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writing, with a buzzing headache that he put down to a nagging conscience. After twenty minutes he had a passable routine that might even be amusing if he milked it for all it was worth. He glanced up at Supermarket Lady but received no guidance. Possibly he was walking in her footsteps, sitting in her basket.
    It was half past four. Four and a half hours until he was due on stage, and there were already butterflies in his stomach.
    He made a cup of coffee, smoked a cigarette and went in to see Magnus, spent half an hour talking about Pokémon, helped Magnus to sort the cards and interpret what they said.
    ‘Dad,’ Magnus asked, ‘what exactly is your job?’
    ‘You already know that. You were there at Norra Brunn once. I tell stories and people laugh and…Then I get paid for it.’
    ‘Why do they laugh?’
    David looked into Magnus’ serious eight-year-old’s eyes and burst into laughter himself. He stroked Magnus’ head and answered, ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know. Now I’m going to have some coffee.’
    ‘Oh, you’re always drinking coffee.’
    David got up from the floor where the cards lay spread out. When he reached the door, he turned around to look at his son, whose lips moved as he read one of his cards.
    ‘I think,’ David said, ‘that people laugh because they want to laugh. They have paid to come and laugh, and so they laugh.’
    Magnus shook his head. ‘I don’t get it.’
    ‘No,’ David said, ‘I don’t either.’
    Eva came back from work at half past five and David greeted her in the hall.
    ‘Hi sweetheart,’ she said. ‘What’s up?’
    ‘Death, death, death,’ David replied, holding his hands over his stomach. He kissed her. Her upper lip was salt with sweat. ‘And you?’
    ‘Fine. A little bit of a headache. Otherwise I’m fine. Have you been able to write?’
    ‘No, it…’ David gestured vaguely at the desk. ‘Yes, but it isn’t that good.’
    Eva nodded. ‘No, I know. Will I get to hear it later?’
    ‘If you like.’
    Eva left to find Magnus, and David went to the bathroom, let some of the nervousness drain out of him. He remained on the toilet seat for a while, studying the pattern of white fishes on the shower curtain. He wanted to read his script to Eva; in fact, he needed to read it to her. It was funny, but he was ashamed of it and was afraid that Eva would say something about…the ideas behind it. Of which there were none. He flushed, then rinsed his face with cold water.
    I’m an entertainer. Plain and simple.
    Yes. Of course.
     
    He made a light dinner—a mushroom omelette—while Magnus and Eva laid out the Monopoly board in the living room. David’s underarms ran with sweat as he stood at the stove sautéing the mushrooms.
    This weather. It isn’t natural.
    An image suddenly loomed in his mind: the greenhouse effect. Yes. The Earth as a gigantic greenhouse. With us planted here millions of years ago by aliens. Soon they’ll be back for the harvest.
    He scooped the omelette onto plates and called out that dinner was served. Good image, but was it funny? No. But if you added someone fairly well known, like…a newspaper columnist, say—Staffan Heimersson—and said he was the leader of the aliens in disguise. So therefore Staffan Heimersson’s solely responsible for the greenhouse effect…
    ‘What are you thinking about?’
    ‘Oh, nothing. That it’s Staffan Heimersson’s fault it’s so warm.’
    ‘OK…’
    Eva waited. David shrugged. ‘No, that was it. Basically.’
    ‘Mum?’ Magnus was done picking the tomato slices out of his salad. ‘Robin said that if the Earth gets warmer the dinosaurs will come back, is that true?’
     
    His headache got worse during the game of Monopoly, and everyone became unnecessarily grumpy when they lost money. After half an hour they took a break for Bolibompa , the children’s program, and Eva went to the kitchen and made some espresso. David sat in the sofa and yawned. As always when he was nervous