‘Fred.’
The way Mats said his name meant there was no arguing. Fredrik rolled his eyes at his brother, but he got up and went to track his son down. Lotta could translate the shouting now she knew the boy was called Emil.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Mats said, pulling her in for a kiss. ‘Not the best way to introduce you to my younger brother and my nephew.’
‘It’s okay,’ she said, because what else could she say? They were his family.
‘It’s not, but it’s what you will come to expect from Fredrik. He is a single father most of the time, so we try to make allowances. Things can be tough for both of them.’
‘Where’s Emil’s mother?’
‘She’s an actress and had some success just before Emil was born. She and Fred agreed she should take the work while it wasthere, and she hasn’t really been back. Not for any amount of time, anyway.’
‘Where does she live?’
‘Los Angeles. She has a recurring part in a series and it seems they hardly have any time off.’
‘Does Emil see much of her?’
‘Fred tries to take him out there for holidays if she can’t get back here, but I think it’s hard for all of them slipping back into trying to be a family for a week here and there.’
‘That does sound difficult.’
It gave Lotta a different perspective on Fredrik, and she felt a little kinder towards him gatecrashing their weekend retreat. It must be hard to entertain a six-year-old on your own most of the time; no wonder he gave himself an easy life when he could.
Emil returned to the picnic area on his father’s shoulders, and they both sat next to the fire on a blanket.
‘This is Lotta,’ Fredrik said to him in Norwegian. ’She’s Uncle Mats’ friend, and she speaks English. You can speak English, can’t you?’
‘Hello Lotta,’ Emil said in perfect English, looking pleased with himself.
‘Hei Emil.’She said it in her best Norwegian, and he looked impressed. She wished she could speak Norwegian as confidently as he spoke English. Perhaps she should practise on Mats.
‘Can I have a sausage, please?’ He was back to Norwegian, which was only to be expected.
‘If Uncle Mats will share with you.’
‘Please don’t worry about speaking English for me,’ she said.
‘It’s good practice for Emil,’ said Fredrik with a smile.
Once he’d had his sausage, Emil wandered around the edge of the woods picking up sticks to burn on the fire.
‘Thanks for the food,’ Fredrik said. ‘We’ll get going.’
‘Why don’t you stay and do some fishing?’ Mats said, surprising everyone.
‘You sure?’ Fredrik’s eyes flicked from Mats to Lotta and back again in an unspoken question to his brother.
‘I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’d rather watch than fish, anyway.’
At the back of their toilet cabin, Mats had stashed all sorts of things underneath a tarpaulin, including some fishing gear. Lotta hadn’t noticed since she’d been so speedy in there.
‘Did you bring this stuff from home?’ Fredrik asked.
‘No, it was from the farmhouse. I asked Knut to leave a few things behind when they cleared it. Just practical stuff.’
There were two rods and a tackle box that had seen better days, but the fact that it had belonged to Mats’ and Fredrik’s ancestors was pretty special.
