arm.
“But, how…how do you know you’ve seen them wrong?”
“Mainly because the letters don’t form words that make any sense. But now and then I just see a different word and don’t realise my mistake until much later. Sometimes the story I get into myhead is completely different. So I sort of end up getting two stories for the price of one.”
She laughed. A loud, bubbly laugh. Her eyes twinkled in the semi-darkness. I laughed too. It wasn’t the first time I had told someone I was dyslexic. But it was the first time anyone had continued to ask questions. And the first time I had tried to explain it to someone who wasn’t my mum or a teacher. Her hand slid off my arm. Sort of unnoticed. I’d been waiting for it. She was slipping away from me. But her hand slid into mine instead. And squeezed it. “You really
are
funny, Olav. And kind.”
Along the bottom of the window the snow had started to settle. The snow crystals hooked onto each other. Like the links in a piece of chain mail.
“So tell me, then,” she said. “Tell me about the love story in the book.”
“Okay,” I said, and looked down at the book on my lap. It was open at the page where Jean Valjean forces himself on the ruined, doomed prostitute. I changed my mind. And told herinstead about Cosette and Marius. And about Éponine, the young girl who was raised into a life of crime, and was hopelessly in love with Marius, and who ends up sacrificing her life for love. Other people’s love. I told the story again, this time leaving out none of the details.
“Oh, how wonderful!” Corina exclaimed when I had finished.
“Yes,” I said. “Éponine is…”
“…that Cosette and Marius had each other in the end.”
I nodded.
Corina squeezed my hand. She hadn’t let go of it once. “Tell me about the Fisherman.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “He’s a businessman.”
“Daniel says he’s a murderer.”
“That too.”
“What’s going to happen once Daniel’s dead?”
“Then you won’t have anyone to be afraid of. The Fisherman doesn’t wish you any harm.”
“I mean, will the Fisherman take over the whole thing?”
“I suppose so, he hasn’t got any othercompetition. Unless you were thinking…?” I did my best to give her a wry smile.
She laughed out loud and gave me a playful shove. Who would have guessed I was a comedian deep down?
“Why don’t we just run away?” she asked. “You and me, we’d manage fine, the pair of us. I could make the food and you could…”
The rest of the sentence was left hanging in the air like a half-finished bridge.
“I’d be happy to run away with you, Corina, but I haven’t got a krone to my name.”
“No? Daniel always says he pays his people well. Loyalty has to be bought, he says.”
“I’ve spent it all.”
“What on?” She nodded past me, meaning the flat, to suggest that neither it nor anything in it could have cost a fortune.
I shrugged again. “There was a widow with four kids. I was the one who made her a widow, so I…well, I had a moment of weakness and put what her husband had been promised to fix someone in an envelope. And that turned out tobe everything I had. I never knew the Fisherman paid so well.”
She gave me a sceptical look. I don’t think it was one of Darwin’s six universal facial expressions, but I knew what she meant. “You…you gave all your money to the widow of a man who was going to
kill
someone?”
Obviously I’d already worked out that what I’d done had been pretty stupid, even if I had felt I got something out of it in exchange. But when Corina put it like that, it sounded completely idiotic.
“So who was he going to kill?”
“Don’t remember,” I said.
She looked at me. “Olav, you know what?”
I didn’t know what.
She put her hand against my cheek. “You really are very, very unusual.”
Her eyes looked over my face, taking it in, bit by bit, as if she were consuming it. I know that’s the moment when
“But, how…how do you know you’ve seen them wrong?”
“Mainly because the letters don’t form words that make any sense. But now and then I just see a different word and don’t realise my mistake until much later. Sometimes the story I get into myhead is completely different. So I sort of end up getting two stories for the price of one.”
She laughed. A loud, bubbly laugh. Her eyes twinkled in the semi-darkness. I laughed too. It wasn’t the first time I had told someone I was dyslexic. But it was the first time anyone had continued to ask questions. And the first time I had tried to explain it to someone who wasn’t my mum or a teacher. Her hand slid off my arm. Sort of unnoticed. I’d been waiting for it. She was slipping away from me. But her hand slid into mine instead. And squeezed it. “You really
are
funny, Olav. And kind.”
Along the bottom of the window the snow had started to settle. The snow crystals hooked onto each other. Like the links in a piece of chain mail.
“So tell me, then,” she said. “Tell me about the love story in the book.”
“Okay,” I said, and looked down at the book on my lap. It was open at the page where Jean Valjean forces himself on the ruined, doomed prostitute. I changed my mind. And told herinstead about Cosette and Marius. And about Éponine, the young girl who was raised into a life of crime, and was hopelessly in love with Marius, and who ends up sacrificing her life for love. Other people’s love. I told the story again, this time leaving out none of the details.
“Oh, how wonderful!” Corina exclaimed when I had finished.
“Yes,” I said. “Éponine is…”
“…that Cosette and Marius had each other in the end.”
I nodded.
Corina squeezed my hand. She hadn’t let go of it once. “Tell me about the Fisherman.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “He’s a businessman.”
“Daniel says he’s a murderer.”
“That too.”
“What’s going to happen once Daniel’s dead?”
“Then you won’t have anyone to be afraid of. The Fisherman doesn’t wish you any harm.”
“I mean, will the Fisherman take over the whole thing?”
“I suppose so, he hasn’t got any othercompetition. Unless you were thinking…?” I did my best to give her a wry smile.
She laughed out loud and gave me a playful shove. Who would have guessed I was a comedian deep down?
“Why don’t we just run away?” she asked. “You and me, we’d manage fine, the pair of us. I could make the food and you could…”
The rest of the sentence was left hanging in the air like a half-finished bridge.
“I’d be happy to run away with you, Corina, but I haven’t got a krone to my name.”
“No? Daniel always says he pays his people well. Loyalty has to be bought, he says.”
“I’ve spent it all.”
“What on?” She nodded past me, meaning the flat, to suggest that neither it nor anything in it could have cost a fortune.
I shrugged again. “There was a widow with four kids. I was the one who made her a widow, so I…well, I had a moment of weakness and put what her husband had been promised to fix someone in an envelope. And that turned out tobe everything I had. I never knew the Fisherman paid so well.”
She gave me a sceptical look. I don’t think it was one of Darwin’s six universal facial expressions, but I knew what she meant. “You…you gave all your money to the widow of a man who was going to
kill
someone?”
Obviously I’d already worked out that what I’d done had been pretty stupid, even if I had felt I got something out of it in exchange. But when Corina put it like that, it sounded completely idiotic.
“So who was he going to kill?”
“Don’t remember,” I said.
She looked at me. “Olav, you know what?”
I didn’t know what.
She put her hand against my cheek. “You really are very, very unusual.”
Her eyes looked over my face, taking it in, bit by bit, as if she were consuming it. I know that’s the moment when
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