“Isn’t it lovely? Don’t you think so?”
“Goodness, woman, get to the point, I don’t give a sod about your porch,” Emelie said while impatiently picking the Santa Claus in bas-relied on her coffee cup.
Birgitta nodded nervously.
“Yes, well you see the porch is on your land. Or not exactly on your land, but close enough that it required Astrid’s consent. She kept saying that it wasn’t a problem and that she was going to okay it. She got all the papers and…and…then she died.”
Her voice broke and her eyes started wandering.
“But I don’t understand, the porch is right there,” Emelie said, pointing. Obviously, you have gotten your porch, so I don’t understand what the problem is.”
She looked on the clock on the wall. She was tired of this old, difficult lady and she wanted an explanation.
“The porch is lovely! We are so happy with it, but we don’t have Astrid’s approval. That’s the problem. But Astrid said that she would sign it, or that shehad, I don’t quite remember. And then in June we received a letter from the municipality about them lacking the approval.” Birgitta’s face suddenly lit up again.
“And then I was thinking that it must be somewhere around the house? I figured I would sneak in and have a look before anyone took over the house, but you came so quickly! And well, then I had to look a bit on my own.”
She smiled at Emelie with eyes that were begging for forgiveness. Emelie was thinking hard. Did it really matter to her? Suddenly, and out of the blue Birgitta started crying uncontrollably.
“You…you…if she hasn’t given her approval, we have to te-e-ear down the porch, and my husband is a-a-a-lways sitting there…”
Her voice got louder, and she finished the sentence with a long howling sound and Emelie just stared at the old lady and the total mental breakdown that she was witnessing in her own kitchen.
“And I can’t te-e-a-r down the po-o-orch!”
Birgitta had shrieked the last part so loudly that Emelie jumped and got busy. She squatted next to the old lady, stroking her arm.
“No worries, hey. We’ll have to have a look for it together, you and me, you won’t have to tear down the porch. And if we can’t find the paper, then maybe I can approve it?!”
She handed Birgitta a Christmas napkin with a chubby Santa bathed in moonlight, and Birgitta used it to dry her eyes and cheeks. It was a dark blue and vibrant red colour, and Emelie was hoping it wouldn’t stain her face. She calmly stroked Birgitta’s back and she slowly stopped sobbing. Birgitta turned her face up and towards her, she had a red shimmer under one of her eyes and her other cheek was blue and glittery.
“Hold on, wait a second,” Emelie said, fetching a wet wipe.
She grabbed Birgitta’s chin and dried her cheeks the same way she had dried millions of tear-stained children’s cheeks before. Birgitta took a deep breath, smiling through the tears.
“Thank you for being so kind to an old, crazy lady,” she said, taking a few deep breaths to bring her pulse down to normal.
“No worries. We’re just going to have to keep looking in the cellar, if that’s where you believe the document is?”
“I don’t know where Astrid used to keep her papers and maybe it’s not very likely it would be in the cellar. It’s some rather important papers. But you’ve gone through the rest of the house, haven’t you?”
“Yes, there were some papers in the drawer in her bedroom, but not the permission you’re looking for. I didn’t find that. When Andreas has changed the light down in the cellar tonight we can keep looking, okay?”
Birgitta’s sad eyes looked a little more cheerful, and she stroked Emelie’s arm.
“I’m so sorry for all of this. I feel so stupid. What was I thinking? I should have just talked to you.”
They both agreed that it would have been easier than Birgitta sneaking around the cellar at night scaring her half to death. Birgitta rinsed her face in the guest bathroom in the hallway and then went back home, but first they decided that she would come back the following day to look when there was light in the cellar. Emelie dropped down into the sofa, amazed about the sheer number of events that could take place on a small island that seemed like the world’s calmest place. She had just closed her eyes and almost drifted off to sleep when her phone beeped.
“Did you find the bottles? I’d love to start on the mulled wine when I get back at 3 o’clock. I got off early ?.”
That’s right, the bottles. Emelie answered that they had found them, and that she was about to clean them. Then she pulled herself from her comfortable sofa, put on Ed Sheeran on Spotify and started washing the bottles.
Chapter 19
“Goodness the wind is freezing!” Emelie exclaimed wrapping her wind jacket tighter around her.
Andreas agreed and pointed towards the door.
