He went upstairs chuckling. He loved the fact he’d worked hard enough to stink. And he loved annoying Ida.
The shower, while no match for the one in his apartment in Oslo, was welcome. The water was hot and it felt good to be clean. His hair had been full of dust to the point where he could no longer run his fingers through it, which reminded him he’d need to bring the bedsheets from the cabin back here to be washed before Lotta came to the island again.
He went downstairs in clean tracksuit bottoms and a sweatshirt, his dirty clothes in his arms, put them in the washer and then picked up the papers Ida had pointed out.
The first was an old map of the island, hand-drawn, with no sign of the farmhouse or the other buildings on there. Perhaps from before anyone had lived there, but it had the wordStrandgården,literally, the Shore Farm, written on it. It would be good to frame and display somewhere. The next was an old piece of paper; at first glance, it looked like a letter, but it was torn in half lengthwise. The words on the half in his hand were literally half a letter, so it was difficult to get the gist of what it was about. But at the bottom were two signatures: a Larsen, most likely Mats’ grandfather, and an Olsen. It was dated 14thApril 1951.
‘Have you seen this?’ he asked his sister who was sitting at the kitchen table working at her laptop.
‘Yes. That’s why I kept it.’
‘I can’t understand what it’s about.’
She turned to him. ‘I think it’s to do with an area of the farm. It is hard to tell but an agreement was made over some land and the other person who signed that piece of paper either owns some of the farm land or gave some of the farm land. Presumably that person had the matching half of that document.’
‘That’s pretty cool,’ said Mats.
‘It might turn out someone owns some of your land,’ said Ida. ‘Not that cool.’
‘What are the chances now of anyone turning up with this? It’s a gentleman’s agreement from decades ago. It’s probably not even legal. Olsen is such a common name. It’d be hard to track down who this is, even if I could read the first part of the signature.’ It seemed unlikely that it meant anything now but it was an interesting artefact to have found.
While Ida finished her work for the day, Mats cooked dinner for them. He made a pot of hearty lentil and bean stew and roasted various vegetables he found in the fridge to go with it. He poured a glass of wine for each of them as they sat down to eat.
‘When is Lotta back?’
‘Early next week. She’s coming with someone from Snug head office but after that she’s hoping to come out here for a couple of days. I’m not sure we can stay at the cabin though. It’s pretty chaotic over there now.’
‘What’s going to happen once she’s not working on this Oslo project with them? Will she be going to other places to do the same thing?’
Mats had his mouth full, so shook his head. ‘It’s because it’s the first one. When it rolls out to other stores, they’ll follow the process Lotta’s established by themselves. She’ll create the content for them, but she’ll do it all from London.’
‘Where does that leave you?’ Ida put her fork down and Mats braced himself. ‘You’re cutting yourself off, Mats. Being on theisland is surely the end for you and Lotta. Have you discussed it?’
He wanted to tell Ida that it was none of her business, but he knew that wasn’t fair. He’d want to feel able to voice concerns to her if things were the other way around. It came from a place of love, even if it presented as interfering.
‘Not in any detail. She knows I’m tied to the project, to living here, at least for the next few years. If I didn’t have the island, I’d move to London like a shot.’
Ida looked surprised. ‘Really? I thought you wanted to get out of the rat race, not do it in a different place.’
‘It would have been worth the compromise to be with Lotta.’
‘You don’t think she wants to move here?’
‘I don’t think shedoesn’twant to.’ He laughed, and Ida did too. ‘I think she could probably work from anywhere with a good enough internet connection, but it has to be her decision. I get the feeling that what she has is new for her and hard-won. She’s careful about committing to any specifics.’ And she was getting more careful, he was noticing.
‘Can you live with not knowing what the plan is?’ Ida, like the rest of his family, knew that he always had a plan, a strategy, whatever he was doing.
‘For now,’ he said, nodding.
‘Because she’s worth it?’
‘She’s everything, Ida.’
They looked at each other over the dinner table, and he felt close to his sister in a way he didn’t often. They were the oldest siblings, and neither of them had had a serious relationship to speak of. It was common ground for them when not much else was.
‘It’ll happen for you when you least expect it,’ he said, trying to make light of it by shovelling more food in his mouth at the same time.
‘Not likely. My standards are far too high.’
