named Lars are often called Lasse by friends. He was never sure whether being called “Lassie” made him a girl or a dog but encouraged people back to saying Lars.’ He paused to sip wine. ‘He’s fine. He’s living in Nässjö, in the Småland region in the south of Sweden, close to Lake Vättern. My brother Mattias lives in nearby Huskvarna with his girlfriend. Mum lives on the edges of Älgäng, a smaller town. Dad only coaches hockey at community level now – a retirement job. Mattias is an assistant curator at Husqvarna Museum. The Husqvarna factory has a varied history, producing anything from weapons to sewing machines, motorcycles and lawn mowers.’
‘Do you see your family much?’ She’d slowed her own eating, wary of laying down her cutlery in case he’d immediately do the same. The bistro was busy with people dining after the shops closed and before hitting a bar. Every time the door clanged at the top of the stairs a breath of cold air reminded them of winter lurking.
He nodded and looked down at his plate. To Hannah it appeared as if he were taking part in a silent argument with the food. He took another small forkful. ‘I see Mum and Dad several times a year but I usually go to them rather than them coming to Stockholm on the train from Jönköping. Mattias a little less. I’ll take Josie home for St Lucia’s Day in December. She loves to make saffron buns and gingerbread – saffransbullar and pepparkakor – with my mum. She yearns to be Lucia and wear candles in her hair.’
Hannah had been in Sweden long enough to know about Lucia processions, the symbolic bringing of light into the short Swedish winter days by St Lucia of Syracuse. ‘Maybe she could start as a handmaiden and work up?’
The lines of his face softened. ‘The choosing of Lucia, the handmaidens and the star boys will have taken place months ago. It’s a lovely time and we treat it like Christmas with our Swedish family. It’s best for Josie to be in England for Christmas so she can see her mum too.’ He moved the conversation back to Hannah. ‘So you like being your own boss?’
‘Definitely.’ Finally finished, she laid down her knife and fork. ‘This is my second venture. First time, I had a T-shirt printing business in a place called Creative Lanes down by the river in Bettsbrough. Do you remember The Embankment?’
He nodded. ‘On the road out of Bettsbrough towards Middledip.’
‘Creative Lanes is a group of off-high-street businesses. It was hard to make the T-shirt business pay – though I have the perfect surname and called it “Goodbodies” – so I took the job of assistant manager of the Lanes too. My then boyfriend, Luke, shared the unit, selling repurposed stuff like clocks made into paperweights and forks made into bracelets. When we split up he was obnoxious, trumping up complaints against me in my assistant manager role until I gave up the tenancy to him and joined IKEA for a complete change. It was so vast compared to Goodbodies. I learned a lot in sales, then customer support and customer relations. I came to Sweden with them. I had to learn Swedish but so many people speaking English helped.’
Nico had eaten most of his meal. He shoved the plate away as if showing it who was boss and Hannah bit back an impulse to compliment him on nearly clearing his plate. She went on, ‘I love Stockholm but I hankered after my own business again.’ She spread her hands. ‘And here I am.’
Now his ordeal by food was over, he pushed his chair back so he could cross his long legs. ‘Happy? I can tell Rob that, at least?’
‘He knows I love Hannah Anna Butik,’ she returned, once again keeping to herself the fact that her relationship with Albin was circling the drain. Rob would get big-brotherly with Albin and he deserved to enjoy the pre-wedding buzz without trying to fight her battles, even if she’d let him.
Nico nodded and signalled to the waiter so they could order coffee. ‘How’s your grandmother, Nan Heather? I remember how everyone in Middledip knew her.’
Hannah smiled at the thought of Nan, her small body and huge smile, twinkling eyes magnified through her glasses beneath a curly cap of silver hair. The way her voice creaked. ‘Because she fostered so many kids. The foster kids called her Aunt Heather originally but when Rob and I