He worked as a labourer for a summer on our farm. My dad was ill with cancer and had to stay in the village hospital. My older brothers already had farms of their own and could only come along to help us when it was urgent. Edvardkippo lived in an attic room next to mine. He was one year older than me. We knew each other from primary school.

In daytime we worked at the ingatherin. And once we had done for the day and had finished what was needed doing in the byre we went off to fish in the tarn. We would sit together at the end of the jetty. It started innocently. Knees touched. Hands got in the way. He was a year older. I was small and thin. Rather like I am now. But edvardkippo had a fine body.

Göstagrönlund drifted off into memories of his young lover. His eyes filled with sweaty attic rooms and the light of the midnight sun. I glanced at the clock. The halfhour was long gone.

As usual he came to say goodbye on the veranda. I hugged him but instead of patting my head like a tender father he gripped my arms and looked at me intently.

Your grandfather was a good man he said. We kept meeting until his death. Besides he was an ace at chess. 252

In the car on the way back to the main village I thought about gösta and granddad and their lifelong love affair. It had started more than seventy years ago. A couple of years before my grandparents married. About my gran I knew little except that she was brought up in a churchy home up north in the upper kalix region. I imagined her arriving with her bridal chest and bright hopes of a real life. Her disappointment echoed into the present.

My last visit of the day was to göranbäckström’s mother.

There was no doorbell. There never were any doorbells. I knocked and entered.

Veronicabäckström’s silvery grey hair hung down her back. Her hair and her bent back made her look like a witch. But her light brown eyes were gentle.

Dearie me she said. So that’s you. It’s so nice to see you again.

I couldn’t recall that we had ever met. She probably mistook me for maria.

Oh dearie me she went on. And I who thought you were dead.

You’re thinking of maria. She’s still dead. I’m jana her sister.

What did you say she said cupping a hand behind her ear.

Her hearing aid was in its box left on the kitchen table. I helped her to put it in. We fiddled with it until the acoustic feedback had gone.

What was it you said maria veronicabäckström asked.

I told you I’m not maria. I’m her sister jana.