Tanya stopped.
I should ask about Irina, Humlin thought. But now is hardly the time.
Tanya took a phone out of her pocket and dialled a number. Humlin thought he heard a lullaby start playing nearby, in a place he couldn’t see from where he was sitting, but where he imagined the bag lady was still sleeping with her head resting against the old gravestone.
A gravestone where the inscription had long since crumbled away.
After the interlude in the cemetery, Humlin and Tanya went shopping and carried home bags full of groceries. His mother was preparing a meal in the kitchen. Humlin sat down in the living room and listened to the sound of laughter and clattering pots. He knew he needed to think of what to do next. The girls couldn’t stay here for ever. I have to draft the next chapter, he thought, as if what was happening was only part of a novel and not something real. The phone rang and his mother answered. Humlin listened anxiously but her voice sounded quite normal, no moaning. She came over and handed him the receiver.
‘How can it be for me? No one knows I’m here.’
‘I made sure to tell the people who needed to know.’
‘But I specifically asked you not to mention this to a soul.’
‘I haven’t said anything about the girls and that boy. But we never said anything about keeping your whereabouts secret.’
‘Who is it?’ Humlin asked.
‘Your wife.’
‘I don’t have a wife. Is it Andrea?’
‘Who else would it be?’
Andrea was clearly irritated.
‘Why haven’t you called me?’
‘I thought I made it clear that certain difficulties had presented themselves, difficulties that needed my immediate attention.’
‘That still doesn’t mean you can’t pick up the phone once in a while.’
‘I can’t talk right now. I don’t have the energy.’
‘Get back in touch when you regain it, then. But don’t be too sure I’ll be waiting around for you.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Exactly what you think it does. Olof Lundin called, by the way. He had something important to discuss with you.’
‘What was it?’
‘He didn’t tell me. You can call him at the office. Oh, and someone called Anders Burén called. He said he had a great idea he wanted to run by you.’
‘He always does. Last time he wanted to make me into the equivalent of a tourist hotel in the mountains. I don’t want to talk to him.’
‘And I don’t want to be your secretary.’
Andrea hung up. I’m the one who makes her sound whiny, Humlin thought despondently. She wasn’t like that when we met. As usual the fault lies with me.
He dialled Lundin’s number.
‘Why don’t you ever call?’
Lundin was out of breath and Humlin imagined he must have just jumped off the rowing machine.
‘I’ve been in Gothenburg dealing with some things.’
‘You mean those fat girls? How many times do I have to tell you, you don’t have time for that right now. We’re getting ready to publish the first chapter of
‘What book is that?’
‘The book you are in the process of writing. I was forced to come up with a title. It’s not half bad, is it?’
Humlin turned cold.
‘I’ve already told you I’m not writing a crime novel and you can shove that title up your arse.’
‘I don’t much care for your language. Unfortunately it’s too late to change the title at this stage.’
Humlin lost his composure and started to scream. Tea-Bag came into the room at that moment, carrying a tray with plates and silverware. She stopped when she caught sight of him, looking at him with curiosity. In some way her presence gave him more courage and strength than he would ordinarily have been able to muster.
‘I’m not going to write your damned crime novel. How could you have come up with such an idiotic title? How have you even had the nerve to write the blurb of a book that doesn’t exist? That will never get written? I’m leaving your company.’
‘You say that, but you don’t mean it.’
‘I have never been so outraged in my entire life.’
