“Who’s Astrid?”
Just as she had suspected, he hadn’t tried Astrid’s rolls, and so of course he thought hers were good. She sighed. She just had to find that bloody baking book.
After the beach, Emelie brought Liv and Linnea over to Christer’s to check on him. They knocked on the door, shouted “Hello!” and heard him responding “come on in” from the bedroom upstairs.
“Hello there girls! How nice to have some visitors!” he said happily.
He looked more awake today and his crossword puzzle had been replaced with a Sudoku book.
“You have to stay busy somehow” he said, nodding in the direction of the book.
“Are you bored, uncle Christer?” Liv asked.
He nodded.
“Oh yes, it’s no fun just laying here, but it’s all right,” he sighed. What can I do for you today?”
Emelie found her phone and her notes about what to ask Christer. She had been given strict orders from Stig not to mention Christer’s ex-wife and the fact that she eloped with a town man who had visited the Christmas market – and she intended to keep that promise.
“Yes, I was wondering if you used to offer any other activities for children, except from dancing around the tree I mean?”
Christer’s face lit up.
“We used to have a quiz!”
Liv and Linnea looked excited, exclaiming that quizzes were lots of fun. Emelie took notes in her phone.
“How about marketing? How did you go about that?” Emelie asked and looked at Christer, who gave her a blank expression.
She continued:
“I mean, did you have an ad in the paper on the mainland or something of the sort? So that people knew that there was going to be a market.”
Christer’s eyes became dark, and he pulled up the duvet, tucking it in around his waist with jerky motions.
“Townsfolk. Do they have to come? I hate townsfolk” he scoffed between his teeth, and he refused to look at Emelie.
“We can’t have a market that is only for islanders, otherwise we won’t sell anything, and the salesmen will be disappointed and won’t want to come back next year,” Emelie said.
Come back? Christ, what was she saying, she didn’t even know whether she would be here next Christmas.
Christer made a sudden movement with his head and frowned.
“Bloody hell, be still with the head, doctor’s orders”, he muttered to himself while staring so intensely at Emelie that she took a step back.
“There was a town bloke at the last Christmas market, he ate at least ten of Astrid’s Lucia buns and then took off with my wife. I hate townsfolk” he said with determination, and then continued to stare out the window
“But we can’t have a market completely free from townsfolk, you must understand that?” Emelie said softly.
“Of course, I understand, but I still don’t like it!”
Emelie put a hand on his arm, smiling at him where he lay with his swollen head and his broken heart. It couldn’t be easy.
“Speaking of ads…what do you think about a website? I can ask Sussi to make one”, she said.
He smiled again and his eyes became friendlier.
“That sounds nice. You are handling this much better than me”, he said, stroking her hand.
