The Circle (Hammer) - By Elfgren, Sara B.,Strandberg, Mats Page 0,93

hat and shoves it into his jacket pocket. ‘I just wanted to say thanks,’ he says.

‘For what?’

‘For listening. At the church. And for telling me to speak to Rebecka’s parents. I never would have dared otherwise. I felt like … well, if you could understand me, maybe they would, too.’

Minoo sees his eyes are wet. ‘What did they say?’ she asks.

‘They were happy I came to the funeral and weren’t angry with me. They understood. The newspapers had been after them, too. Rebecka’s mother also regretted having spoken to Cissi. It was … nice. We sat there crying together.’

Now she understands what Rebecka saw in Gustaf. He has an incredible openness. Minoo wonders how he manages it in a town like this, where a guy’s identified as gay for the least display of emotion. It means social death. ‘Great,’ she says. ‘That everything went well, I mean.’

Gustaf nods and gives her a quick hug. Suddenly she wishes she knew him better. He lets her go and disappears down the corridor.

She is just about to go up the stairs when she sees Max on the landing above, holding a coffee cup. He smiles at her and continues up towards the classroom. Minoo remains where she is.

There hadn’t been a trace of warmth in that smile or the slightest hint that they had a shared secret. It had been a teacher’s smile to a student. Any student.

Anna-Karin gets off the bus and starts walking home. It’s stopped snowing and the white blanket stretches across the countryside. She hadn’t had the energy to stay at school past lunch so for once it’s still light when she arrives. That’s the worst thing about this time of year for Anna-Karin: it’s dark when she goes to school and dark when she gets home.

Grandpa is standing outside the barn talking to Jari’s father, who’s over today to fix the roof on Grandpa’s cabin. It’s hard to imagine that Jari and his father are related. His father is short and stocky, almost cube-shaped.

Anna-Karin stands to the side until he climbs into his car and drives off, and she’s left alone with Grandpa.

‘Hello,’ Grandpa says, when he catches sight of her.

‘Hi.’ Anna-Karin walks up to him.

Grandpa looks up at the sky. ‘If it were summer I’d say we were in for lightning,’ he says.

Anna-Karin follows his gaze. The sky is an infinite mass of nothing. An even greyish-white without end. ‘What do you mean?’ she asks.

‘Can’t you feel that the air is full of electricity?’ he says. ‘Some kind of discharge is on the way, no doubt about it.’ He looks straight at her. ‘Can’t you feel it?’

She shakes her head silently. Grandpa is like a living barometer. And he can read more than just the weather. He always knows exactly how the animals on the farm are feeling. It’s as if they tell him in some mysterious way. And several times he’s helped people in the area find water with his divining rod. He doesn’t make an issue of these things. It’s just something he does. But this time he seems confused by what Nature is telling him.

‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ he mutters, and spits into the snow. Then he attempts a smile. ‘Maybe I’m going senile.’

‘Stop it, Grandpa,’ says Anna-Karin. She hates it when he talks like that.

His eyes are distant. ‘I almost hope it’s just the figment of an old man’s imagination,’ he says. ‘I’m woken at night by whispering in the trees. And every morning when I look out of the window the forest seems to have closed in a little more tightly around us. It’s as if it’s preparing itself.’

‘For what?’ she asks.

He stares at her. It’s as if they are standing on opposite shores of a sea, and Grandpa is trying to work out a way to cross to her side. ‘Sweetheart …’ he begins.

Everything unsaid stands between them. And that’s so much. A whole sea of silence that has been there all Anna-Karin’s life.

‘I know I’m not always good at talking about … certain things,’ Grandpa continues. ‘We men didn’t learn how to do it in my day. But I hope you know that I … that I love you.’

Anna-Karin is embarrassed. She wants to say she loves him, too, but she’s unable to speak.

‘And I would love you no matter what mistakes you made. Even if you did something wrong, I’d love you, and if someone wanted to hurt you, I’d defend you with the last drop of