“Just because it’s true doesn’t mean you have to say it,” Sander said, taking a sip of beer.
Jakob’s father used to repair trucks, but he’d been laid off a year or so ago. These days he was trying to get the old family farm up andrunning again, but they didn’t have much: a couple chickens, a pig or two, some cropland to work. He’d once asked Mikael’s father for money, but neither Mikael nor Jakob knew if he’d actually borrowed any. They were neighbors, more or less, the Söderströms and the Lindells, and around here you either loved or hated your neighbor. Jakob had once confided in Sander that his parents had come close, on more than one occasion, to selling the farm and moving to an apartment in Oskarström.
“So, like, where is he keeping it?” Killian asked, gazing around for another beer. “The money, I mean.”
“In a cushion on the kitchen bench, basically. Just like Kjell. I think he’s going to move it when he and Mom get home. Anyway, fuck it. Let’s talk about something else.”
“You’re the one who brought it up,” Mikael said.
Jakob glared at him. “Shouldn’t you be keeping an eye on your little brother or something?”
Mikael laughed harshly. “Wow, what a comeback.”
“Can you all just quit it?” Pierre said.
Filip, Mikael’s little brother, was two years younger than the rest of them. Everyone knew he puked the second he drank any wine, and that Mikael usually had to haul him home. Filip had said he was coming to the party, but no one had spotted him yet.
Killian rose unsteadily from the sofa and went to the bathroom. Sander meandered to the front hall and asked if anyone had seen Felicia. No one heard him. On the wall there was a large, ornate pendulum clock, made of wood. It was quarter past eleven. The face of the clock was an old map of Sweden. Sander examined it as though it were a riddle.
A big country with many faces. That’s what Ardelius had said.
Soon Sander would be far away from here. The thought felt good, like a release.
9
Some goings-on at the party weren’t very visible, or else they were visible but no one thought much about them. Later, Siri and her colleagues would spend a very long time trying to bring clarity to events no one had thought mattered.
Glass and porcelain shattered. Sander found Filip sitting on the floor of the kitchen and told him that his older brother was around somewhere and was definitely looking for him. Filip clumsily unscrewed the cap of his plastic bottle.
“He was being a total asshole to Jakob just now,” Sander wenton.
“No surprise there,” Filip muttered.
“Oh?”
“He thinks Felicia Grenberg likes Jakob. Or that Jakob likes her, hell if I know.”
“He does?”
“This is my brother’s way of dealing with it. Being a dick and acting all, what’s the word, superior.” His gaze flickered over Sander. “Believe me, I know.”
“Dealing with what? Does Mikael like Felicia?”
Filip laughed as though the answer were obvious.
Filip was short and lanky and kept his head shaved. He had sharp, angular features, with a pointy nose and thin lips, a blunt chin that formed aW. His complexion was darker than his brother’s, and hisdisposition was grimmer. He’d been like that since they were little. Filip had fewer friends and a tougher time at school; counselors had been involved more than once. But he was also funny and intense and you never quite knew what he was up to, whether he was messing with you.
Filip dropped the cap, which skittered across the floor. “Shit. I hate when that happens.”
Sander bent down to pick itup.
“Is she here?” Sander asked.
“Who?”
“Felicia?”
“No clue. Fuck, you ask a lot of questions.” Filip took the cap from him. “Thanks.”
