Death By Water Read Online Free PDF Page B

The pitiful little thing looks up at him with its one eye and gives a complaining meow, like maybe it’s asking for something. He wants to do something or other with it. Not sure what. Lift it up and feel the fur against his cheek. Feel with his finger inside the empty space below the eyelid. Squeeze this kitten so hard it stops its whining.
    He contents himself with kicking at it, so that it won’t follow him out through the gate.
     
    Just past the kiosk, he stops and sweeps the beach with his gaze. The parasols are made of straw and make him think of the Hottentot Hoa who bangs away on his drums at night and saves the village from enemy attack. He sidles over to the big tree. She must be somewhere or other on this beach, Ylva, because he’s already checked out the other beach, about a hundred metres further away.
    Then he sees her. On her way up from the sea in the bikini with the dark red hearts. She takes hold of her hair, twists it round a few times then tosses it like a tail on to her back. The little fair-haired one is waddling along behind her, like a tubby pet. Jo grins and keeps his eyes on Ylva. She walks up to a parasol on the second row down, picks up a towel, dries her face and her thighs, hangs it out, lies down in the sun.
    Go over there now , Jo can hear Jacket saying. Or wait till she goes for another swim. Follow her into the water and get talking to her . Not difficult to find something to talk about with the breakers washing over them and just about tipping her over.
    He chooses the first option, can’t be bothered to wait. Makes his way slowly towards the end of the beach where she is. Recognises the grown-ups she was sitting with in the dining room. The man, must be her father, has grey hair. And the mother is completely unlike Ylva, small and with a bigger belly bulge than Mother.
    Arne sits two parasols away from them.
    Jo freezes. Naturally, Mother is there too. And the couple they were dancing and necking with that first night. Mother is wearing her pink bikini and is lying flat on the sunbed with a straw hat over her face. In the sand next to her are two big green bottles of beer. Arne has his back turned and is talking to the other grown-ups. Hasn’t spotted him yet. Jo turns and runs away, reaches the shelter of a tree. Without stopping he carries on up the hill, past the apartments and down on to the other beach.
    Fewer people there. In the middle of a crowd of boys he sees Daniel, heads towards him.
    – Ready for football?
    – Where?
    – In the shade, of course. If you don’t want your legs to burn up under you.
    Daniel always seems to have a crowd of friends around him. He’s cool, Jo has to admit it. And good looking. Last night he was sitting by the edge of the swimming pool talking to some girls who looked to be quite a bit older than him.
    Others come along and join them as they measure out the pitch and put down towels for goalposts. There are seven of them. The Swedes they hammered at volleyball the other day, and some others whom Daniel speaks to in English.
    – Just going to see if Daddy’ll play, then we’ll be four a side.
    It makes Jo smirk to hear Daniel still calling his father Daddy , but he keeps the smirk to himself. Daniel sprints across to one of the parasols by the stone staircase. Jo sees the father lay down his newspaper and get up, ambling through the sand. When he arrives, he shakes hands with them all.
    – Have to know whom I’m playing with, he says with a broad smile. He’s very tall and looks strong, and with his longish hair he reminds Jo of Obi-Wan in Star Wars .
    One of the Swedes is on their team. His name is Pontus. Short and thin and with very quick feet. Typical winger. Jo prefers playing in the middle. He has a good shot, and the trainer is always praising him for his ability to read the game. It’s fine by him that Daniel wants to play up front. His father plays at the back and calls himself a roaming ’keeper.
    Daniel of course is good.