smiled at Nils in the same way. He immediately felt all eyes on him, as if he and Birgit were about to get married on the spot.
But all he could think about was Tuula. She was the one he wanted. When she smiled, he thought about sunshine; when she laughed, he thought of beautiful music. There wassomethingthere.
Dinner went well. His father and Folke Berglund discussed business matters, and Nils joined in their conversation. Stig made a number of useful contributions, while Birgit chatted with Marianne and his mother. There was apple compote for dessert, followed by coffee and liqueurs. Then it was time for the guests to depart. Nils decided to leave, too, as he had an early start in the bakery the following morning as usual.
They were all standing in the hallway with their coats on when Father cleared his throat. “Our guests live in the same direction as you, don’t they, Nils?” He looked at Folke, then Birgit, and finally Nils. Expectant, but with a sly smile.
“That’s right,” Birgit replied.
Nils ought to offer to accompany the family home—to do anything else would be rude—but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to give her false hope, and he didn’t want his father and Folke to think their scheme was going to succeed. If he was going to put a stop to these wedding plans, then now was the time to do it.
“Unfortunately I have to stop by the bakery. I just remembered I need to check how many sacks of flour we have left.”
“Surely you can do that tomorrow?” His father wasn’t pleased.
“Yes, but if we’re short, I can bring some over from the café first thing tomorrow, which will save me valuable time.”
Father looked puzzled, and then his expression hardened. Nils didn’t care—he was not going to walk Birgit home.
When Nils set off on his bike ten minutes later, after awkward goodbyes and handshakes, it was already dark. He could smell the fresh water and brushwood from the river, a smell that grew stronger as the days grew warmer, bringing a hint of spring.
The evening had taken too many unexpected turns. First Stig, then Nils’s decision to make it clear that he was not interested in a relationship with Birgit. How was this going to affect his future prospects? Was the bakery still his? But then he thought about Tuula, and he felt for the first time that the family firm and his long-held plans were no longer so important.
13
