‘I don’t know. Aunt Elisabet said that nobody’s allowed to go inside Tabor . . .’ He shuffles his feet uncomfortably. Milo is still skittering around his legs, eyes fixed on the backpack.

‘What if I bring us both a cup out here?’

Mats thinks for a moment, then nods. Anna goes in and sets a tray with two Höganäs cups, milk, sugar, and a packet of biscuits that she finds in a cupboard. She pulls on a jacket before going back outside. The drizzle is still hanging in the air, but Mats doesn’t seem bothered. He takes a cup, thanks her politely and helps himself to milk and sugar, then stirs with such concentration that she thinks he must be counting. Five clockwise, then five anti-clockwise.

‘Your aunt was here the other day,’ she says as a way of starting off the conversation.

‘So I heard. Klein wasn’t happy about that.’ He takes a sip of his coffee.

‘No?’

Mats shakes his head. ‘Aunt Elisabet isn’t well. She shouldn’t be driving around.’

‘Is Klein in charge at Änglaberga?’

Mats pulls a face, but Anna’s not sure if it’s a reaction to the question or the coffee. He doesn’t answer, so she tries a different tack.

‘I met your sister, Marie, earlier. We saw each other in the park on Saturday as well.’

‘The homecoming party,’ he says, wiping a drop of coffee from his beard. ‘I expect my father gave a speech as usual. He likes to be the centre of attention.’

‘But you weren’t there?’

He shakes his head. ‘I’m happiest up here in the forest.’

Milo has sat down and is now giving Mats his full begging routine. Head tilted on one side, spontaneous dribbling, a sweet little whimper. Anna throws him a biscuit, but he gives her a dirty look as if that wasn’t what he wanted at all. Then he eats it anyway.

‘How come you’re living with your aunt?’

‘When my grandfather died, Aunt Elisabet had to take care of Änglaberga. When my parents got married, they were given Kotorp, but my father sold off almost all of the land to Glarea in the ’80s. Have you been down to the quarry?’

‘Yes.’

‘A lot of it is Kotorp’s land. It looks terrible.’

‘Like a lunar landscape,’ Anna says, and Mats nods in agreement. ‘So you and Marie grew up at Kotorp?’

‘Mm, but our mother was often ill, so we spent a lot of time at Änglaberga.’ He shakes his head, his expression sceptical. ‘When my father sold Kotorp to Marie and bought a house down in the village, he and Aunt Elisabet decided that I should move into Änglaberga. My collection was already there, after all.’

Mats takes a biscuit and nibbles at it without explaining what he means by the last sentence.

‘How long ago was that?’