The Andalucian Friend Read Online Free PDF Page A

environmental Japanese cars. There was nothing special about it, it was just new. It smelled new and was comfortable to sit in.
    “We’re heading for Vasastan,” he said.
    She met his gaze in the rearview mirror. His eyes were blue, clear and intense.
    “You’re cousins, aren’t you? On which side?”
    “All possible sides.”
    She laughed. “Really? How do you mean?”
    “All possible sides.”
    He sounded as if that were his final word on the subject.
    “My name’s Aron. …”
    “Hello, Aron,” she said.
    They sat in silence the rest of the way into the city.
    Tables, chairs, and a swing door leading to a kitchen. The lighting was too bright, there were landscape prints on the walls, and there were checkered paper napkins. A standard lunch restaurant, nothing more.
    She found herself smiling when Hector waved to her from a table toward the rear of the room, and she tried to erase the smile as she made her way through the tables toward him.
    He stood up and pulled out a chair for her.
    “I would have picked you up myself if it wasn’t for my leg.”
    Sophie sat down. “It was fine, Aron was good company, if a little quiet. …”
    He smiled.
    “You came,” he said.
    He slid a laminated menu toward her.
    “We never said good-bye,” Hector went on.
    “No, we didn’t.”
    His tone of voice changed. “I come here for the shellfish. The best in the city, but hardly anyone knows about it.”
    “Then that’s what I’ll have.”
    She didn’t touch the menu, kept her hands in her lap. He made an almost invisible nod to someone standing behind the bar.
    Meeting Hector outside the hospital was different. She had a giddy sense that she was about to eat lunch with someone she really didn’t know at all. But he noticed her uncertainty and started talking, telling little anecdotes about what it was like to have your leg in a cast in Stockholm, about the process of slicing up your favorite trousers, and how much he missed the hospital food and instant mash. He was good at seeing the funny side of everyday life, turning a strained situation into something light and entertaining.
    She listened to him with half an ear. She liked the way he looked, and her gaze kept getting caught by his alert eyes that seemed to be two different colors. The right one was dark blue, the left dark brown. In a certain light the color of his eyes seemed sharper, as if he became a different person for a while.
    “So is it empty without me at the hospital?” he asked.
    Sophie laughed and shook her head.
    “No, it’s the same as usual.”
    A waitress brought over two glasses of wine.
    “Spanish white. Not our finest achievement … but perfectly palatable.”
    He raised his glass in a relaxed toast. She left the wine where it was, picking up the water glass instead and taking a sip, then she did the Swedish thing of tilting her glass slightly and seeking eye-contact with him. He didn’t notice, had already looked away. She felt foolish.
    Hector leaned back, inspecting her calmly and confidently, then opened his mouth to say something. A fleeting thought seemed to stop him. He was left searching for words.
    “What?” she wondered with a little laugh.
    He shifted on his chair. “I don’t know … I don’t recognize you. … You’re different.”
    “In what way?”
    He looked at her.
    “I don’t know, just different. Maybe because you’re not in your nurse’s uniform?”
    “Would you prefer that?”
    Her words seemed to embarrass him, which amused her.
    “But you do recognize me? You know who I am?”
    “I’m starting to wonder,” he said
    “About what?”
    “Who you are. …”
    “You know who I am.”
    He shook his head.
    “Well, I know a bit … but not everything.”
    “Why would you want to know everything?”
    He stopped himself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be intrusive.”
    “You’re not intrusive.”
    “I think I probably am. …”
    “How do you mean?”
    Hector shrugged. “Sometimes I’m in