Death By Water Read Online Free PDF Page A

built man, and at the end of the table a boy about Nini’s age. Family. Having breakfast together. Got an extra place out on that blistering hot terrace. Someone could go over to that table and start smashing at it with a sledgehammer.
    – The others’ll be here any moment, Jo manages to blurt out. – I need to find places for all of us.
    – Wanna play beach footie afterwards?
    Daniel doesn’t give up, stands there waiting for him to say something. It mustn’t happen now, he hears the thought race through him. Not right in front of Daniel and his family and a pack of staring faces. He spots a vacant table and makes his way over to it. It hasn’t been cleared after the last guests. Plates with bits of egg, bacon fat, and grape pips in a serviette. Coffee dregs in the cups. Truls arrives with Nini trailing behind. Jo orders him to clear the table. Goes and fetches a huge bowl of cornflakes for Nini.
    – I want Honni-Korn, she protests.
    – You’ll take what you’re given, he growls, and for once she realises there’s no point in complaining any more. – Look here, four spoonfuls of sugar. That’ll taste good.
    Truls laughs loudly. He’s managed to fix himself up with fried potatoes, bacon and a whole lot of ketchup.
    – This place is cool, he says happily.
    Jo chews down a slice of bread and jam. He keeps an eye on the table where Daniel’s family are sitting. The mother gets up and heads towards the exit. She’s slim, and the black dress clings to her. Reminds Jo of a film star whose name he can’t recall. The father has finished too, but sits there listening to something Daniel is talking about. He has curls on the back of his neck and looks like he does a lot of training with weights.
    The girl he’s been waiting for comes in, accompanied by the fat, fair-haired one. They hang their bathing towels up by a table just inside the open sliding doors, not far from Daniel’s. They pass by less than two metres away on their way to the buffet. Jo doesn’t look at her, but she looks at him, he’s certain of it. Jacket advised him not to show too much interest. And then suddenly strike. Jo is massively relieved he’s alone there with Truls and Nini. Maybe the girl hasn’t seen him with Mother and Arne. Maybe she doesn’t have to know about them at all.
    Less than three minutes later, she’s heading back, carrying a tray. She’s just been swimming; her bikini makes a wet patch on her bottom. It’s the one with the hearts on, Jo can see that through the thin yellow skirt she’s wearing, the one that was hanging to dry on the balcony the day before. Her name is Ylva, Ylva Richter. If Jacket is to be believed. Why shouldn’t he believe Jacket? He’s funny and he’s famous. And for some reason or other, interested in what interests Jo. Jo looks round to see if Jacket is there. But it strikes him that Jacket isn’t the type to take an early breakfast. More the type to sit up all night smoking and reading over and over again poems about drowned Phoenicians.
    Before Jo has finished his first slice of bread, Ylva stands up. Between the yellow skirt and an even shorter top, her stomach is visible. She has a ring in her navel. Jo has never seen that before. He can’t stop himself from staring at it. And beneath the top her breasts jig up and down when she walks. He forces himself to look away. Girls don’t like it if you slobber over them, Jacket might have said.
    As she disappears around the corner, Jo gets up. – Stay here with Nini.
    – Where are you going?
    – Toilet. You don’t go anywhere, got that?
    Truls chews away on a stub of sausage and doesn’t look to be in any hurry at all.
    – Back in a few minutes, Jo calls over his shoulder.
     
    He leans forward and peers at the neighbouring balcony. The door is closed and the curtain drawn. But she’s in there, he doesn’t doubt it for a moment. All quiet in the bedroom. Can’t even hear Arne snoring. Maybe his heart’s stopped; maybe he’s lying