Astrid and Veronika Read Online Free PDF Page A

of forest. Here they could walk side by side again, and Veronika found herself falling into the rhythm of the other woman’s steps.
    ‘Are you all right?’ Astrid asked, turning her head a little, but not stopping.
    ‘Yes, thank you, I am fine,’ Veronika replied, and they continued. There were no mosquitoes yet and they walked slowly. Veronika felt that the old woman might purposely have slowed her gait for her sake. It was cool in the shade under the dark firs, with an occasional shaft of light shooting across the path where the sun found a gap in the wall of trees. As they reached the other side of the small forest they followed the path across the open fields. Suddenly the old woman stopped, her eyes focusing on a cluster of new buildings surrounded by struggling saplings. Veronika followed her gaze, reflecting on the strange choice of land for a housing development — on the muddy flat, fully exposed to the weather and with no view.
    ‘My father used to grow flax here,’ Astrid said, her eyes fixed on the group of brick buildings huddling together, braced against some unidentified threat. ‘But then he sold it. My husband did. He sold the land to the council.’ She stood silent for a moment, then turned abruptly and continued across the fields towards the river, her steps quicker than before. Veronika followed, a little out of breath. They walked along the riverbank for a while, looking for a good place for a rest. The river took a sharp turn and the bank scooped gently, creating a sheltered area, facing south and protected against the wind. Astrid took off her cardigan and spread it on the grass, and Veronika did the same with her fleece jacket. They both sat down and the old woman pulled off her boots, exposing pale bare feet with yellowing toenails. The sun was warm and the two women lay back, saying nothing.
    Veronika stared up at the sky, where five seagulls drifted soundlessly. She thought nothing, allowed herself to doze. She started as Astrid gently tapped her arm, holding out a chocolate bar. Like Veronika, she kept her eyes on the sky. Veronika helped herself to a piece and closed her eyes again. The sun was warm against her face and she let her thoughts wander.
    ‘My name is Astrid,’ the old woman said. ‘Astrid Mattson.’ The words jolted Veronika back and she opened her eyes and turned her head. The old woman was still lying on her back, eyes closed now. Her hands were clasped on her stomach, as if in prayer. Or folded, after death. ‘And you are Veronika.’ She paused. ‘There are no secrets here. Everybody knows everything about everybody. Or they would like to think they do. Secrets have to be well guarded, and the price is high.’ She opened her eyes, squinting in the sun. ‘Solitude. The price is solitude.’
    The seagulls hovered above the water, sinking and rising like puppets on strings.
    Astrid opened her eyes and turned her head, and for the first time Veronika noticed that her eyes were bright blue, cornflower blue. The effect was startling against the papery pale skin and wisps of grey hair.
    Veronika sat up and hugged her shins, chin on her knees. She looked out over the river where the seagulls continued their intricate play.
    ‘You mustn’t misunderstand,’ said Astrid. ‘I am not after your secrets. I have no interest in other people’s lives.’
    She turned her head back and closed her eyes again. Veronika let her hand stroke the dry grass beside her and her fingers closed around a small stone. She lifted her arm and threw the flat pebble towards the water. It arched, disturbing the seagulls, causing them to lift with annoyed shrieks. The stone fell and broke the surface with a little splash.
    ‘I have lived in this village my entire life,’ the old woman said. ‘And most of my life I have been alone.’ Veronika looked at her face, but it gave no indication of her feelings. The eyes remained closed. ‘I am old now. Nearly eighty years old. And with each passing