back. ‘Got to say, it’s pretty forgiving of you.’
The smile hadn’t left her face. ‘What?’
‘Or is it open-minded?’
‘Sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Ellie. Your sister. Dating Jon.’
Abby felt as if she was falling. She was aware she was staring at Rory, her smile now rigid on her face.
‘You knew, right? Oh shit.’
She snapped out of it. ‘Course I knew,’ she lied. ‘Yeah. Look, I’m going to be late. Train to catch.’ She turned away. ‘Nice to see you,’ she called out before hurrying on, tears filling her eyes.
SEVENTY-FOUR
Ellie almost wavered as she walked down the stairs to the small bar, where legs of cured ham hung in the windows. It wasn’t as if she knew Fredrik well – this meeting had been agreed in a moment of madness, an escapist interlude from the last few days where her perspective on life had been picked up and thrown in the air. In fact, what the hell seemed a perfectly good motto by which to live right now, and thinking this strengthened her again as she walked in the door.
She saw him immediately and her stomach flipped, not with apprehension but with excitement. He looked over and she was gratified to see his eyes light up, and knew she’d done the right thing. He was over to her instantly, buying her a drink, and they found a table tucked away at the back of the room.
‘Thanks for agreeing to meet,’ said Fredrik. His tan had darkened and when he smiled the cracks along the sides of his eyes seemed even whiter.
‘It’s a nice break from the road trip,’ said Ellie.
‘How was France?’
‘Good,’ she replied, knowing she couldn’t tell him anything.
‘And now you’re in Spain!’
‘We just kept on going,’ said Ellie.
He nodded. There was a pause in the conversation where Ellie thought he was making a conscious effort to relax.
‘You look great,’ said Fredrik. ‘That dress suits you.’
Ellie glanced down. ‘It was from my sister. A gift.’
‘Nice gift.’ He spread his hands out. ‘Where is she?’
‘Who?’
‘Abby.’
Ellie tilted her head. ‘Abby?’
‘Yes, that’s right, isn’t it?’
‘Sure. I just don’t remember telling you her name.’
He smiled. ‘You did. When we met at the fountain.’
Ellie thought back. She couldn’t recall doing so, but it didn’t matter. She shrugged. ‘Honest answer is I don’t know. We had a bit of a falling-out.’
‘Sorry to hear that. Nothing serious, I hope?’
She shook her head. ‘Oh no. Just spent a lot of time together the last few days. Got a bit on top of each other, you know. She’s gone out for some space.’
‘You two close?’
Ellie laughed. ‘She’s hated me for most of my life.’
‘How come you’ve ended up on a road trip then?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘I’d like to know.’
Ellie shook her head. ‘No . . . I’ve only got a short while and then Abby will probably be back, rounding me up again. Do you have any siblings?’
‘I’m an only child.’
‘What was that like?’
‘I hated it. I was lonely my whole childhood.’
‘I had a sister but I was lonely too.’
‘I had this imaginary friend,’ said Fredrik, leaning conspiratorially towards her. ‘Aksel. Whenever I did something wrong, I used to blame him. Aksel broke the cup. Aksel took the chocolates from the cupboard. Aksel shaved off the dog’s fur with your razor, Daddy.’
Ellie laughed, incredulous. ‘You shaved off your dog’s fur?’
‘I wanted to see what it looked like underneath.’
‘Wasn’t the dog . . . cold?’
‘I didn’t do all of it. Just a patch.’
‘Oh, that’s OK then.’
He looked contrite. ‘Yeah . . . poor thing probably was a bit chilly. We lived in a small town north of Trondheim. It was January. There was a lot of snow.’
‘Lucky it was Aksel who got the blame, not you.’
‘Yeah . . . except my parents didn’t believe me.’
‘No!’
‘I know! Hard to fathom, eh? Especially as I described Aksel so vividly. He would just never show himself when needed. What about you?’
‘What about me?’
‘Did you have an imaginary scapegoat to take the blame for your innate awfulness?’
‘I was a good girl,’ said Ellie, smiling smugly. ‘Never did anything wrong.’
He laughed. ‘The perfect daughter, right?’
Ellie paused, reflective. ‘I was definitely the favourite. It was obvious. Which is why I don’t understand . . .’
‘What?’
She looked at him, wondering whether to say. These few minutes were probably the last she’d spend with him and then she’d never see him again. ‘My mother did something bad to me as a child. I’ve only just found out. But I don’t have the whole picture.’
‘Have you asked her?’
‘Not