Chapter 20
“Hello there, Christer, how are you?”
As usual, Emelie was sitting with the computer in front of her when the phone rang, and Christer’s name popped up on the screen. Christer told her that all the tables for the market had been repaired and that he had ordered a couple of new ones that were going arrive before the end of the week.
“So, my dear project leader, how are things on your end? Do you have everything under control?”
“Yes, all the tables are booked, and I even have a couple of names on the backup list in case we have any cancellations. But I think we have managed to get a great mix of different items.”
“Sounds good, do you want us to go over the list again?”
Emelie was about to say that it sounded like a great idea, and that she would send him the list, when she realised that he would then see Carina’s name on it.
It might be better to make him deal with the fact that she was there on the day of the market?
Otherwise, she would risk him making a fuss and forcing her to cancel on Carina, and she didn’t want to do that.
“We were very thorough last time, so I don’t think it will be necessary, but it would be great if we could give the tables different numbers, so we are sure to split up the salespeople in a good way. Do you want me to stop by, then we can look at it together?”
“Sounds good! The door is open, so just come on in.”
When Emelie got to the community centre and opened the heavy doors, she instantly caught sight of Christer in the big hall.
“Hello there”, she called, and he waved for her to come in.
Emelie stopped on the carpet inside the door and, while stomping the gravel off her feet, she imagined what it would look like here on the day of the market.
Lots of people, gravel and melting snow on the floor, a happy buzzing and the smell of Christmas trees, mulled wine and gingerbread cookies.
She smiled with anticipation. The sound of furniture being pulled across the floor and Christer’s voice brought her back to reality.
“Where did you go?”
She stepped into the big hall.
“I just got stuck in the hallway, daydreaming about the market. I think we can expect a lot of people. What do you think about creating the atmosphere of an outdoor market by leaving the doors in open so you can walk freely between the outside and in here? Then we don’t have to worry about taking care of people’s coats either. ”
“Brilliant,” Christer said. “Can you grab this one for me?”
They moved the tables around and gave them different numbers, and Emelie put the numbers into her Excel-file in order to split up the salesmen in a good way, both inside in the hall and outside in the yard. Christer gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder.
“I’m so impressed with how you are handling this, Emelie.
Last time around, the salespeople were standing wherever they wanted to, but this way will make it much more interesting for the visitors since there will always be something new to look at.
Come on, let’s sit down, I have something I want to discuss with you. ”
Christer sounded serious, and he pointed her to one of the tables. Emelie sat down, put her laptop away and looked at him, feeling concerned.
“But what’s the matter? You sound so serious, did anything happen?”
Christer smiled towards her.
“No, nothing except for the fact that I have had time to think during these past weeks in bed. I’m a bit over sixty and the accident has made me understand that I’m not invincible. I was thinking about retiring full-time next year and…”
He looked down on his hands and suddenly looked uncomfortable.
“Taking care of the community centre isn’t a full-time commitment and it doesn’t pay very well, but I still want to ask if you could be interested in taking over after me?
We’ll have to check in with the municipality too, but there shouldn’t be any problems, they’ve wanted us to use the house more than we do for a while now, and you have shown that you are the right person for the job. ”
Emelie looked around the big hall. There were dark wooden beams on the ceiling made of fir, and the wood continued on half the walls with a flower-patterned wallpaper above.
In her mind, she immediately started making plans for how to renovate and restore the old house back to its former glory.
And what the house could be used for. Line dancing - that was a given - the pensioner’s association, kindergarten for the few families with small kids living here, after school activities for teenagers, a gallery, cinema and perhaps a small theatre.
“Yes, what do you say? You absolutely don’t have to make up your mind right now, I just wanted to ask, so you have time to give it some thought.”
Emelie put her hand over Christer’s, beaming at him.
“I can only say thank you for showing such trust in me! This place is your gem, and you want me to take care over it. I feel honoured, but I can’t give you an answer right now. I don’t know yet how long me and the girls will be staying here, but can we discuss it again after the market?”
He nodded.
“I’ve been thinking about making an exhibition about the history of the island for a long time. I would love to do that if I had more time on my hands,” Christer said.
“It sounds like a great idea, I heard something about a prisoner from Carlsten fortress being the first inhabitant of the island?”
Christer looked pleased and started to tell her the story.
“Yes, his name was John. He lived in Marstrand and stole food because he was hungry, and then they put him with the real criminals on Carlsten fortress. He soon got released and made it to Sardinon along with his wife, brother and sister-in-law, and they wanted to start a new life,” he said.
“And then they named the island Lilla Carlsten?”
“Yes, to set a warning example for himself, a sort of a reminder to never do anything illegal again, but that isn’t the whole story…”
Emelie looked at her watch and quickly got up.
“You’ll have to tell me the rest some other time, I’m afraid I need to get back,” she told Christer.
On the way back home, the ideas were spinning in Emelie’s head.
When she had got some way down the road, she turned around, looking at the community centre in the distance and smiling.
Could that place become hers to take care of and develop?
It would be a dream come true, she was only keeping her fingers crossed that the municipality would be prepared to put some money into renovations and PR.
She was deep into her own thoughts and hardly noticed that she was already by the shop when Linn called for her.
“Mum!”
She turned around and smiled at her daughter who was just leaving the store.
“You look happy, did anything good happen?”
Emelie hadn’t planned on saying anything, but now she couldn’t help but share Christer’s suggestion and her own daydreams with Linn.
“But mum, that’s amazing! Then we can stay here and maybe I can start a café at the community centre? Or perhaps you aren’t allowed to give roles to your own kids, being a chairman and everything?”
She gave Emilie a nudge in the side.
“If you don’t give roles to your family and friends in a small place like this, there are no people left to give roles to,” Emilie laughed. But hey, let’s keep this to ourselves for a while, Christer and I decided to discuss it again after the market.”
“Absolutely! I have some good news of my own! You know the recipe that Astrid has for Swedish crispbread with ground sugar kelp?”
“Yes, right. It was something about the bread becoming extra fluffy and rising better with the help of the seaweed?”
“Exactly, nice one mum, you’re learning! Anyways, Oskar’s dad’s delivery guy was able to get a hold of sugar kelp too, so Oskar and I are going there this weekend to pick up the seaweed and everything else. The delivery guy has a flat in town, and he is letting us stay there.”
She smiled contently and Emelie thought about whether it would be a good time to talk to Linn about the danger of flirting with several men simultaneously in a small place like this. But before she had a chance to say anything, Linn stopped on the stairs to their house and looked at her.
“Do you know what day it is today?”
Emilie thought about it. Had she forgotten anything? It wasn’t anyone’s birthday, could it be some anniversary? There were official days for everything these days, from international women’s day to cinnamon rolls.
“The International Sardine Day?”
“Ha-ha, nope, but it’s the grand mulled wine tasting day! For you and me, that is, just so we can see if it’s coming along okay.”
They sat down at the kitchen table and Linn removed the plastic from the bucket, stirring the liquid. She frowned when she smelled it, but then poured one cup for herself and one for her mother. Linn looked ceremoniously at Emilie.
“One, two, three.”
Emelie put the cup to her lips, taking a sip. The drink was cold, and mulled wine is supposed to be served warm… maybe that’s why it didn’t taste quite as it was supposed to.
“No, bloody hell, that’s disgusting!”
Linn flew up, spitting the mulled wine out in the kitchen sink. She looked desperate.
“What are we going to do? We can’t possibly sell this. It’s way too sweet and the consistency is like syrup. Yuck!”
Emelie shook her head, while she was trying to figure out what had gone wrong.
“It’s thick and too sweet. I’m no professional, but I don’t think the fermentation process has started. You’ll have to add something in order to create alcohol, and that will make it less sweet, too.”
She put her nose into her cup and gave it a spin before carefully taking another sip.
“You look like a snobbish sommelier,” Linn laughed.
“You laugh, these are serious matters… but the flavour and the smell aren’t all bad. I think all we need is some more alcohol. Let’s look it up and then we’ll move the great tasting day until the end of November. And if we can’t serve it at the market, I guess that’s okay too?”
“Yes, you’re right. We have some alcohol-free mulled wine in the store, I’m sure Oskar’s dad can get us some extra bottles of that. But I’ll google how to get the fermentation started.”
Emelie looked at her watch.
“How about I’ll fix us a couple of sandwiches? Then we can take care of the boxes that are in the cellar and see what we can sell and what we should take straight to the dump?”
An hour later, they had carried up all the boxes from the cellar and started carrying out everything that was broken or hideous onto the porch before taking it to the dump.
“Hello, hello! What are you girls up to, moving in or out are you?”
“Hello Birgitta. We are just doing a little organising to see what we can sell at the market.”
“Oh, have you found…”
Birgitta got quiet and looked at Emelie with anticipation. Emelie shook her head and pointed at a box.
“But there are some papers and other things inside that, perhaps you can have a look inside it.”
Birgitta nodded and started to go through all the papers and little nick-knacks in the box with determination.
Emelie sighed and started on box number five.
She was more than fed up with all the Christmas stuff.
In this particular box, there were vases in all shapes and sizes, and she picked up a large, heavy red and green glass vase, holding it up to the window.
As the light shone through the glass, she could see the outlines of a parade of dancing little elves, pigs, gingerbread men and angels. She gasped.
“Look at this one, it’s incredibly pretty.”
Birgitta and Linn agreed.
“Astrid took good care of that one, I remember her saying it was quite valuable,” Birgitta told them.
“Is there some sort of stamp on the bottom?” Linn asked.
Emelie found the name of the manufacturer, and something that could be the signature of the glassmaker.
Linn walked over to her computer to see if she could find some information about the vase.
After a couple of minutes of googling, she put her hand over her mouth and whispered to Emelie so that Birgitta wouldn’t hear them.
“Mum, take the vase and come over here.”
Emelie walked over to her, looking at the computer screen where she saw an image of a vase that was identical to the one she was holding.
She leaned over and compared the stamps on the bottom of the vase with the ones on the image.
Yes, it was the same. Linn pointed at the comment from the antique dealer under the vase.
There were only five left of them in the world and it was designed by a famous glassmaker that died fifty years ago.
Approximate value: 80 000 – 100 0 000 SEK.
Emelie gasped, clutching the vase in her arms. Birgitta looked up.
“Did you find it?”
Linn and Emelie looked at each other. It was typical that nosy Birgitta would be here right now. They didn’t want the whole island gossiping about the vase. They heard a beeping sound and Birgitta’s hand went down into the pocket on her yellow cardigan. She sighed.
“I didn’t find anything in this box either and now I have to go,” she said, shoulders drooping.
Emelie smiled with relief.
“It’s okay, Birgitta, I’ll keep on looking and I’ll contact you as soon as we have found your papers.”
When the door had closed behind her and Birgitta had vanished down the stairs, Emelie and Linn started screaming and jumping around the kitchen table.
“It’s absolutely insane, almost 100 000 quid!” Linn yelled.
“It’s incredible, I don’t understand what is going on, we’re basically drowning in money, it’s too good to be true,” Emelie said, shaking her head in disbelief.
A dark thought had entered her mind; she didn’t deserve this. Something unfortunate was soon going to happen. She turned towards Linn.
“We’ll keep this to ourselves and next time I go into town I’ll bring the vase in and get it valued. If it’s true and it’s that valuable, it will have to be our safety net. In case the stove brakes or the roof needs fixing or…”
“Or if I need to buy a house for myself and my family or need some start-up capital for my own café” Linn said enthusiastically.
Emilie looked seriously at her; it was too good to be true. Linn winked at her and got on her feet.
“I know what you are thinking. But mum, you have deserved some luck in your life. With some extra money, maybe you can get some new clothes and a haircut and then maybe things will start looking brighter in your love life too,” she said softly.
Emelie grimaced and gave her a playful slap on the leg.
“So, I guess you think this island is full of interesting prospects?”
“You’d think one would be enough,” Linn mumbled and dove headfirst into the next cardboard box.