the crowd, looking for Hanna and Max. The kids loved the maypole dancing – although Linus was becoming more reluctant with age – but even he couldn’t resist the ‘Små Grodorna’ song, where everyone pretended to be frogs. Frogs. As a non-Swede, it was the one custom that baffled her and she always made her excuses to duck out, looking on with bemusement as Kris, Marc and Tove went crazy for it.
Her frown puckered as she scanned and looked and searched. Where were they? There were dozens of children here, but Tilde and Elise were still so small, she would expect to see them on their parents’ shoulders in a crowd of this size. They should be easy to spot.
‘Oh God, they’re off!’ Tove laughed, beginning to film on her phone as Marc dragged Kris into the dancers’ circle and they began galloping one way, then the other. ‘I’m going to blackmail them with this later. I reckon I can probably get Marc to give me that denim jacket of his in return for not showing this to his boss.’
‘Ha.’
Tove glanced down at her, hearing her distracted tone. ‘Who are you looking for?’
‘The Mogerts. I thought they’d be here.’
‘Oh, they will be. They’re always here. That little girl, the feisty one –’
‘Elise.’
‘Yeah, Elise. She stung me for double-scoop ice creams last time.’
Bell chuckled. ‘Don’t mess with Elise. She’s fierce.’
Tove threw her head back and laughed at a memory. ‘Do you remember last year when we saw them on the boat just as I did my streak down the jetty?’ She gave a cackle of laughter.
‘Oh, I remember all right,’ Bell groaned, but grinning too. Poor Max had almost fallen overboard, and he still looked terrified anytime he and Tove met. Her smile faded again. ‘Hmm, it’s odd, I just can’t see them. Maybe we missed them.’ But a kernel of worry was worming into the pit of her stomach. It was highly unusual that they weren’t here. ‘I’m just going to look over there. I’ll be right back.’
She pushed slowly through the crowd, looking out for the easy clues – Max’s heavy-rimmed ‘nerd’ glasses, Hanna’s bright hair, Elise’s shouts. There were dozens of other children running about; it was a child’s paradise, with apple bobbing, horseshoe tossing, potato-and-spoon races, a tug of war . . .
‘Nope. They’re not here,’ she said as she met up with Tove again several minutes later. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘Well, don’t let it ruin your day,’ Tove mumbled, still filming the boys. ‘You’ve got the weekend off, remember? Stop worrying about work for once. They’ve probably had a better offer to go . . . potato printing, or something.’
‘You’re right. That’s highly likely,’ Bell quipped, swigging her beer.
Tove brought her phone down from her face and squinted at something. Then she put it back up again. ‘Babe, I think your luck might be in.’
‘Huh?’
‘No, don’t look at me – don’t look over there –’
‘Where the hell can I look, then?’ Bell chuckled. ‘And what am I not supposed to be looking at?’
‘Not what. Who. Now act natural. I’ve just watched some guy watch you go all the way round the crowd just now, and now he’s looking right over again . . .’ She applied the zoom. ‘Oh my God, and he’s shit-hot!’
‘Who? Where? Lemme see him,’ Bell laughed, scanning the crowd opposite out of curiosity rather than any real interest. But for all the faces over there, none of them appeared to be looking in her direction.
‘He’s over – oh. Oh no, wait . . . scratch that.’ Tove gave a disappointed sigh. ‘Dude’s married. Kids too, it looks like.’
‘What? How’d you know?’
Tove pointed. ‘See him? Guy in the cap?’
Bell looked over. The only man in a cap she could see had his face turned away as he listened to something a very sleek, very sharp-looking brunette was saying in his ear. ‘Oh God,’ she said with a groan, looking away immediately. ‘Him? Ugh!’
‘What do you mean, ugh? He is very definitely not ugh. Who is he?’
‘The guy I told you about last night? The one who made a right bloody fuss about letting me use the trike, until I almost had to beg him for it?’
Tove pulled a face. ‘Oh. Jerk.’
‘Yeah.’
She carried on staring at him. ‘Ugh. Hot but married, and an asshole. Shame.’
‘I thought your man-radar was better than that, to be honest.’
Tove made a disappointed tut. ‘I know. I just got distracted by his jaw. That’s a good jaw.’