Chapter 2
The weekend flew by with dinner at grandma and Bengt’s, a restaurant visit to celebrate Linn’s graduation, last soccer practice of the season for Linnea, and then she also had to drive Liv to a birthday party. The thought of the inheritance had been at the back of her mind ever since she had first read the letter, but, even so, she hadn’t mentioned it to her mother. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but if it turned out to be nothing special, it would have felt stupid to go blabbering about it. No, she wanted to wait until she knew what it was really about. Of course, she had spoken to Sara about it and speculated, it was hard not to after a couple of glasses of wine. Today was Monday and time to finally find out what the inheritance was all about. The law firm was located in an old, yellow wood building. The ground floor was made of brick; wasn’t it these kinds of houses people called Governor’s Houses? She wasn’t entirely sure why. She looked nervously around the cobbled street before taking a deep breath and pulling the door open with a firm grip around the carved handle. When she entered the dark hallway, she had to blink a couple of times for her eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight outside, but eventually she made out the reception desk and the woman sitting behind it. She had her hair up in a tight bun and her nails were long and light purple; she looked exactly how Emelie had imagined a receptionist at a law firm might look. Emelie took a couple of steps forward and realised that she had no clue who to ask for. She froze and began digging around in her old black leather bag in order to find the letter.
“Who are you meeting?”
Emelie looked up at the strict women with the frigid smile in front of her.
“Yes, that’s sort of the problem, just one moment”, she said nervously.
She dug around among hairbands, tampons, pens and receipts before finding the envelope from the law firm, but she didn’t have time to get it out of the bag before the woman spoke again.
“Are you Emelie Svensson?”
Emelie nodded.
“Then you are meeting Sven Bart, please sit down and wait for a moment and he will be with you shortly,” she said, returning to her screen.
Emelie thanked her and dropped into one of the old, worn and extremely comfortable leather armchairs. She sighed and looked around. Leather armchairs, teak tables, paintings of serious men on the walls. She smiled to herself, it looked exactly the way an established law firm should.
“Ah, there you are, enjoying yourself I see.”
The thick carpet had efficiently muffled the sound of his steps and she didn’t notice the tubby lawyer until he was standing right next to her. She flew up as if he had caught her in the act of doing something criminal.
“Emelie I assume? Sven Bart, lawyer and associate of Bertelson & Bart.”
They shook hands.
“Yes, exactly, I’m Emelie Svensson.”
“This way please.”
She followed him into his office and heard him ask the receptionist to bring them two cups of coffee and some biscuits, which made her wonder whether she was still awake, or if she had fallen asleep and somehow landed in the fifties.
“Alright, let’s see here, Emelie.”
Sven sat down behind his massive dark desk and opened the thick binder in front of him on the desk. He was silent for a while before clasping his hands in front of him and observing her over the edge of his reading glasses.
“Astrid Svensson, she would be your grandmother’s sister?”
It could have been a question as well as a statement, and Emelie wasn’t sure what to say so she remained silent. Her father had died of a heart-attack ten years ago and she wished that he could be here right now, sitting next to her, answering the lawyer’s questions with his calm and comforting voice. What had he told her? She searched her mind. Her grandmother’s sister, that would have been his aunt… yes, she was quite sure her name had been Astrid. Wasn’t that the lady who was a bit peculiar and who lived all by herself in some remote place and never wanted any visitors? She nodded hesitantly and the lawyer seemed content. He cleared his throat and looked down at the papers again.
“Yes, so Astrid has passed away and you are her main heir. She has left you a nice estate on Sardinia.”
Emelie jumped. What did he just say? Thoughts were racing through her head - an estate on Sardinia! Oh, how wonderful! She envisioned a whitewashed building with charming shabby-chic, faded window shutters in a lush garden, olive groves in the background and a turquoise sea just a stone’s throw away. Her girls running around in the garden in white dresses and herself enjoying the local wine in a dented glass on the porch.
“On top of that, there’s all the household goods. And a sum of money if…”
“Excuse me for asking, but how does it work, owning a property abroad, I mean regarding taxes and all”
The lawyer stared at her in surprise and took off his reading glasses.
“Er, are you interested in purchasing a property abroad?”
Now it was Emelie’s turn to stare at him: “But you just told me that I had inherited a house on Sardinia?”
He looked at her and his shoulders quivered a little before he started laughing. He just couldn’t help himself; it came bubbling out of him. He laughed and the tears came running down his round cheeks. When the receptionist came back with their coffee he was struggling for air and could only wave to her to come in. Emelie and the receptionist stared at each other, shaking their heads. When the door closed behind her, he took a deep breath.
“You thought I said Sardinia”, he said, drying his eyes before he started laughing again, and this time, it took him several minutes to regain control over his breathing. Emelie had seriously started to fear that he was having an asthma attack.
