The Swedish Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

that
Gary must make his
way in the world
he knew she would miss him badly. Dad’s death last year had given them all a jolt. Gary’s smile faded as he remembered. He had dropped out of university for a year, staying at home to help Moira over the worst of the shock, doing all the things that needed to be done.
    His glance fell on the dashboard of the new Mini Cooper and his face lit up once more. It had been a welcome surprise to find in his father’s paperwork that he and his mother had been left very comfortably off. Dad had never thrown his money about and he’d had this terrific work ethic, encouraging his son to earn money, never giving him handouts, so that Gary had not realised quite the extent of the family’s wealth. Ah well, he thought, swinging the car around a bend that curved into a long stretch between bracken-clad hills, everything seemed to be working out now. When the chance to transfer from Birmingham to Glasgow University had arrived, Gary had grabbed it at once. He didn’t know much about Scotland but it was an opportunity to begin afresh, away from the memories that still haunted him. Yes, Mum would miss him, but the description of the flat in Merryfield Avenue had cheered her up enough to tell all her friends and neighbours about it. And, although Gary hadn’t actually made any promises, he thought that Moira might come up and visit once he was settled in.
    The sun came out from behind a cloud as the car emerged from the shadow of the hills and Gary reached for his sunglasses. He had given a nod to the Scottish Saltire as the Mini Cooper had crossed the border from England into Scotland: it was the first time he had ever driven up as far north as this, his previous trips to Glasgow having been made by plane. Mr Magnusson had been really helpful on the last visit when he had confirmed his tenancy of the flat. It had been almost too simple, really; Gary’s late father had known the Swede through business, and a mutual acquaintance had mentioned that the young man was looking for a place to rent in Glasgow. He’d been asked all sorts of questions, of course – and had lied about his smoking habit – but the Swede seemed to have taken a shine to Brian Calderwood’s son. It wouldn’t be long now, he thought, glancing at the road signs; the city would soon be in sight and before the sun set over the horizon he would be meeting his flatmates, including the Swedish girl who was to be his landlady.
     
    Eva closed the door behind her and dropped the carrier bags onto the floor. She had thought it might be fun to rummage around in the second-hand shops, purchasing stuff that made her look like every other Glasgow student, but her wanderings had taken her further than she had planned after one shop assistant had given her the addresses of several boutiques specialising in designer clothes. The excitement she had anticipated about merging into the Glasgow scene had all but evaporated once she had taken the time and trouble to select garments that she knew would look good on her. It was just like being back in Stockholm, being waited upon by the staff at Nitty Gritty, choosing clothes to wear that would meet with her father’s approval. Henrik always liked his girl to give him a fashion parade, twirling in front of him to show off any new outfits.
    Eva had thought… well, what had she thought? That an old mended cardigan would give her the freedom to be herself for a change? Sighing, she picked up the bags again and turned into the room at the back of the flat that she had chosen for her own. It was cooler in here after the sultry heat of the city streets and she took several deep breaths, smelling the woody scent from last night’s candle. The window was open wide and the cream-coloured muslin curtains moved sideways as a draught of fresh air entered the room. Outside, a pigeon cooed its velvety note, a sound that was at once calming to the girl. She stood motionless by the window, looking out at the