Chapter 9 #2
“That went well” Andreas chuckled while jumping off the cargo platform. “Soon you’ll be a real islander and get your own utility moped.”
“Perhaps,” Emelie said.
She was just about to ask where to find Christer when the door opened and a skinny, balding man came flying out. He looked prepared to give them a proper scolding when he saw Andreas.
“Oh, it’s just you, I thought it was some bloody kids that were here driving recklessly with their mopeds. I hate mopeds!”
Andreas introduced Emilie to Christer who had already heard about the girl from V?xjo moving into Astrid’s house.
And all her children. The way he said it, it sounded like she was running an orphanage and she pointed out that there were actually just three of them.
He began to warm up when Andreas asked Christer if he wanted to show them around the community centre and tell them about the story of the place.
Christer happily agreed and invited them in.
In the grand hall, there was an old aerial photo of the island accompanied by a sign that said Lilla Carlsten.
“What, Lilla Carlsten?” Emelie asked.
“Yes, that was the name of the Island before it became Sardinon. It got its name from a prisoner who was released from Carlsten Fortress on Marstrand and who was the first to settle down here, but that’s a long story, we’ll have to save that for another day,” Christer said.
They wrapped up the tour with a glass of Christer’s homemade elderflower cordial in the lilac arbor in the back garden.
“So, Christer, as you already know, Emelie has inherited Astrid’s house. You have visited Astrid many times, so you know what it looks like over there,” Andreas said.
Christer nodded slowly, already becoming more reserved. As if he was suspecting what Andreas was getting to.
“Emelie has done an incredible job and collected all of Astrid’s decorations without damaging a single piece.”
Emelie tilted her head, held up two fingers in the air while making an apologetic face.
“Okay”, Andreas laughed, “two Santas have suffered some injuries, but everything else is safely packed away in the cellar. And today Birgitta stopped by and told her about the Christmas market that we used to have back in the day, and that’s why we came here; to talk to you about reviving it.”
Christer quickly got on his feet, knocking his glass over. The cordial spilled all over the table
“Over my dead body! I hate Christmas markets!”
He rushed into the house and Andreas looked at Emilie.
“That went well” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“Right. I think it’s settled then,” she answered in an ironic tone.
Christer soon returned with a dishcloth and frenetically started wiping down the table while muttering.
“I hate Christmas markets, I HATE Christmas markets.”
Emilie leaned over and stopped his inefficient wiping by taking the cloth from him, squeezing out the excess-liquid and slowly started to wipe the table.
He dropped back into the lawn chair. His arms were hanging feebly along his sides while he was staring at the spill on the table.
Emelie kept wiping as she spoke to him in a soft voice.
“Christer, I have heard that you are the number one project leader on this island. You know everything there is to know about the community centre and everyone worth knowing. You have arranged Christmas markets that were popular and famous. I would love to honour Astrid’s memory with a Christmas market, and I know that I need your help in order to succeed. Will you not at least think about it?”
She squeezed the last of the cordial out of the washcloth and handed it to him. He stared at it for a long time.
“No, I don’t think that’s possible. For instance, who would do the baking now that Astrid isn’t with us anymore?”
“No, you are right, no one can bake quite like Astrid” Andreas said in a sad voice.
Emelie interrupted their nostalgic thoughts.
“My daughter is a trained baker, so that won’t be a problem.”
“But it won’t be like Astrid’s cookies”, Andreas said. “By the way…”
He quickly turned towards Emelie.
“Have you found her baking book?”
“No baking book, what is it? What does it look like?”
“It’s a book where she collected her special recipes. She took very well care of it. It must be somewhere in the house. It was red.”
Emelie rolled her eyes.
“Of course it was. I guess we just have to find it. But what do you say, Christer?”
Christer nodded, slowly.
“It used to be so nice, until…”
He took a deep breath and continued:
“But perhaps, for Astrid’s sake…”
He was quiet for a while. Emelie and Andreas peeked nervously at each other. Christer tilted his head and stared right into the air as if he was considering something. Then he looked back at Emilie, smiling.
“We’ll arrange Astrid’s Christmas market! It should be on December 14th! I will get the old committee together – and the two of you are committee members from now on.”
It felt a bit ceremonial, and they were all quiet as they got up, a bit overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events.
They cheered with the cordial left in their glasses, walked back through the community centre and, on the way out, Christer showed them the notice board where one could read about everything of importance that happened on the island.
Among ads about old lobster cages and rooms to let, Emelie noticed a small note.
“Oh, line dance, how fun! There’s a class on the pier on Wednesday at 6 p.m.
Emelie tore off a small reminder note and turned towards Andreas.
“Do you want to join me?”