Chapter 123
There aren’t many people in Mrs Maggie’s restaurant in Duved when Anton walks in.
He looks around the cozy room, where dark wooden tables combine with a wonderful mixture of mismatched chairs and secondhand finds. There are vases of yellow flowers everywhere, and an enormous Easter egg on the bar.
Anton has deliberately arrived early; he isn’t meeting Carl until seven thirty. That’s twenty minutes from now, but he needs to gather his thoughts for a while. The last few days have been hectic—the aftermath of the hostage drama in Storlien has kept everyone busy.
Erik Mogren has been remanded in custody, where he will remain until his trial.
Filip Wretlind is still in the hospital under observation.
Bengt Hedin was finally discovered in his hunting cabin, where he had spent the last few days, keeping a low profile.
They are hoping to gather enough evidence to charge him with bribery and corruption.
Anton has worked nonstop since the “major event,” as the case is designated internally.
A waitress comes over, and he orders a glass of red wine—then changes his mind and goes for a beer instead. He doesn’t want Carl to think he’s showing off.
When the door opens again, he stiffens, but it is only a family collecting pizzas. Anton peers through the window. The restaurant is on Karolinerv?gen, the street where Carl lives just a few hundred yards away. It will take him only a couple of minutes to get here.
But there is no sign of Carl. Anton takes out his phone and begins to surf the net as he sips his beer. For once the press has praised the ?re police for their resourceful effort that saved the hostage from a terrible death.
The online editions of the evening papers are full of positive comments, in spite of all the criticism they published earlier in the week.
“Hi,” says a voice behind him.
Carl has arrived without Anton noticing. He is so handsome that Anton can hardly breathe. He stands up to greet him, but does it so clumsily that he knocks his glass of beer onto the floor. The waitress hurries over with a cloth as Anton grabs a few paper napkins and tries to help.
Eventually the mess is cleared up, and all the broken glass has been removed.
Anton’s self-confidence is also shattered.
“Can I get you another beer?” the waitress asks.
Carl speaks up first. “I’d like a glass of Chianti, please.”
“No problem.”
“I’ll have the same,” Anton says quickly, wiping the last drops of beer from the table.
They sit down and look at each other. Neither of them says anything for a few seconds.
“So,” Carl begins. “That was an interesting welcome.”
Anton laughs and blushes. He feels stupid; he would almost like to stand up and leave.
What a fool he was to believe they could start over.
The waitress arrives with their wine, and without looking at Carl, Anton picks up his glass and takes several sips before realizing he should have been polite and toasted his companion first.
He has messed up again.
The awkward silence seems to go on and on.
“By the way, did you hear about Bengt Hedin?” Carl asks, as if he is attempting to rescue the situation. “He was the one you came to see at the council offices last week, wasn’t he?”
Anton nods. “What about him?”
“He just issued a press release—it came through on my phone on the way here.”
“Oh?”
“Apparently Charlotte Wretlind had made a generous donation to the community via the council.” Carl leans back on his chair.
“The plan is to build up a youth facility in Storlien so that the village can grow by encouraging families with children to move there. Charlotte transferred a large sum to Hedin just before she died, so now he’s going to set up a foundation in her name. To honor her memory.”
Anton simply shakes his head. If Hedin imagines he can avoid being charged with bribery and corruption by using the money in this way, he is wrong.
Although right now work is the last thing he wants to think about. He reaches for his glass and realizes it is empty.
Carl changes the subject. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something. When you called.”
Anton isn’t ready. He looks around in a panic, desperate to order more wine and avoid meeting Carl’s searching gaze. He starts to fumble with the menu in front of him.
Carl simply waits. Smiles. “I was so pleased to hear from you. I thought I saw you the other day when I was in the grocery store.”
Anton’s cheeks are burning. He had hoped that Carl hadn’t noticed him lurking behind the shelves.
“You mean when you were shopping with your boyfriend?” he mumbles. He knows he has no right to an opinion on Carl’s love life, yet the question sounds somehow reproachful.
Carl bursts out laughing. “You mean Fredde? He’s my younger brother.”
“Your brother?”
Anton stares at him in confusion. Thank God the waitress has brought another glass of wine, and he drinks more than half in a single gulp.
Actually they did look very much alike, come to think of it.
Carl brushes aside his uncertainty. “I’ve thought about you a lot.
I hoped you’d get in touch eventually. When you’d finished thinking things over.
It was crystal clear that you needed to work out who you are and who you want to be.
” He places his hand on Anton’s. His touch makes Anton’s entire body tingle. “And if you want to be with me.”
Anton is drowning in Carl’s warm gaze. He wants that hand to remain there forever.
What people will think of his sexual orientation has never seemed so unimportant.
Without hesitation he leans across the table and kisses Carl.
For a long time.