Harbour Read Online Free

’
    Anders and Cecilia laughed. The car disappeared behind the point, leaving a thin cloud of whirling snow behind it.
    â€˜People from Stockholm, then. I expect they’re on their way to their summer cottage to…look at the ice, or something.’
    Maja seemed satisfied with this response, and turned to set off again. Then she thought of something and turned back.
    â€˜Why aren’t we people from Stockholm, then? We live in Stockholm, after all.’
    Cecilia said, ‘You and I are from Stockholm, but Daddy isn’t, not really, because his daddy wasn’t from Stockholm.’
    â€˜My grandad?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜What was he, then?’
    Cecilia made a vague movement with her lips and looked at Anders, who said, ‘An old fisherman.’
    Maja nodded and set off towards the lighthouse, which had now become an extended blot against the bright sky.
    Simon was standing on the veranda, tracking their progress through his telescope. He saw them stop and talk, saw them set off again with Maja in the lead. He smiled to himself. That was just typical of Maja. Trying so hard, working, wearing herself out. The child had a dynamo inside her, a little motor spinning away, constantly charging itself. The energy had to go somewhere.
    In everything but blood he was her great-grandfather, just as he was grandfather to Anders. He had known them both before their eyes were able to focus on his face. He was an outsider, absorbed into this family that was not his own.
    While he was filling the coffee machine he glanced up, from habit, at Anna-Greta’s house. He knew she had gone over to mainland to do some shopping and wouldn’t be back until the afternoon but he looked anyway, and caught himself missing her already.
    More than forty years together, and he still longed to see her. That was a good thing. Perhaps it had something to do with living apart. At first he had been hurt when Anna-Greta said yes, she loved him, but no, she had no intention of moving in with him. He could carry on renting his house from her as before, and if the situation didn’t suit him it was unfortunate, but so be it.
    He had gone along with it, hoping that things would change in time. They did, but not in the way he had thought. Instead he was the one who changed his point of view and after about ten years he’d come to the conclusion that everything worked extremely well. The rent he paid was token. It hadn’t gone up by a single krona since he first moved into the house in 1955. One thousand kronor per year. They would spend the money on a trip on the ferry to Finland, eating and drinking nothing but the best. It was a small ritual.
    They weren’t married—Anna-Greta felt that her marriage to Erik had been one too many—but to all intents and purposes, Simon was her husband and the children’s grandfather and great-grandfather.
    He went out on to the glassed-in veranda and picked up the telescope. They were still ploughing on out there, they had almost reached the lighthouse now. They had stopped, and he couldn’t make out what they were doing. He was trying to adjust the focus so that he could see what they were up to, when the outside door opened.
    â€˜Hello there!’
    Simon smiled. It had taken him a few years to get used to the fact that those who lived here all year round simply came stomping into each other’s houses without knocking. In the beginning he would knock on people’s doors and be rewarded with a long wait. When the door finally opened, the look on the resident’s face clearly said, Why are you standing out here putting on airs and graces? Come inside.
    Boots were removed, there was the sound of throat-clearing in the porch, and Elof Lundberg walked in, wearing his cap as usual, and nodded to Simon.
    â€˜Good morning to you, sir.’
    â€˜And good morning to you.’
    Elof licked his lips, which were dry from the cold, and looked around the