outhouse.
She watches him drive out onto the main road, then off through the forest, and she knows that he’ll soon be back on the pretext of having forgotten something.
She also knows with the same absolute certainty what he’s going to want her to do.
It’s all so predictable, and the whole procedure will be repeated at least twice before he leaves for real. Maybe he’ll have to come back three times before he feels properly relaxed.
She clenches her teeth and peers off towards the edge of the forest, where you can just make out the lake through the trees. Three minutes later she sees the white Volvo approaching and goes back into the kitchen.
This time it’s over in ten minutes. Afterwards he settles himself heavily in the car, says goodbye and turns the key in the ignition.
Victoria watches the car disappear behind the trees again. The sound of the engine grows ever more distant, but she sits and waits with the big lump still in her stomach, so as not to celebrate victory in advance. She knows how severe the disappointment is if you do that.
But he doesn’t come back again.
When she realises he won’t return, she goes off to the well to wash. With some difficulty she hauls up a bucket of ice-cold water and shivers as she scrubs herself clean, before going to Aunt Elsa’s to eat lunch and play cards.
Now she can start to breathe.
After eating she decides to go down to the lake for a swim. The path is narrow and covered in pine needles. It feels soft under her bare feet. From within the forest she can hear a persistent peeping sound, and realises that it’s coming from hungry chicks waiting for their parents to come back with something edible. The peeping is very close, and she stops and looks.
A tiny hole reveals the bird’s nest, no more than two metres up in an old pine tree.
When she reaches the lake she lies on her back in the rowing boat and stares up into the sky.
It’s the middle of June, and the air still feels fairly chilly.
Cold water rolls up and down beneath her back in time with the waves. The sky is like dirty milk with a splash of fire, and a black-throated loon is calling from the edge of the forest.
She wonders about letting the waves carry her out, off to unlimited freedom, away from everything. She feels sleepy, but deep down she realised long ago that she can never sleep deeply enough to get away. Her head is like a lamp that has been left on in a silent, dark house. There are always moths fluttering around the naked electric light, their dry wings in her eyes.
As usual, she swims four lengths between the jetty and the big rock fifty metres out in the lake before spreading her blanket and lying down on the grass a short distance from the narrow strip of white sand. The fish are lying in wait, and midges are buzzing across the water, along with dragonflies and pond skaters.
She shuts her eyes, enjoying an isolation that no one can disturb, when suddenly she hears voices from inside the forest.
A man and a woman are walking down the path, and a little boy is running ahead of them, with long, fair curls.
They say hello and ask if this is a private beach. She replies that she isn’t really sure, but as far as she knows anyone’s allowed to come here. She’s always swum here, anyway.
‘Ah, so you’ve lived here for a while, then?’ the man says with a smile.
The little boy is running excitedly towards the water and the woman hurries after him.
‘Is that your house over there?’ the man asks, pointing. The cottage is just visible through the trees in the distance.
‘That’s right. Mum and Dad are working in the city, so I’m staying here on my own for a week.’
She lies to see how he will react. She has an idea that she wants to check out.
‘I see. So you’re an independent young lady?’ the man says.
She watches as the woman helps the little boy out of his clothes down by the water.
‘Suppose so,’ she replies, turning towards the man.
He looks
She watches him drive out onto the main road, then off through the forest, and she knows that he’ll soon be back on the pretext of having forgotten something.
She also knows with the same absolute certainty what he’s going to want her to do.
It’s all so predictable, and the whole procedure will be repeated at least twice before he leaves for real. Maybe he’ll have to come back three times before he feels properly relaxed.
She clenches her teeth and peers off towards the edge of the forest, where you can just make out the lake through the trees. Three minutes later she sees the white Volvo approaching and goes back into the kitchen.
This time it’s over in ten minutes. Afterwards he settles himself heavily in the car, says goodbye and turns the key in the ignition.
Victoria watches the car disappear behind the trees again. The sound of the engine grows ever more distant, but she sits and waits with the big lump still in her stomach, so as not to celebrate victory in advance. She knows how severe the disappointment is if you do that.
But he doesn’t come back again.
When she realises he won’t return, she goes off to the well to wash. With some difficulty she hauls up a bucket of ice-cold water and shivers as she scrubs herself clean, before going to Aunt Elsa’s to eat lunch and play cards.
Now she can start to breathe.
After eating she decides to go down to the lake for a swim. The path is narrow and covered in pine needles. It feels soft under her bare feet. From within the forest she can hear a persistent peeping sound, and realises that it’s coming from hungry chicks waiting for their parents to come back with something edible. The peeping is very close, and she stops and looks.
A tiny hole reveals the bird’s nest, no more than two metres up in an old pine tree.
When she reaches the lake she lies on her back in the rowing boat and stares up into the sky.
It’s the middle of June, and the air still feels fairly chilly.
Cold water rolls up and down beneath her back in time with the waves. The sky is like dirty milk with a splash of fire, and a black-throated loon is calling from the edge of the forest.
She wonders about letting the waves carry her out, off to unlimited freedom, away from everything. She feels sleepy, but deep down she realised long ago that she can never sleep deeply enough to get away. Her head is like a lamp that has been left on in a silent, dark house. There are always moths fluttering around the naked electric light, their dry wings in her eyes.
As usual, she swims four lengths between the jetty and the big rock fifty metres out in the lake before spreading her blanket and lying down on the grass a short distance from the narrow strip of white sand. The fish are lying in wait, and midges are buzzing across the water, along with dragonflies and pond skaters.
She shuts her eyes, enjoying an isolation that no one can disturb, when suddenly she hears voices from inside the forest.
A man and a woman are walking down the path, and a little boy is running ahead of them, with long, fair curls.
They say hello and ask if this is a private beach. She replies that she isn’t really sure, but as far as she knows anyone’s allowed to come here. She’s always swum here, anyway.
‘Ah, so you’ve lived here for a while, then?’ the man says with a smile.
The little boy is running excitedly towards the water and the woman hurries after him.
‘Is that your house over there?’ the man asks, pointing. The cottage is just visible through the trees in the distance.
‘That’s right. Mum and Dad are working in the city, so I’m staying here on my own for a week.’
She lies to see how he will react. She has an idea that she wants to check out.
‘I see. So you’re an independent young lady?’ the man says.
She watches as the woman helps the little boy out of his clothes down by the water.
‘Suppose so,’ she replies, turning towards the man.
He looks
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