CHAPTER 35
THE TRUTH WAS THAT she didn’t feel very much like going home to Länninge, but she didn’t really have a choice. Aunt Gullan had returned to Spain and her dad was on his own. She knew that he was waiting for her.
If Tobias hadn’t turned up she would have been happy to go, she wanted to help her dad as much as she could. It was hard enough being a widower; he didn’t have to be lonely as well. Maybe it would have been good if he’d had his job, thought Agnes. Set times and a time card, friends and colleagues, lunchbox and a betting pool with Pelle, Gert, Olof and whatever they were called. All the security that a life-long job could give. But there was no point having such thoughts: the factory was closed and if his former colleagues wanted to keep up the betting pools, it would have to be under different circumstances. She hoped that they were thinking of Sven, that all those people who’d been at the funeral would get in touch. Support and encourage him. He was going to need all the help he could get.
Agnes had called him almost every day. She realized that he was going to great pains to sound as if everything was normal, but it was heartbreakingly obvious that it wasn’t. The fact that Agnes suddenly had good cause to stay at home one weekend was definitely no reason to do so.
She didn’t want to take Tobias to Länninge either. Not yet. She at least wanted to forewarn Madde first. That would be no less tricky than it had been with Lussan, she realized. Agnes fingered the locket hanging round her neck. She hoped that Madde would also see that Tobias had changed. That he’d apologized and meant it. If not, she could at least accept that Agnes needed him at that moment.
Agnes moaned regretfully to Tobias, said that she’d much rather have stayed with him over the weekend now that she was off for once, but Tobias told her not to worry. He’d still be there. They had all the time in the world. There was no hurry.
When she left on the Saturday morning, he was still sleeping, lying on his stomach with both arms around the pillow. His hair had fallen over his face like a curtain. He was snoring gently and one leg was sticking out from under the comforter. Agnes crept silently away. There was no point waking him.
On Snickarvägen, everything was the same. Everything and nothing. The house looked just as it always had. Her mom’s apron hung on a hook by the oven, and her pearl clip-ons lay in a bowl on the chest of drawers in the hall. It was obvious that Sven didn’t know what to do with it all. After lunch, prepared by Agnes, she suggested a little cautiously that they should go through her mom’s things. See if there was something they could get rid of. Give away, maybe? Sven nodded.
“Do you want to help? Or shall I have a look on my own? I thought I might start in the bathroom.”
Sven looked anguished. “You go ahead,” he said. “I’ll join you later.”
Agnes went into the bathroom and opened the bathroom cabinet. It was full of tubes, bottles, and jars. Maud hadn’t been a vain woman, but she’d looked after her skin. Albeit with not particularly expensive products. Agnes removed the cleansing milk, facial wash, day cream, and night cream. All the same Boot’s brand, all for dry skin. In a little glass pot with a pink lid lay some mysterious small gel-like balls. Agnes read the label. Time Capsules, it read. They promised to turn back time. If only. Agnes knew to exactly where, if it had been up to her. But it wasn’t; the pot of Time Capsules, just like all other miracle products, was just full of promises that could never be kept.
She continued to take things and put them in a plastic bag. Setting lotion, hairspray, hairbrush, powder, and an ancient turquoise eye shadow by Rimmel. Agnes couldn’t recall ever having seen her mother in turquoise eye shadow. The logo’s typeface suggested that it could very well have been from the eighties. A crusty tube of mascara was also one of the products to head straight for the trash. The skin cream she left. Men also needed skin cream, even if they didn’t realize it themselves.
When Agnes was done, the bathroom cabinet was almost empty and the bag on the floor almost full. She tried to distribute her dad’s things to make the cabinet look less barren. She put a bottle of Old Spice on a shelf in the middle and lay the razor beside it; the shaving cream stood on its own shelf and the deodorant had a lot of room beside the tube of skin cream. She almost started to cry when she saw how much empty space there was. The hole left by her mom. Then she heard her dad’s steps approaching the bathroom. Agnes stretched. It wasn’t the right time to start crying; she was there to support her dad, not the other way round.
“There,” she said as breezily as she could, lifting the bag up from the floor. “I’ll take care of these.”
Her dad walked over to the cabinet and opened the door. He remained standing for a while studying the result. Agnes almost regretted not having left a few more items. And then he cleared his throat self-consciously.
“Hmm, you haven’t by any chance thrown away my pot of.…”
“Of?”
“Of these small…” He illustrated with his fingers something the size of a pea. Agnes bent down and fished the pot of Time Capsules out of the bag.
“Are these what you mean?”
“Yes, exactly.”
Agnes couldn’t help laughing. “Were they yours?”
Her dad smiled a little embarrassedly. “Oh, I gave them to Maud as a birthday present once. They’d said in the perfumery shop that they were very good, but she never used them. She just used that Boot’s No. 7 stuff, or whatever it’s called, so I gave them a go. And I thought they felt really nice. It’s like an oil inside. It makes your cheeks as smooth as a baby’s bottom.” He gave a laugh. “I use them when I want to make myself a bit special.”
Agnes walked up to her dad and gave him a hug. “You’re always special, you know that.”
“By the way,” he said. “I haven’t shown you what we got this week. Come on.” Agnes followed Sven into the living room. On the coffee table was a copy of Just Gardening. Sven picked it up. “Look at this,” he said, flicking quickly through it. Agnes wondered what could be of such interest in that magazine and waited a little expectantly. He found the right spot and pointed triumphantly at a double-page spread showing pictures of seed packets, straw hats, pruning shears, and rakes. “There!” he said. Agnes looked more closely. Under the heading “Genuine Gardening Joy” she could read: At Maud and Sven Edin’s in Länninge, the fruit trees are in bloom all year round. At least on their web site, that is. Here you can find out all about the family garden: maintenance, problems, and little causes for rejoicing, all conveyed with great love and experience. Don’t miss their tip on how to deter deer! Go to www.gardenofedin.se.
Agnes looked in surprise at her dad. “That’s great! Have you had any visitors to your site?”
Sven’s smile vanished. “I haven’t actually looked to see,” he said.
“Why not?” Agnes immediately regretted her question. “Oh, I understand,” she added hastily. “Can we go and have a look now?”
“You know, I’m not sure I.…”
“Come on, please.”
Sven looked like he was searching for a reasonable excuse, but eventually gave up. “OK, come on then.”
They went down to the cellar. In the darkness, they could see how dusty the screen was. Agnes wiped it with a sleeve while Sven switched on the computer. It took a good while before they were in on their web site. Her dad did everything slowly, every maneuver seemingly filled with resistance. Agnes felt sorry for him, but there was nothing she could do other than look on with a supportive hand on his shoulder.
As soon as they were in, Sven let out a little cry of surprise.
“What is it?” wondered Agnes.
“Well I’ll be. We’ve had 887 visitors.”
“Is that how many have gone onto your home page?”
“Yes.”
“But that’s a lot!”
“Yes, it is.” Sven couldn’t help laughing. “Look here in our guestbook! Over forty people have written in it.” He started to read half aloud to himself. Agnes read over his sh
oulder. Thanks for a nice homepage with wonderful photos and great advice… The idea of using a fox fur stole sounds particularly interesting, I’ll definitely give it a try… Have you got any tips for my peony? The buds are going black and aren’t developing… I never knew you could grow Rhododendron yakushimanum so far north, what a fine specimen! … Try spreading lime around your honeysuckle, the problem might be too much acidity in the soil… Sven sat absorbed by the letters, occasionally humming to himself. Agnes squeezed his shoulder and crept away up the stairs.
It took an hour for Sven to reappear. He’d been replying to some of the questions, he said. For the rest of the evening he was lost in his own thoughts. He had been earlier, too, but it was different now. He was no longer broody; he was more pensive somehow. When Agnes sat down in front of the television, Sven excused himself and said he was just going off to work a little more on the computer. There were one or two things on the web site that needed updating. Agnes watched him walk away into the hall. He had a spring in his step and Agnes even thought she heard him humming as he descended the stairs. Was it really possible, she wondered, that three lines in a gardening magazine could bring about such a change in someone?
On Sunday morning she became even more convinced that that was so. After breakfast, Sven pulled on his gloves and boots. On his head he put a straw hat, purchased on a trip to Crete three years ago, to protect him from the blazing spring sunshine.
“If I don’t get those wretched tomato plants into the soil now, there’ll be no tomatoes this year,” he said and walked, with his boots on, out through the veranda door. On the kitchen floor lay small clumps of dry mud that had loosened from the soles. Agnes picked up the worst of them and wiped around with a dishcloth to get the rest. She felt at ease. Madde was expecting, her dad was planting tomatoes, and she’d got Tobias back.
Her mom was dead, nothing could change that, but the family would pull through. She knew that now.
CHAPTER 36
TOBIAS HAD REALLY CHANGED. It was so obvious. He was considerate like never before, always saying where he was going when he went out and what time he was planning to return. He asked about how things had been at work, cooked dinner – albeit just the once – and wrote little shopping lists for Agnes if she ran out of something. He stayed in more in the evenings, too. At least on the evenings when Agnes was free. They watched TV together and Agnes listened while he practiced the guitar – perhaps not for all three hours in one stretch, but she’d remain on the sofa for half an hour at least. Sometimes he’d turn to face her and play her something. Angie, for example, the Stones song, which he’d renamed Agnes. This would make her feel a little silly, embarrassed, but Tobias’s sincerity made her let go. Those were nice, intimate times.
The restaurant chugged along. There was still a dearth of guests, although they did have more than the first month. The increase was not enough to reassure Kalle. He grew quieter and quieter, and Agnes often caught him sitting with piles of paper and a calculator at one of the tables when she arrived in the afternoon. Now he didn’t even complain and would just go around looking miserable. In the end, Agnes had to ask him how they were doing, although really she didn’t want to know. Kalle sighed in resignation.
“We can last the month, and that’s it.”
Agnes sat on the chair opposite him. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”
Kalle shook his head. “Sure. We could start serving inferior meals made from cheaper ingredients, but I’d rather go bankrupt any time.” He clenched his jaw and straightened his back, but after a second or two slumped down again. “I’d really been pinning my hopes on that review,” he said quietly. “I don’t understand why it hasn’t come out.”
“I guess she’s being thorough.”
“Maybe she is, but what else is there for her to check? She’s eaten her way through our entire menu. I thought it would’ve come out on Saturday, but it was that fish restaurant on Linnégatan instead. Now we have to wait two weeks for the next review, and if it’s not us, we might as well call it a day.”
Agnes wanted to say something encouraging, but she had a feeling that there wouldn’t be much point. Kalle was right in what he said; it was impossible to run a restaurant that made a loss pretty much every evening.
“It would be a real pity,” she said in an attempt to console him. “I’ve really believed in this restaurant.”
“Me, too.” They sat in silence for a while pondering on the restaurant’s impending fate. Then Kalle got to his feet. “But we haven’t closed down yet!” He was trying to sound cheery, but couldn’t really pull it off. “Time to get cracking.”
If it was an answer to their prayers or not, Agnes didn’t know, but whatever it was the evening started well. The restaurant was almost full by eight, and just when things had really started to heat up in the kitchen, and Kalle and Filip were literally sweating away, another party showed up. Five men dressed in black, some wearing dark glasses and others with large, glistening belt buckles, climbed down the step. Agnes looked apprehensively around her. Maybe she’d be able to squeeze them into the corner, if one of them could sit at the end of the table? It was then that she noticed Tobias among them. He winked at her.
“I’ve brought a few guests,” he said happily.
“Is it you?” Agnes was surprised, but quickly recovered. “That’s great, come in, come in!” Agnes pressed his hand but wriggled away when he tried to kiss her. “You can sit down over there.”
Two of the party went to the coatroom and propped their guitar cases against the wall. Musician colleagues, probably. The noise level in the restaurant was raised considerably after the entrance of the five men, but Agnes wasn’t complaining. They ordered both starter and main course, and even by the first half hour she’d served them eight large beers.
She had a lot on her hands. If they’d known there was going to be such a crowd, they’d naturally have called in Pernilla or Henrik, but it was a bit late for that. And then to top it all, Lussan turned up, too. As usual, she didn’t want any food and sat herself straight down at the bar where another couple had already made themselves comfortable in the armchairs with their vodka cranberries. Agnes poured her a glass of wine. Even though they had no time to talk, Agnes was glad that she’d come. It had to mean that at least she wasn’t cross any more.
There wasn’t a single calm moment that evening. They even had to turn away a few guests there was no room for. Agnes worked like a dog to get everything done, and by ten things had quieted slightly and just a few of the tables were still occupied. Only three were left of the gang, including Tobias. He left the other two at the table and walked over to Agnes and Lussan at the bar. Lussan looked at him in disgust.
“So how’s it going for our little ‘rock hero’ then?” she said, making no attempt to conceal her sarcasm. Tobias didn’t rise to the bait.
“Fine, thanks.”
“I see you’ve brought some friends.”
“Yes, they’re musicians.”
“I’d never have guessed. Have you by any chance all been cloned from the same rock cell – Keith Richards’s old toenail, perhaps?”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Agnes started to get nervous. Lussan wasn’t angry at her any more, but she was definitely on a roll when it came to Tobias. Agnes excused herself and went out to the dining room. When she returned they were still at it.
“Millennium of Rock, you say? So that’s a thousand years of rock, then.” Lussan smiled wickedly.
“Yes, with Chris Hammond.” Tobias looked proud. A lump developed in Agnes’s stomach. He clearly hadn’t seen Lussan’s trap.
“How interesting. Which rock band was around in the thirteenth century? Remind me, my memory’s a bit rusty.”
“What do you mean, thirteenth century?” Tobias was starting to look suspicious.
“Or the fifteenth century? There must be a huge amount of good rock music to choose from if you’ve got a whole millennium to rumma
ge around in. But then it is ‘The Greatest Rock Show Ever’ you’re working with, isn’t it?”
“Lussan, do you want anything else?” Agnes tried to change the subject.
“Yes, please.” She drank up the last of her wine and pushed her glass forward for a refill. “I’m just having a little chat with Tobias here about this show he’s working on.” She readied herself for a fresh attack. “So when you say ‘ever,’ do you mean ‘ever’ during this millennium or is it ‘ever’ since the beginning of time?” Tobias tried to keep up with her, but wasn’t having much luck. “I mean,” continued Lussan, “when you think about it, it’s actually incredible how narrow-minded people are. It’s amazing how many people can go no further back than Chuck Berry and Elvis Presley when they talk about rock. What do they think Cro-Magnon man bopped his loincloth off to? Why, rock music of course! And just think, Chris Hammond and you and your friends have now chosen these lovely old songs and brought them together into one stupendous stage show! Why, it’s wonderful! What a cultural achievement!” Lussan was really in her element. Tobias, who’d just sat there gaping, finally got up from the barstool and turned towards Agnes.
“Listen, I think it’s time for us to go now.”
“Oh, already? OK.… In that case I’ll see you back at the apartment.”
“Maybe I’ll be a bit late. We’re probably going somewhere else.”
“OK.” Agnes nodded. That actually wasn’t such a bad idea. It had been one hell of an evening and she was likely to fall asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. “I’ll get your bill,” she said and went off to the till. Tobias scurried after her.
“But, you know, I thought that… Well, you know, I got some guys to come along as I thought you needed a bit of publicity for this place. I mean, now they can go and tell their friends that this restaurant wasn’t at all bad… if you get my drift.” Tobias was looking pleased with himself.
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