The Journey to the End of the World (Joel Gustafson Stories) by Henning Mankell Page A

made a mistake.
    Something was very wrong.

5
    The cold wind drifted away.
    Then they started quarrelling. As far as Joel was concerned it was obvious that they should now start looking for the block of flats where Jenny lived, but Samuel thought they ought to wait.
    ‘Wait for what?’ Joel wondered. ‘There is no grocer’s shop. Perhaps there isn’t a flat either.’
    ‘Of course there is.’
    As Samuel answered he beckoned to a waitress and ordered some more coffee.
    ‘You’ve just had a cup,’ said Joel.
    ‘It was very weak coffee.’
    ‘It will be getting dark by the time we find the place where she lives.’
    ‘I think we can wait for a bit. Besides, we don’t have Celestine with us.’
    Joel could feel himself growing really angry. He wasn’t sure what was causing it. There was the business of the rucksack and The Black Wave. The harbour with the cargo ships being miles away from where they were. The grocer’s shop that didn’t exist. Samuel and all his cups of coffee. And finally that cold wind. Anxiety. The feeling that something was wrong.
    It was something to do with the letter from Elinor. The letter he hadn’t been allowed to see for himself.
    ‘Hurry up and drink your coffee, and let’s get away from here.’
    Samuel didn’t respond.
    Joel stood up.
    ‘I’ll find the place where she lives myself.’
    ‘Sit down,’ said Samuel. ‘I think we should wait until tomorrow.’
    ‘Why do we always have to wait for everything?’
    Samuel pointed up at the sky.
    ‘It’ll start raining again shortly.’
    ‘There are trams. And there are buses.’
    ‘Do you know which ones go where?’
    ‘You can find out.’
    Samuel put his cup down on its saucer. He tried to sound firm and decisive.
    ‘We shall do as I say. We’ll wait until tomorrow.’
    They started walking back to the hotel, the same way as they’d come. Samuel first, Joel following a couple of paces behind. As they approached the Royal Palace it started raining again. There was nowhere to shelter. The rain was bucketing down. By the time they reached the hotel they were soaked through and through. After drying himself down Joel was forced to put on one of Samuel’s shirts. He hung his trousers over the radiator.
    Joel felt like a prisoner. Without any dry trousers, he was stuck in the hotel room.
    He sat on the edge of his bed and carefully unfolded the wet map. There was the street where Mummy Jenny lived – Östgötagatan. They had been quite close by. But Samuel had insisted on waiting.
    Joel knew full well it had nothing to do with the rain.
    Samuel was lying on his bed. He hadn’t said a word since they got back to the hotel room. And now he’d fallen asleep. Joel had his back to him, but could hear the snores.
    He didn’t know where the determination came from, but before he knew where he was, he had made up his mind. Carefully, so as not to disturb Samuel, he got up from his creaky bed.
    Samuel’s suitcase was lying open on the floor. Joel searched through it, but the letter from Elinor wasn’t there. Joel felt in all the pockets in Samuel’s clothes, but it wasn’t there either.
    So it was true. The letter really was at home.
    He looked out of the window. Just for a brief moment he felt ashamed. He hadn’t believed that Samuel was telling the truth.
    Perhaps the simple fact was that Samuel was nervous. He needed time to steel himself before meeting Jenny again.
    But why couldn’t he just explain things as they were? Why did he need to hide behind lots of coffee cups all the time?
    Joel felt his trousers. They had started to dry. Then he looked at Samuel. He was asleep. His chest was rising and falling. Fast asleep.
    Joel couldn’t stand being cooped up in the hotel room any longer. He put his trousers on. And his shoes, which were wet as well. He borrowed a dry pair of socks from Samuel’s suitcase.
    Samuel had a pencil in his jacket pocket. Joel tore off a piece of the margin of the map and wrote a note.
    I’ve