going off into a musical ‘har har har har har’ when Josie slipped and landed on her face.
Eventually, Nico called a halt. ‘Time to go to Gamla Stan.’ He took Maria on his shoulders for the ten-minute walk, a mode of transport they both favoured over the buggy, which he’d left in Nässjö in any case.
They ambled across Vasabron gazing at the rushing water and the boats, the network of bridges connecting various parts of the city filled with cars or trains. Under the arches of the soaring parliamentary buildings Maria demanded to be returned to ground level to inspect the concrete lions placed in the streets as barriers to a repeat of the Stockholm truck attack. ‘RAAAAAH!’ she roared in her tiny voice, curling her fingers into claws as the lion gazed peaceably out from under his snow blanket. Nico was glad the innocence of children associated the lions with play, rather than the mowing down of innocent people who’d done nothing worse than be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
They turned uphill, passing shops and restaurants with blackboards offering hot chocolate, skirting the Nobel Museum, the old Stock Exchange, to browse the colourful Christmas market of Stortorget nestled between the buildings painted sage green, amber, blood red, pink or shades of honey, grey cobbles gleaming wet through trodden snow. The pretty red wooden stalls selling toys, ornaments, gifts and scarves were webbed with tinsel and coloured lights, the air heavy with the toffee-smell of street food.
Hannah was silent, though Josie’s chatter and Maria’s exclamations filled the air as she gazed around, her hair tumbling between hat and scarf, her gorgeous eyes wistful and apprehensive.
‘You OK?’ he murmured.
‘It’s odd to be back,’ she returned quietly. Odd, not good, he noticed. They were now yards from the shop she’d worked so hard to make a success and had such plans for, the shop that was inextricably bound up in her last relationship. He may have made love to her three times last night but, in comparison, he’d so far made it only to the fringes of her life.
He linked their gloved hands and she managed a smile but she clutched her stomach too. ‘I’m dreading seeing Hannah Anna Butik erased by some tawdry club with black curtains and a sinister sign above the door,’ she confessed.
He squeezed her fingers. His mum had taken the girls to look at a stall of wooden carvings painted green and red. ‘You don’t have to see it. We could head straight for Albin’s office in Frihamnen. Or I’ll pop round the corner and check it out and tell you.’
For a moment she looked tempted. Then she lifted her chin. ‘That feels too much like letting Albin win. It’ll be like the dentist – I’ll feel better once it’s over.’
Carina came back from the stall and agreed to take the children to the tea shop in Västerlånggatan, swinging Maria up into her arms. Nico dropped kisses on the girls’ heads and, after much waving goodbye, watched the little party depart, Josie trying to skate on the slushy snow.
Then, gripping Hannah’s hand, aware of her taking a deep breath, strode beside her out of the square and into Köpmangatan, more muted than Stortorget both in colour and noise level. As their feet carried them over the cobbles and around the corner onto less trampled snow, her stride faltered.
Nico halted.
The facade of Hannah Anna Butik didn’t look to have changed.
Fairy lights edged a window display of red hats and white scarves punctuated by the dull sheen of leather goods. As they watched, a woman emerged from the shop with a green paper carrier bearing the legend Hannah Anna Butik in gold.
Hannah dropped his hand, gasping, ‘What the hell?’
‘I don’t know. Let’s find out what’s going on.’ Nico had a nasty feeling Hannah wasn’t going to like it.
With a convulsive movement she marched up and blew through the front door like a storm. Nico followed a few casual paces behind, thinking it might prove useful not to make it obvious to whoever Hannah was about to confront that she had back-up. He closed the door, which was still trembling from the force of her entrance. A sweeping glance told him a man and a woman were standing behind the counter gaping at Hannah. He turned a browsing shopper’s stare on a stand of leather belts.
Hannah’s voice, though harsh, shook. ‘I didn’t expect to find you two here. Or that Hannah Anna Butik is still Hannah Anna