particular, and so it seemed to annoy Dan even more. What really got his goat was when AIK lost and she didn’t seem to care.
‘Sweden is playing Belarus!’
He sensed her lack of comprehension and heaved another deep sigh. ‘The Olympic Games, Erica, the Olympics. Aren’t you aware that such an event is going on…?’
‘Oh, you mean the football match? Yes, of course I know about that. I thought you meant that there was something special tonight besides that.’
She spoke in an exaggerated tone, clearly showing she had no idea that there was a match tonight. She smiled because she knew Dan was literally tearing his hair out over such blasphemy. Sports were not a joking matter for him.
‘But I’ll come over and check out the match with you so I can see Salming crush the Russian defence…’
‘Salming! Don’t you know how many years it’s been since he retired? You’re kidding me, right? Tell me you’re kidding.’
‘Yes, Dan, I’m kidding. I’m not that daft. I’ll come over and check out Sundin, if that suits you better. Incredibly cute guy, by the way.’
He sighed heavily yet again. This time because she had been sacrilegious enough to speak of such a giant in the hockey world in terms other than purely athletic.
‘All right, come on over. But I don’t want a repeat of last time! No yakking during the match, no comments about how sexy the players look in their shinguards, and above all, no questions about whether they’re wearing jockstraps and if they wear underpants over them. Understood?’
Erica suppressed a laugh and said seriously, ‘Scout’s honour, Dan.’
He grunted. ‘You’ve never been a scout.’
‘No, precisely.’
Then she pressed the off button on her mobile phone.
Dan and Pernilla lived in one of the relatively new row-houses in Falkeliden. The houses stood in straight lines, climbing up along Rabekullen Hill, and they looked so much alike that it was almost impossible to tell one from the other. It was a popular area for families with children, mainly because the houses had no ocean view whatever and thus hadn’t climbed to such dizzying prices as the neighbourhoods closer to the sea.
The evening was much too cold to take a walk, but the car protested vehemently when she forced it up the icy hill, only moderately sanded. She turned into Dan and Pernilla’s street with a deep sigh of relief.
Erica rang the doorbell, which instantly set off a tumultuous tramping of little feet inside, and a second later the front door was pulled open by a little girl in pyjamas with feet-Lisen, Dan and Pernilla’s youngest. Fury swelled up in Malin, the middle girl, who thought it was unfair that Lisen got to open the door for Erica, and the squabble didn’t die down until Pernilla’s firm voice was heard from the kitchen. Belina, the oldest girl, was thirteen, and Erica had seen her down by Acke’s hot-dog kiosk surrounded by some downy-cheeked boys on mopeds when she drove past the square. Dan and Pernilla were certainly going to have their hands full with her.
After the girls each got a hug, they vanished as fast as they had appeared and left Erica to hang up her coat in peace and quiet.
Pernilla was out in the kitchen fixing dinner, with rosy cheeks and an apron with ‘Kiss the Cook’ printed in huge letters on it. She looked to be in the midst of a critical stage in her preparations, and merely waved a bit distractedly at Erica before she turned back to her pots and pans, steaming and sizzling. Erica continued into the living room, where she knew she would find Dan, ensconced on the sofa with his feet on the glass coffee-table and the remote control grasped firmly in his right hand.
‘Hi! I see that the male chauvinist pig is relaxing while the missus toils by the sweat of her brow in the kitchen.’
‘Hey, Erica! Yeah, you know, if you just show them who wears the trousers in the family and run the house with an iron hand, you can whip most women into
‘Sweden is playing Belarus!’
He sensed her lack of comprehension and heaved another deep sigh. ‘The Olympic Games, Erica, the Olympics. Aren’t you aware that such an event is going on…?’
‘Oh, you mean the football match? Yes, of course I know about that. I thought you meant that there was something special tonight besides that.’
She spoke in an exaggerated tone, clearly showing she had no idea that there was a match tonight. She smiled because she knew Dan was literally tearing his hair out over such blasphemy. Sports were not a joking matter for him.
‘But I’ll come over and check out the match with you so I can see Salming crush the Russian defence…’
‘Salming! Don’t you know how many years it’s been since he retired? You’re kidding me, right? Tell me you’re kidding.’
‘Yes, Dan, I’m kidding. I’m not that daft. I’ll come over and check out Sundin, if that suits you better. Incredibly cute guy, by the way.’
He sighed heavily yet again. This time because she had been sacrilegious enough to speak of such a giant in the hockey world in terms other than purely athletic.
‘All right, come on over. But I don’t want a repeat of last time! No yakking during the match, no comments about how sexy the players look in their shinguards, and above all, no questions about whether they’re wearing jockstraps and if they wear underpants over them. Understood?’
Erica suppressed a laugh and said seriously, ‘Scout’s honour, Dan.’
He grunted. ‘You’ve never been a scout.’
‘No, precisely.’
Then she pressed the off button on her mobile phone.
Dan and Pernilla lived in one of the relatively new row-houses in Falkeliden. The houses stood in straight lines, climbing up along Rabekullen Hill, and they looked so much alike that it was almost impossible to tell one from the other. It was a popular area for families with children, mainly because the houses had no ocean view whatever and thus hadn’t climbed to such dizzying prices as the neighbourhoods closer to the sea.
The evening was much too cold to take a walk, but the car protested vehemently when she forced it up the icy hill, only moderately sanded. She turned into Dan and Pernilla’s street with a deep sigh of relief.
Erica rang the doorbell, which instantly set off a tumultuous tramping of little feet inside, and a second later the front door was pulled open by a little girl in pyjamas with feet-Lisen, Dan and Pernilla’s youngest. Fury swelled up in Malin, the middle girl, who thought it was unfair that Lisen got to open the door for Erica, and the squabble didn’t die down until Pernilla’s firm voice was heard from the kitchen. Belina, the oldest girl, was thirteen, and Erica had seen her down by Acke’s hot-dog kiosk surrounded by some downy-cheeked boys on mopeds when she drove past the square. Dan and Pernilla were certainly going to have their hands full with her.
After the girls each got a hug, they vanished as fast as they had appeared and left Erica to hang up her coat in peace and quiet.
Pernilla was out in the kitchen fixing dinner, with rosy cheeks and an apron with ‘Kiss the Cook’ printed in huge letters on it. She looked to be in the midst of a critical stage in her preparations, and merely waved a bit distractedly at Erica before she turned back to her pots and pans, steaming and sizzling. Erica continued into the living room, where she knew she would find Dan, ensconced on the sofa with his feet on the glass coffee-table and the remote control grasped firmly in his right hand.
‘Hi! I see that the male chauvinist pig is relaxing while the missus toils by the sweat of her brow in the kitchen.’
‘Hey, Erica! Yeah, you know, if you just show them who wears the trousers in the family and run the house with an iron hand, you can whip most women into
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