The Lily Pond Read Free Page B

for a moment, and his jaw muscles stiffen. Then he laughs and settles in at the kitchen table, too.
    “All right, I’ll have my dinner here as well, then. That is, Elna, if there’s anything left for me.”
    Elna hurries to set out a plate, a glass, and cutlery and to heat up the leftover Sunday roast.
    “When did you arrive?” Sven asks.
    “Yesterday.”
    “Alone?”
    “Aunt Märta came along.”
    Their words come out one by one, like drops from a dripping faucet. It’s as if they have become shy with each other, not having seen each other for so long.
    When Sven and his family rented Aunt Märta and Uncle Evert’s house on the island over the summer, she and Sven weren’t bashful. Sven is five years her senior, but he always treated Stephie as his equal. They took Putte for long walks and talked about everything: books they had read, the war, the future.
    In spite of his parents’ wishes that he become a doctor or a lawyer, Sven is planning to be a writer. One time he read Stephie a short story he’d written. It was about a young man who volunteered for the Spanish Civil War, to fight for freedom and democracy. The story wasn’t actually about the soldier, but about his younger brother, who wasn’t old enough to go along. The story described the younger brother’s feelings when he finally heard the news that his brother had been killed. Stephie thought the story was good, though she couldn’t imagine why anyone would volunteer for a war.
    And now they’re sitting at the kitchen table, being shy with each other. Sven eats his roast veal, potatoes, gravy, and cucumber salad. Stephie pokes at her gooseberrycompote. Elna has shut Putte out of the kitchen and is sweeping up the mess on the floor.
    Mrs. Söderberg comes into the kitchen.
    “Goodness, Sven. Why are you sitting in here?” she asks, startled.
    “Did you think I’d have dinner by myself in the dining room?” he asks back. “You’ve already eaten.”
    “All right,” says his mother. “When you’re finished, change your clothes. We’re going to the station to pick up Karin and Olle. Father promised them a lift to their new apartment, since they have so much luggage.”
    “You go ahead,” says Sven. “I think I’ll take Stephanie for a walk and show her the way to her new school.”
    His mother opens her mouth to protest, but Sven is faster.
    “How is she supposed to find it in the morning otherwise?” he asks. “Are you going to walk her there? Is Elna? I won’t have time. I start at eight myself.”
    “I see. You can’t be bothered to welcome your sister back,” his mother says, but her tone makes it clear she has abandoned the fight.
    “Don’t mope, Mamma,” says Sven. “We’ll walk Putte at the same time so no one will have to do it later.”
    When his mother has left the kitchen, Sven says, “Families are all right, but I prefer them in small doses. I’ll have a shower and change my clothes, and we’ll leave in half an hour. Okay?”
    Stephie nods. She helps Elna clean up the kitchen when Sven vanishes to the bathroom. Then she waits in her room. She hears Sven pass by in the hall, whistling. A few minutes later there’s a knock on the door between their rooms.
    “Ready?”
    With Putte trailing his leash, they run down the four flights of stairs. Putte’s so eager to get out that he beats them to the door, then stands there glaring as if to ask what took them so long.
    Once they’re outside, Sven turns left from the doorway, and shortly left again. This brings them down to the wide tree-lined avenue, but not at the same spot where Stephie and Aunt Märta got off the tram yesterday.
    In front of them is an open square with yellow brick buildings on three sides. They’re all very modern, with shiny glass-and-chrome details on the facades. A fountain—at the center of which is a statue of a huge man with seaweed in his hair, surrounded by fish and sea creatures—sits in the middle of the square.
    “That’s