Scene 10

Of the luxurious evening meal he had promised himself before his spring into the pond, of course, there was nothing. When he finally landed in Bullerö again, it was late. Again, a storm had broken over the island and all the colours appeared exaggerated, completely clear.

The landlady, a sunburnt, silver-haired 60-ish woman, received him at a large terrace and reprimanded him for his late arrival, pointing out the repercussions. Her hands looked as though a glacier had just pulled back from them, probably they rummaged day after day through beetroot and blackberry hedges. The kitchen had long closed for the day, she declared, after all, one was finally entitled to some rest. There were timings and rules, which were necessary, bitterly so, in a time such as this. Maille nodded in resignation and with a blink of his tired eyes, took all responsibility – for his late-coming, her anger, the dry summer, the high taxes in Sweden, and the imminent alternation of the poles. At once, it seemed as though the lady was in a better frame of mind.

With a sigh she vanished into the kitchen, only to emerge at the terrace a little later with a salver. She had found in the refrigerator a piece of «Gravad Lax» and had also warmed up some Potato gratin with herring for the exhausted agent. With it was some bread, a can of light beer and, as dessert, a no longer entirely fresh «Kanelbullar» – a Swedish style cinnamon roll. The woman, relieved that her release was finally in sight, laid the platter on the table, handed Maille his room key and left him alone on the terrace once more.

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