glasses and then put them back on; a nervous gesture Iâd seen him perform thousands of times before.
âI saw what they tried to do to you. Stuff a pine cone up there... how sick can people be?â
âItâs all right. It didnât start bleeding, at any rate. Did you see the mink over there?â
He watched it without much interest as it swam some way beyond the quay, with its head above the surface like a little periscope, much more graceful in the water than you could have imagined.
âSo what have we actually done to them, Gerard and those guys?â
âI happened to see when they set fire to a cat last winter. And now theyâve got it into their heads that I snitched on them.â
âWell, did you?â
âNah.â
âAnd what has it got to do with me?â
âNot a thing. Other than the fact you happen to be my brother.â The waves struck against the breakers in front of the outer dock. If I turned to face south I could see the old lighthouse, which whisked its light over the harbour at night. Other than the mink and the gulls, there was not another living soul to be seen. The music from the hut had stopped. Oddly, there was no wind.
âThatâs not your fault, Nella. If they didnât have a reason they would have made one up. If youâre sick enough to set fire to a cat, you can come up with anything. Do you think Dad would have been able to do something if heâd been here?â
My little brother has a load of over-inflated hopes concerning our father. Maybe because he doesnât know him as well as I do. It would soon be a year since the last time weâd seen him. And when youâre twelve, going on thirteen in December, thatâs long enough to start to forget certain things and remember others that do not completely correspond to reality.
âIâm sorry to disappoint you, but no.â
âWell, Iâm sure he could do something. When heâs back home Iâll tell him everything, Iâll tell him their names and where they live, and I promise you, heâll sort them out. Heâll bash them so hard they wonât dare to breathe a word again.â
He sort of nodded to himself, as if he were watching everything on an internal cinema screen, and I wondered how sick the situation had seemed in my brotherâs eyes as I lay there in the woods on my front with my knickers pulled down, a pine cone between my buttocks, eating grass out of his hands.
âActually, thatâs not a wild mink,â I said in order to change the subject. âIts fur is too nice. Itâs probably escaped from one of the mink farms.â
âI didnât know they could swim.â
âDad told me once. Remember, he worked on a mink farm when you were little. Anyway, sometimes they manage to escape from their cages, and then they usually head for the sea to hunt for fish.â
I kept my gaze fixed on the surface of the water, but the mink was gone. It had probably swum back to the dock underwater.
âAre you going to pay a thousand kronor?â
âI donât have any choice.â
âBut how are you going to get hold of that much money?â
âItâll work out somehow... â
My brother picked up a stone and chucked it out into the water. The eczema between his fingers was about to split open. The cream had run out. I had forgotten to buy another tube. I mustnât forget the next time I was in town.
âWhat do you want to do?â I asked. âHead home or stay here a while?â
âHome to what?â
âNo, of course. Youâre right... â
Maybe, I thought, it had been a mistake to offer money to Gerard so he would leave us alone. How was I going to get hold of a thousand kronor within a week? And what made me believe that he would be satisfied with that much?
I looked over towards the houses that were huddled behind fences and dense hedges above the harbour. I