Mankell Henning - When the Snow Fell

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Joel is growing up. He is getting interested in girls. Just look at his New Year’s resolutions: 1 — to see a naked lady, 2 — to toughen himself up so that he can live to be a hundred, and 3 — to see the sea.
They all look pretty impossible for a motherless boy in Northern Sweden. Especially as his sailor dad is keen to drown his sadness in drink, and all the local matrons are narrowly watching the pair of them. And then he saves old Simon from a frozen death in the woods, and Joel becomes a local hero.

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Joel shook his head.

“That what that old lady said was true. That you don’t have a brother called Digby. You don’t have a brother at all, in fact.”

She didn’t seem angry when she said that. She was smiling. A friendly smile. Joel realized that he had no choice but to tell her the truth.

“I wanted to sell you some Christmas magazines,” he mumbled. “So I was forced to invent Digby.”

Joel told her about Otto. About having to pay him three kronor. She burst out laughing. But she still didn’t seem angry.

“Everybody’s talking about Joel Gustafson,” she said when it became obvious that Joel wasn’t going to say any more about the magazines.

“Nothing they say is true,” said Joel.

“Oh, the odd grain of truth comes out,” she said. “But I agree that the old ladies come out with lots of things they haven’t a clue about.”

“This dump is full of gossips,” said Joel. “You can’t even piss in the snow without everybody getting to hear about it.”

She laughed again.

“Just now, everybody’s talking about you,” she said. “Everybody thinks it was terrific of you to save the life of that old man.”

“Simon Windstorm,” said Joel. “That’s his name.”

“Windstorm?”

“Yes, Windstorm.”

“I wish I’d been called that,” she said. “It sounds better than Mattsson.”

“It sounds better than Gustafson as well.”

“People talk,” she said again. “Today somebody told me you didn’t have a brother. But they also said that you don’t have a mother.”

I’m off, Joel thought. She knows everything. She’ll soon come out with the veils business. She can read thoughts. She doesn’t just listen to gossipy old women.

“It’s none of my business, of course,” she said. “But obviously, I wonder who it is that does darn your wooly socks.”

“I do it myself,” said Joel. “I do all the shopping and the cooking. I’m my own mum. But that means I don’t have to put up with somebody nagging at me all the time. If I want there to be some nagging, I do it myself.”

She suddenly looked serious.

“I’m only asking because I’m curious,” she said. “That’s one of my big faults. I’m much too curious.”

“So am I,” said Joel. “But I don’t think it’s a fault.”

She stubbed out her cigarette. Joel looked at her red lips. He could feel his passions stirring. What if those lips could teach him how to kiss? That would be a bit different from the Greyhound doing it.

“I’ve made tea,” she said, rising to her feet. “Would you like some?”

“Yes, please,” said Joel.

He hated tea. All it did was make him want to pee. But this was Sonja Mattsson offering him tea. So he couldn’t possibly say no.

She came back with two cups and a teapot. Joel tasted it. It tasted awful, but he drank it even so.

“Tell me what happened,” she said. “Out there in the snow.”

Joel told her the facts. How he had found Simon and dragged him back to the house. As she seemed to be able to check absolutely everything, he didn’t dare to exaggerate. Although he would have liked to do, of course.

“You must be strong,” she said. “And persistent.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Joel. “You just do the best you can.”

She put down her cup and lit another cigarette.

“Do you smoke?” she asked.

Joel was on the point of saying he did, but managed to stop himself in time. If he lit a cigarette he would start coughing immediately.

He shook his head. He didn’t want a cigarette.

“Now you can ask me,” she said. “Only two questions. No more.”

Joel thought. Two questions were not many. He would have to be careful. What did he want to know most?

“Why have you come here?” he asked.

That was what he wanted to know more than anything else. How could somebody who lived in Stockholm choose of their own free will to move to a dump like this?

“I needed to get away,” she said. “Things got a bit too much for me.”

Joel noticed that she had changed. Her face was much more serious now.

He wondered if he’d asked something inappropriate.

“There were too many men,” she went on. “And some of them wouldn’t leave me alone. That’s why I came here. I don’t know how long I’ll stay. We’ll have to see. How I get on. How I feel. What happens. And if I can stand the long winter.”

Joel tried to work out the significance of what she’d said. Too many men? What did she mean by that? And that they wouldn’t leave her alone?

There was no doubt about what the next question would have to be. Joel didn’t need to hesitate. He was curious and he couldn’t deny that he was jealous.

“Who were you with at the cinema the other night?”

She sat there with her teacup halfway to her mouth.

“How do you know I was at the cinema?”

“I was there,” said Joel. “But the film wasn’t very good.”

“It was adults only,” she said. “And you’re not fifteen yet.”

“I get in through a secret door,” said Joel.

She put her cup down.

“Now you’re telling me lies,” she said.

She seemed angry for the first time.

“It’s true,” said Joel.

“How did the film end?” she asked abruptly.

“I don’t know.”

“There you are! You’re lying!’

“I had to leave just before the end. If I hadn’t, Engman would notice that I’d sneaked in. If I’d still been there when the lights went up.”

“Who’s Engman?”

“The caretaker who runs the place.”

“I still don’t believe you. You weren’t there.”

“I can tell you what happened when there were only five minutes left.”

The words came pouring out of his mouth. He talked and talked until she believed him. He retold the story of the film back to front. He told her about the door in the basement. The only thing he didn’t mention was the Greyhound.

She had started smiling again. She believed him.

“OK, we were both at the cinema,” she said. “And you want to know who I was with?”

“Who were you sitting next to, holding hands?”

Joel heard to his surprise that he sounded angry. And she had noticed.

“That will have to be my secret,” she said. “I let him hold my hand, but that’s all.”

“You didn’t put any veils on for him?”

Joel almost bit his tongue off. But it was too late. He couldn’t pull the words back into his mouth. They weren’t on strings. Joel had often thought how useful it would be, when he’d said something he regretted, if he could haul the words back in.

She looked at him in astonishment.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked.

“Nothing,” said Joel, quickly.

He could see that he’d set her thinking.

“You gave Otto three kronor so that you could sell me a magazine,” she said slowly. “And I think you left that mitten behind on purpose. You sounded almost angry when you told me that you’d seen me at the cinema with somebody who was holding my hand. And you even invented a brother who doesn’t exist. Why?”

Joel could feel himself blushing. He stared down at the floor.

“I don’t bite,” she said. “I neither sting nor scratch. Unless I want to. And I don’t want to just now. Come on, what did you say?”

Her voice sounded gentle now. Joel almost dared to look at her.

“I don’t gossip,” she said. “It will stay within these four walls. Just between you and me. Cross my heart.”

Joel looked up at her.

“Cross my heart,” she said again. “Cross my heart.”

Joel didn’t dare. But he said it even so. He thought he would drop down dead on the spot.

“I thought you’d be wearing transparent veils when you opened the door. Nothing else.”

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