The easel was standing at the far end of the old feast room. I had to get closer to see what he was painting at the moment. The floor was chirkin’ wherever it felt like chirkin’. Like a burglar I stopped after each step and listened for sounds from the kitchen.

A sheet hung over the easel. He was painting something no one was allowed to see and my impatience to pull back the sheet made me careless. I took a few quick steps forward and didn’t notice in the sneaklight that something was in my way. A bucket with empty beer bottles tipped over and the bottles rattled noisily across the floorboards. Now I could hear him. The door banged against the wall.

What the fuck he said. Who the hell said you could. 52

I backed away towards the window. Held up my hands in front of me and felt for the first time how cold the room was. The primate ape towered over me. His black hair stuck out in all directions like a wild man’s and he was breathing rapidly. Even his smell was different. We squared up took each other’s measure. Ayla facing the neanderthal brute who might kill her any minute now.

For what did I know about him. In that moment I was nothing but a pathetic creature who had begun to believe that the closeness I had felt was something other than lust. He took a few steps forward and grabbed my arms. Shook me as if I were a naughty child and he an adult who wanted an answer.

My head flopped from side to side. All energy all will to defend myself vanished. His grip on my arms kept me upright. Then I peed myself. It just came and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

53

NINE

We used to sleep together bror and I. Or maybe it is better to put it this way. That we fell asleep in our own beds but woke up in the same bed.

Except for the night we did it the other way round.

It was a friday and fridays were always the same. A jolly father came home from work ready to make a weekend of it as he said. Put bottles away in the fridge. Cracked open a beer and was fed. Best nicely cooked motherfood aimed at keeping him in a good mood.

After a couple more beers he would call us. We ran to him tails wagging. Sat in his lap hoping that his fickle hand would hold some sweets. We were his circus dogs rewarded for doing stunts and feats. Bror did magic tricks and I danced. We were the friday entertainment spot and sometimes even mother joined the audience.

If she didn’t come along he might call for her. Siri damn it come here.

After sun comes the rain. After the beers comes the hard stuff.