Lydia inhaled sharply. “Didrik? As in Didrik Holgersson?”
When Bente first started working in TV, Lydia would call her on a daily basis wanting to know which celebrities she had met or seen. Now that Bente thought of it, that had continued throughout her TV career. No one had been more upset and disappointed over her breakup with the TV baker Henrik Eklund than Lydia; she had loved having him at family dinners. Her pleasure was genuine, she had really liked him, and she had also loved having a real star in the family.
“What fun—in that case I think we’ll eat here. But we’ll stay in the background,” Bente’s mother said with a wink. She held up her empty cocktail glass and looked meaningfully at Hanna, who immediately put down her laptop and turned her attention to the various bottles of spirits on the counter.
If there was one thing Bente’s family was incapable of, it was staying in the background.
She sighed. “I don’t know if I’ve got enough food for all of you,” she said, hoping they would take the hint.
“I can run down and do some shopping,” Lydia offered. “What do you need?”
Bente realized she had no choice.
While Lydia hurried off to the grocery store, Bente unpacked the bags. Hanna headed into her office, where Uno was now busy tapping away on his computer. It was six o’clock, but they were perfectly capable of working night and day. Mom sank down on the sofa with the chips, Candy Crush on her phone, and the cocktail Hanna had mixed for her.
Bente opened a bottle of Merlot, put on some soft jazz, unpacked the rest of the wine, and lit the candles in the holders around the kitchen.
Lydia soon returned.
“So tell me more about your new show. Agneta mentioned a few things, but ...” Lydia glanced over her shoulder and leaned closer toBente. “She doesn’t seem to think this TV business is a good idea, but I like it. As long as it makesyouhappy, sweetheart.” Lydia’s expression was serious as she looked at her niece. Her calm voice struck a chord with Bente, and she had to clear her throat before she answered.
“I’m happy.” She smiled and poured Lydia a glass of wine.
She was planning to serve hash browns with fish roe as a starter, followed by oven-roasted portobello mushrooms with a potato bake and a red wine sauce. She had heard from Elnaz that ever since Don had started playing padel, he had become a little more careful about what he ate, and was avoiding meat these days. So she was going vegetarian, with the exception of the roe. Elnaz would eat anything, and thanks to their trip to Paris, Bente knew that Didrik liked most foods. She had loved having dinner with him; he always studied the menu with interest and curiosity, and was keen to try something different whenever he had the opportunity. Maybe it was his curiosity that had attracted him to history in the first place? The chance to make discoveries, learn something new.
She pushed aside thoughts of him and focused on dinner.
Hanna and Uno soon came over to help. Uno made a salad while Hanna opened the windows to air the room. A chilly spring breeze carried in the smells of the city—frying food from the stall down on the corner, budding trees, earth and grass that had just started to grow.
After a while her mother laboriously got to her feet and came to lend a hand too. She set the table while balancing her Manhattan between her thumb and forefinger. The air was filled with anticipation and excitement. Lydia was thrilled at the prospect of meeting a celebrity, Hanna was pumped over the major technical update they had just completed and were due to launch the following week, and Mom always looked forward to a lovely dinner. Bente herself was nervous, but also eager to discuss the format of the show with her guests. Only Uno was somewhat subdued, because Mirja wasn’t answering his calls.
Fifteen minutes before her guests were due to arrive, Bente slipped away to freshen up. She changed into a long dress but remained barefoot.She shook her hair loose but didn’t run the comb through—it was tidy enough for a dinner at home. She put on some red lipstick. Was she taking a little extra care? No, she was just making an effort—this dinner was important. She was doing this not for Didrik’s sake, but because the people who would make important decisions about her career were coming. That was the reason.
Next she took the old wine bottle out of its box and placed both items on the kitchen island to show Don. With a bit of luck, he would realize how fascinating the story was—and what an amazing show it could be—if he actually saw and held the bottle.
At least that was what she was hoping.
25
Elnaz arrived first, clutching a bunch of tulips. As Bente welcomed her in the hallway, the sound of cheerful voices came from the living room—so much for “staying in the background”—and Elnaz seemed to give a little start.
“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t get rid of my ... family.” Bente gave a half smile and showed her guest into the apartment. The whole gang was standing there, at the ready. They stepped forward to say hello, one by one.
Elnaz shook Hanna’s hand for rather too long, while Bente’s sister gazed deep into her eyes.
Oh no,Bente thought, well aware of what that might mean. Hanna wasnotallowed to develop an interest in Elnaz, that would be a seriously bad idea. Bente knew her sister well, and she needed to keep her relationship with Elnaz and the production company on a professional footing.
The doorbell rang again and Bente went to answer it.
Didrik. It felt like forever since they had seen each other. Now he was standing here, right in front of her, in his usual coat and with his hair slightly tousled, as if the spring breeze had ruffled it. His gaze held hers, and for a little while they looked at each other in silence. He smiled tentatively and her heart began to pound. She didn’t know what to say.
Didrik got there first. “Hi.”
She cleared her throat. “Hi! Come on in!” She made a vague sweeping movement with one hand, and he took a step toward her. He surprised her by trying to give her a hug, but it turned into nothing more than an awkward pat on the back. The brief touch was enough to make her body react. And his smell.Oh God.His smell.
Beneath his coat he was impeccably dressed as always—chinos, tweed jacket, a checked shirt in the same dark-blue shade as his chinos, matching tie.
He hung up his coat and handed over a flat package wrapped in shiny pale-gray paper.
