for nature, but it was often swept away overnight.
Bill and Gerlof parted company at the northern end of the road leading to the village.
‘Give me your phone number,’ Gerlof said. ‘We’re fixing up the boat, so we might manage a fishing trip towards the end of the summer.’
‘Great. And there are more old Americans here on the island who would love to come along, if there’s room.’
‘Possibly,’ Gerlof said. ‘But when it comes to groups, Bill … I think I prefer birds.’
Lisa
After half an hour, the celebrations were over. They finished off with the song about the three old ladies from Nora, then all the children had to scream as loudly as they could, pretending to be rockets shooting off into the sky.
Then everybody let out a long breath and set off home. The only trace of the dance was wide circles of trampled-down grass around the maypole. Lisa took off her guitar and relaxed.
‘Well done,’ Sune said.
‘Thanks.’
He nodded in the direction of the village bar and restaurant.
‘I hear you’re playing there this summer?’
‘A few times, yes, but mostly down at the Ölandic Resort.’
That reminded her of something important. ‘What about the money?’
‘Money?’
‘Who do I talk to about getting paid?’
‘Not us,’ Sune said quickly. ‘Talk to Kloss.’
Lisa recognized the name; someone called Kloss had booked her through the agency.
‘Veronica or Kent,’ Sune went on. ‘They’re over there.’
Lisa saw a group of four adults and four teenage boys on the far side of the maypole. They looked just as happy as all the other families who had been there.
She went to put the guitar back in her car. She had calmed down now, after racing against the clock to get here. She was free now; no more music today.
Just the money
, Silas whispered in her head.
The Kloss family were waiting. She went over to them, directing her biggest smile at the woman nearest to her.
‘Veronica Kloss? I’m Lisa Turesson – you called me last week …’
The woman looked anxious and held up a defensive hand.
‘Not me,’ she said. ‘I am not fru Kloss. I am Paulina.’
Her Swedish was hesitant; she sounded Eastern European. Foreign cleaner, Lisa thought, then wished she hadn’t.
The other woman in the group stepped forward. She was in her forties, but her face was unlined. She had attractive dimples.
‘Hi, Lisa,’ she said. ‘I’m Veronica. Well done – thank you!’
‘You’re welcome,’ Lisa said, taking a deep breath. ‘I was just wondering about the money?’
‘We’ll sort that out. You’re going to play some more, aren’t you? In our restaurant and the nightclub?’
Lisa nodded quickly.
‘I’m here until the end of July, but I could do with some cash to be going on with …’
‘Of course,’ Veronica said. She took out her purse and handed over two notes, without asking for a receipt.
Meanwhile, one of the men had come over to Lisa.
‘Kent Kloss – welcome to the village,’ he said. ‘Would you like to join us at the house for a Cosmo?’
‘Sorry?’
‘A Cosmopolitan on our patio?’
Kent Kloss was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, just like the teenagers, and Lisa thought it was hard to make a guess at his age. His face was that of a middle-aged man, but he was smiling like a boy.
‘No, thanks,’ Lisa said. ‘Best not. I’m driving.’
‘So?’ Kloss said. ‘It’s a holiday!’
Lisa put on her best professional smile.
‘Thanks, anyway.’
Veronica Kloss took a key out of her pocket and pointed in the direction of the water.
‘You’re staying down there, on the campsite. We have a number of static caravans for our staff, right by the water. It’s a little primitive, but there’s no charge … and the view is fantastic. Is that OK?’
‘Brilliant,’ Lisa said.
But as she walked back to the car she was overcome with tiredness.
A static caravan.
She had been hoping for a little red chalet by the sea, pretty and cosy.
But, of course,
Bill and Gerlof parted company at the northern end of the road leading to the village.
‘Give me your phone number,’ Gerlof said. ‘We’re fixing up the boat, so we might manage a fishing trip towards the end of the summer.’
‘Great. And there are more old Americans here on the island who would love to come along, if there’s room.’
‘Possibly,’ Gerlof said. ‘But when it comes to groups, Bill … I think I prefer birds.’
Lisa
After half an hour, the celebrations were over. They finished off with the song about the three old ladies from Nora, then all the children had to scream as loudly as they could, pretending to be rockets shooting off into the sky.
Then everybody let out a long breath and set off home. The only trace of the dance was wide circles of trampled-down grass around the maypole. Lisa took off her guitar and relaxed.
‘Well done,’ Sune said.
‘Thanks.’
He nodded in the direction of the village bar and restaurant.
‘I hear you’re playing there this summer?’
‘A few times, yes, but mostly down at the Ölandic Resort.’
That reminded her of something important. ‘What about the money?’
‘Money?’
‘Who do I talk to about getting paid?’
‘Not us,’ Sune said quickly. ‘Talk to Kloss.’
Lisa recognized the name; someone called Kloss had booked her through the agency.
‘Veronica or Kent,’ Sune went on. ‘They’re over there.’
Lisa saw a group of four adults and four teenage boys on the far side of the maypole. They looked just as happy as all the other families who had been there.
She went to put the guitar back in her car. She had calmed down now, after racing against the clock to get here. She was free now; no more music today.
Just the money
, Silas whispered in her head.
The Kloss family were waiting. She went over to them, directing her biggest smile at the woman nearest to her.
‘Veronica Kloss? I’m Lisa Turesson – you called me last week …’
The woman looked anxious and held up a defensive hand.
‘Not me,’ she said. ‘I am not fru Kloss. I am Paulina.’
Her Swedish was hesitant; she sounded Eastern European. Foreign cleaner, Lisa thought, then wished she hadn’t.
The other woman in the group stepped forward. She was in her forties, but her face was unlined. She had attractive dimples.
‘Hi, Lisa,’ she said. ‘I’m Veronica. Well done – thank you!’
‘You’re welcome,’ Lisa said, taking a deep breath. ‘I was just wondering about the money?’
‘We’ll sort that out. You’re going to play some more, aren’t you? In our restaurant and the nightclub?’
Lisa nodded quickly.
‘I’m here until the end of July, but I could do with some cash to be going on with …’
‘Of course,’ Veronica said. She took out her purse and handed over two notes, without asking for a receipt.
Meanwhile, one of the men had come over to Lisa.
‘Kent Kloss – welcome to the village,’ he said. ‘Would you like to join us at the house for a Cosmo?’
‘Sorry?’
‘A Cosmopolitan on our patio?’
Kent Kloss was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, just like the teenagers, and Lisa thought it was hard to make a guess at his age. His face was that of a middle-aged man, but he was smiling like a boy.
‘No, thanks,’ Lisa said. ‘Best not. I’m driving.’
‘So?’ Kloss said. ‘It’s a holiday!’
Lisa put on her best professional smile.
‘Thanks, anyway.’
Veronica Kloss took a key out of her pocket and pointed in the direction of the water.
‘You’re staying down there, on the campsite. We have a number of static caravans for our staff, right by the water. It’s a little primitive, but there’s no charge … and the view is fantastic. Is that OK?’
‘Brilliant,’ Lisa said.
But as she walked back to the car she was overcome with tiredness.
A static caravan.
She had been hoping for a little red chalet by the sea, pretty and cosy.
But, of course,
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