Perhaps that was her doing he said. If you want me to I’ll tell you about her but I guess you’ll have heard enough about her for one day.

I’ve heard about an angel I said. There was malice in my voice. Lying dead in the grass with her hands clasped in prayer.

He didn’t comment and I understood his silence to mean he had nothing to add.

John I said lying in the sofabed like an indolent cat and following him with my eyes. Come here so I can touch your hair. He seemed not to have heard and carried on mixing colours on a palette. Then he left and closed the kitchen door behind him as if I were already asleep.

Many hours later I slept but was still conscious enough to sense him climbing gingerly into bed and placing my head on his arm to make room. Felt his lips against the back of my neck. And his hands that couldn’t leave me alone.

This will end badly I mumbled without knowing what I was saying. He said hush. Then his lips silenced my mouth. His penis found its way in under the vest. We lay belly against back and he didn’t slide out of me until his breathing had become that of someone sleeping.

I had fallen asleep early so I woke at dawn. I could watch him in peace now as he was lying with the burn on his face in my field of vision. There were spots of paint on his face and on his hands. He stirred a little when I got out of bed. 51

I tiptoed across the kitchen floor to the loo. Just as stealthily I made my way from the loo to the bestroom. It seemed to be somewhere very private but I couldn’t help myself. My curiosity was deeply rooted in my childhood need to be in control. I detested secrets and I detested surprises. Despite the lovely beginning our fairytale already held too many secrets and surprises.

He lived in an abandoned farm that had stood empty for as long as anyone could remember. He had been married to a woman who had died near the sawmill.

My responsibility to myself and perhaps also to bror tugged at me and made me enter the bestroom.

The floorboards creaked. The door squeaked as I gradually pushed it open until the gap was wide enough to get through. I listened into the kitchen. The clock was ticking.

The room was darkened. He had pulled the curtains across the windows presumably to keep daylight out but my eyes slowly became used to the gloom. I wanted to take my time examining the paintings stapled up close together on the crowded walls.